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On average, 1 person commits suicide every 16.2 minutes.

How many more people have to **** them selves before society realizes some thing is wrong?

How many more kids, trapped between highschool walls, decide the only way out is to go up?

How many more news stories?

How much death does it take to prove a point?

How many more people need to see their own blood spill, watching their own life force deplete as they bleed themselves dry?

How many more Amanda Todds and Kurt Combains will it take?

How many pills must poison blood streams, slowly killing it’s victims from the inside out?

How many ropes must hang from ceiling fans?

How many more people need to lose their best friend?

How many more mothers lose their son?

How many fathers must lose their little girl?

How Many, how many does it take for society to realize there is something not right here?
So I wrote this, but I plan on extending it.
I believe that the things we think about at 4 am define who we are and what we truly care about. For example, when I was awake at times in the night when it's considered to be extremely early morning I thought of how lucky I am that my feet haven't worn down like my sneakers. That my body can still carry me even though my mind and soul are weakened. I thought of how beautiful you look when you're sweating even though that might be weird in some cases.
   I'd think about how I want to slash highways into my forearms that would give a pathway for a better life. One where I'm not tormented by the fact that so many more of my friends are capable of having normal every day lives when I, am not. A life where calling a business or family member didn't mean a panic attack. The gushing of air repeatedly into and out of my lungs fills me with panic and hopelessness.
   I'd think about how I want to spend every day with my new family but I can't. I want to tell them I love them but I can't because showing emotions makes me weaker. It shows that I can barely stand on my own two feet, that the second my family leaves I'll be torn down. Piece by piece the bricks fall out, my head in shambles I become nothing again.
   I think how badly I'd love to kiss you. But I can't. I think our minds show what we care about. I care about you, my family. But wouldn't you be so much better off without me?
Dear Dad,
I know that you're somewhere else,
hopefully somewhere beautiful,
somewhere where you aren't in pain anymore.
It all just happened so fast,
Christmas Eve I was out to dinner with you
later that night you were gone.
Trust me,
that was the worst present I've ever gotten.
It hit me
that it'll be 17 months without you in 10 days
and I still pick up my phone and try to call you
but then I remember you aren't there anymore
and I can't.
That's what kills me the most,
because the people that have their Dads to talk too
treat them like ****
because they don't know how it feels
when they can't talk to him at all anymore.
If I could go back in time
I wouldn't have treated you the way I did,
because I can't help but hate myself for not
hugging you back more and kissing you more
and telling you how much I actually care.
Ever since I lost you Dad
it's been really hard trying to let people in
I don't want too lose someone that means so much to me
it killed me inside
especially losing you because
now who's going to walk me down the isle?
or kiss my baby girl's head
and hold her like you once held me.
It's night like tonight
when I cry myself to sleep and ask myself
a million questions about why you had to leave me,
when I needed you the most
and how I'm going to have to get over the fact
that you aren't going to be there to watch me grow up anymore.
I know that you're my guardian angel and
that you look down over me
I just wish that I would've said I love you more
and got to say my actual final goodbye
a letter I wrote to my father who passed away December 24,2012. miss him more and more everyday
Like a body in water I float and I drown. Like worms to the earth I keep going down. Like a deer in my headlights I stop and I freeze, but just like that, you snap, and I'm back and I fall to my knees.
Falling like snow we melt on the ground. Crying and dying without a sound. I'll disappear and you'll never know. I'm a king and I'll be fine on my own.
I'm so sick of honesty
I just want to lie here and be me
Cause the only thing I want to be
Is the thing that makes me happy
And I know that I can't be that thing
But, hell I'll keep trying
This isn't my last scene
I've got another act to go
But you're saying cut and I listen
As I’m about to, you yell no
Like which one is it?
Am I doing what’s right or what isn’t?
What I want or what you’ve written?
Well too late, what’s done is done
But you’re yelling at me for things I’ve not done
I'm a dead-shot with my words
But yours shot me dead you see
Cause I'm not missing you
And you're not missing me
I’m often asked why I don’t like to wear shoes.

My usual reply is that when I am barefoot I feel more grounded.

Now when I say that people take it one of two ways; they either think it is a joke, or they think it has some really profound meaning.

Maybe I don’t like shoes because maybe I never learned my lesson when I would cut the bottoms of my feet on sharp rocks. Maybe I should have realized that shoes are a good idea when I burned my feet on hot pavement not once, but twice.

Maybe it’s because I like the feeling of cold mud in the spring and hot sand in the summer.

Or I just don’t like wearing any ******* shoes.

Maybe the it is way that stepping grass reminds me of home, and stepping in snow also reminds me of home because I grew up in Maine, where 2 ft of snow is just your average wednesday.

Or possibly it’s how I can tell which room of my house I am in by the way the floor feels.

Maybe it’s how when I climb tree’s barefoot I end up with scratches all over me, but being so high reminds me of how hard the climb is but how beautiful the view is once you get there.

Shoe may just be too mainstream for me...

Maybe I want to feel more connected to my ancestors who didn’t wear shoes.

It may be that wish to a tree, that I wish that my bare feet would become roots tying me to the one place where I belong.

It may be that I wish I was a dog because they don’t have to wear shoes.

I might not like feeling confined. Maybe it’s a symbol for how I wish to be free, when I don’t wear shoes it’s a call for help.

Maybe I am brave, putting my feet in danger. Or maybe I am just really frickin stupid, and I am starting to think it’s the latter. Especially when I end up breaking my toes, or cutting my feet, or burning them on the roads because I was too lazy or too dumb to put any shoes on.

Or maybe I am just cracking a joke about bare feet and the ground (and people over analyze the smallest things)...
you used to tell me that death was nothing to fear
but that's not true
and it's not actual death that I'm afraid of  though
it's what happens afterwards

where will I go?
what will happen to my spirit?
will there be a heaven waiting for me?
or am I destine to sit in eternal darkness?

I like to imagine that we all become stars
shining down on the earth
and guiding our loved ones through the forest
looking down on everyone and smiling because you know they admire you

I also think a lot about what will happen to me physically
I mean, I know that I will decompose
but what will happen after that?

I like to believe that flowers will sprout from my remains
covering the ground in beauty and joy
people will look at my garden and know I was loved

some might not be as lucky though
weeds might grow from them
they're poison will cover the ground and create landfills
they're toxins will spread into the hearts of everyone that sees their grave

it doesn't matter what happens once your dead though
what matters is what happens when your alive
and maybe that's what I'm most terrified of
that what I do while I'm living won't get me stars or flowers

maybe I'll leave scars and be destine to have a poisoned grave
the few who come to my funeral will spit to the ground
hoping that my soul will still be there to feel it
hoping that I live in eternal darkness

so the next time you tell me that death in nothing to fear
I will simply laugh
and reply with 4 words
"you're right, life is"
There’s a theory about alternate universes, or if you want we can call it the multiverse. It’s where for every single idea ever thought of, there’s an alternate universe where it’s actually happened. For example, when George Lucas thought up star wars, somehow in another time, place or galaxy far far away, a star breathed in light. It breathed it in and out and created a universe where eventually, like ours, it gave life to atoms. And these atoms created people or monkeys or god or something which eventually : Became the star wars universe. I’m not a scientist but I think that’s pretty sweet. It’s this theory that kind of punches hope into my chest because what other way will I be able to take hope without a fight except to punch it directly into my chest. I guess though in a way also though, ****** also thought up of killing off all the jews and probably becoming world leader but let’s hope that didn’t happen.

It’s a simple idea like that though, that I have a little more reason for living. I’ve seen dark days and darker times created inside my own little piece of mind like p-i-e-c-e and not peace like a peace sign. Cause my mind is a battle field filled with corpses and death and totally dead people all around and to be honest it gets me really bummin. So instead of filling my mind with the dead I fill it with scenarios where I’m spider-man. I swing my web high till I run out of buildings, I let my body sky dive down into the ***** pits of New York where I help clean up the trash and gag cause I really hate taking out the trash like literally it’s really gross. But I help nonetheless.

When I was little I’d have dreams that didn’t end up happening until like eight years later and I realized I could see into the future. All the things I’d see were insignificant though so it’s not like they really mattered but one thing I keep a look out for are spiders. I had a dream I was spider-man, I swung a web accidentally and if I hadn’t woken up panicked I would’ve hit pavement harder than the realization that maybe God didn’t exist when I was eight or that...dad wasn’t coming back. All of this is off track so what I’m trying to make my point about to close a poem with is this: There’s a theory that what you think up in one universe, it can happen in another. So what I hope for is maybe there’s some kid in another universe, just like me. He looks up at the sky or in his room or a ceiling light when he’s really high and thinks: Hey, maybe I have spider powers in another universe. Cause the day I become spider-man, maybe I won’t be such a loser anymore.
I want to be a superhero. I want to shoot heats beams from my eyes like I shoot...spit, from my uh, mouth. I want to save people in the burning building. Lift girders with a finger and hope with my words. I'd give food to the poor and teach respect to the rich.
   I want to show the kid on the ledge that the bully is the loser and not him. That he has a life to live and what an ******* says is just a bunch of ****. And no matter how many times he jumps I'll pull him back on the ledge, show him that the hero he looks up to was just like him. Show him miracles happen and if he's lucky he'll become the hero in his eyes. Show him scars are scars and they're just out battle wounds, that even his hero gets hurt sometimes.
   I want to be like Tony Stark. Have an ark reactor in my chest powering a suit of armor. Knowing that any second my heart will be torn apart. Be like the Hulk cause I have such anger inside that sometimes I want to turn green and break things.
   I want to have the power of Thor, and show others that despite their expectations that deep down I have something they won't ever have: Compassion.
   I want to be a superhero. Because despite my expectations I am a hero in someone else's eyes. In another world, place, dimension I am the hero I want to be. And I know that eventually I will be a hero. I may not have powers but I have enough hope that maybe one day: I will.  
   But this isn't the future. I am in the present. And right now I am not the hero. Maybe I'm the villain.
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