The pain
The anguish
Every sound magnified
The whirring fan
The metallic cling and clang
Everything hurts

Every ray of light intensified
Burning holes into my mind
The bright
It's too bright
The head splitting pain
Is far too much to bear

A water bottle releasing air
Soothes the mouth
But pains the mind
The pill bottle fumbles
Through shaking hands
And rattles echoes through the skull

If sleep could only come
It's far too early to be awake
But minds like this are not so kind
To let rest fall upon the body
For even if the pain subdued
The dreams to follow would be twisted
Pain is the only thing to feel
Coursing through every fiber

Boy, how I hate migraines.

I just feel so alone in this big big world. Like there's me, surrounded by a puffy winter jacket 10 sizes too big. And I'm scrambling to envelop myself in it, but there's so much empty space. I'm being swallowed. By darkness and coldness and nothingness. And it's terrifying, yet there are so many exhilarating things in this life. But my mind is traveling too fast to absorb any of it or even pause briefly to observe the magnificence of what I have been given. I'm scared and I'm alone, and I'm scared THAT I'm alone. I say I love you far too often and much too quickly, but you never know which day will be your last. And that thought alone scares me, because I haven't done any of the things I want to do. I'm scared of life - not even the future - because it's such a beautiful thing that I have been blessed with but I find it so ******* painful. And it's exhausting.

You're making me feel like crap. I'm going through a weird patch in my depression where I just don't feel like myself and I'm sad all the time, so maybe this is just that part of me talking right now. I know that you're busy. Cool. Just say "yeah that would be fun". Instead, your responses make me feel ****** like I'm doing something wrong and I'm being insensitive to how busy you are. And actually right now I don't know why I'm typing this. It's not your responsibility to make sure you don't say something that upsets me. It's my responsibility. And I need to change that. And yes, I'm changing that for me because I don't really care what other people think of me. But it's kind of ironic that you told me that, seeing as you seem to care what others think of you a lot of the time. Or at least that's my experience. And wow I really sound like a *****. But I'd rather be angry than depressed and sad. But I'm not really angry or upset at all, I'm confused. Something between us has changed. I feel like I annoy you or something. And if that's the case, then just be honest. I'm so tired of trying so hard to be friends with you. It feels like I constantly have to put in so much effort to talk to you or anything. It's exhausting. I love you but it's not worth it for our friendship to be so one sided. And now it sounds like I'm breaking up with you haha. But it's crazy. I feel like you don't treat me the same way you used to and it's sad. I miss that. I miss our old friendship. I miss hanging out on the weekends doing homework. But I guess you don't...

This infected flesh
Covers every inch of this body.
Infected with
Pain
Sadness, yet
Emptiness - a lack of
Emotion.
"Oh that this too too solid flesh would melt"
In the words of hamlet;
Maybe then my
Demons would be set free.
Of all the things that haunt me,
Your ghost is the most prominent.
Of all the memories,
The ones of happiness
Are the most heavy.
My mind is full of pain
And anguish
And a lack of empathy,
And full of anger
And poisonous thoughts.
I long for an escape...

Time.
It's a fickle little thing.
To some
There's too much.
For most
There's never enough.
With the world laid out before us
We waste what we're given
On painting or baseball -
Any activity to pass the time
While the world keeps spinning.
We take for granted the time we have
And never truly realize it
Until we've turned to dust.

Life makes me want to run away
And never turn back
And leave everything behind;
The pain, the hurt, the negativity.
Life forces me to grin and bare it
while I suffer through it all
And inside I'm falling to pieces.

Life makes me want to take your hand in mine
And ride off into the sunset
Without worry or doubt in our minds.
Life is hard and we all know it,
But it's worse when you're sick
Like me.

I'd like to think that
You and I
Could build an empire
From the ground, up.
From the ground that
caught my tears
And held me up
When I felt like falling.
And from the ground
That held your weight
When you stood by and
watched
As I slowly fell apart.
I'd like to think that
We could build an empire
Just you and I,
That sits up high
So we could watch the sea
As it leaves in the morning
And comes back far too late.
I'd like to think that
We could build an empire
Just you and I
But I know it will only be just
me.
Because it's always just me.

You can hate me because I'm beautiful,
You can hate me because I'm smart,
And you can hate me because I'm me
But don't hate me because you aren't.

I don't feel supported,
Or loved by your words.

Friends should make each other feel good, that's what we're here for.

I never hear "you're beautiful"
Or "you're perfect the way you are"
When I need it most,
When I'm struggling with my sense of self.

I don't need a pity party,
And I'm not an attention seeker,
But every now and then a nudge
From you
Would mean the world
To me.

I'm not as strong as I like to think,
I'm very apt to break,
And I've become weaker
Without the love I need to grow.

I don't want to lose you,
That's the worst that I can fear,
I just want you to gently remind me
That you care.

I could take every pill in this bottle
And wash them down
With regrets and sorrow
But that would be selfish...
Right?
If only there was something to
Numb the pain
That didn't **** me or my liver.
I don't turn to drugs
Except for the prescribed ones of course
But they don't work anymore.
Nothing does
Except for days spent in bed
And sleepless nights not spent
Thinking of you or my problems.
I'm a broken person.
And that's all I can say tonight

Single
Exiled
Victimized
Empty
Nobody
Tired
Envious
Excluded
Noth­ing.

I feel like a bother to people;
I feel like a burden.
I feel like so many people's lives
Would benefit from me not being part of them.
I'm always sad.
No matter what drug they give me next.
I'm good at faking.
Laughter.
A smile.
Compassion.
I give so much to people,
Yet I get nothing in return.
I've heard that people are indebted to me.
Yes, very much so.
But I can't say that;
That's mean and insensitive.
And I'm not good at cruel.
I'm good at me;
Whatever that is.
I feel alone.
All the time.
Because I guess it's easier to text
"I'm sorry ):"
Then to call and ask "what's wrong?"
I feel unappreciated.
I give so much
And help so often.
Yet I'm the one always begging for a life vest
Because I'm drowning.
I feel sad.
Plain and simple - I AM DEPRESSED.
I am up and down every day.
But there are more frequent downs
Than ups.
I feel like I have no purpose.
That this life is a waste of time;
A never-ending ride.
But I want off.
I feel like a bother to people.
Maybe if I disappeared...

Okay. I need to rant. I send you an incredibly long message about how you're my best friend and what you mean to me and how much I love you, and all that you respond with is a picture - not even an actual text. Like honestly? Are you freaking kidding me?? And then you post "I need someone to watch movies with who won't judge me if I try to spoon" hi, best friend over here who likes watching movies with you and always wants to be right next to you but I'm worried that you'll think it's weird. So really? I'm pretty sure that you don't think of me as your best friend and that really hurts. But I guess I shouldn't care. You have friends and I don't, right? Oh my god it's so frustrating. I really am sick of feeling so ****** about myself because of you. I feel on top of the world because I send a super amazing and heartfelt message to my favorite person, and I get **** in return. So thank you for that, it's not incredibly disappointing or hurtful at all (that's pure unadulterated sarcasm). Maybe this is the problem with being best friends with a guy. I am "more sensitive" or whatever, but you've had friends that are girls before, why can't you treat me like them? And you never say I'm pretty or anything, that's hurtful. You'll talk about all these people that are babes, but you never compliment me. I'm really sad because of it. And I'm really angered too. I wish we were inseparable, but you don't care. And I'm so tired of trying with you...good bye (at least for tonight).

Poetry is beauty because of its ambiguity
It's not black or white
Or even gray
It's indigo skies
Golden rays of warm light.
It's bitter morning frost on the hood of your car,
Sweet squishy sand in St. Tropez.
It's the thud of a heartbeat,
The silence of a blink.
It's the emptiness of the mind
And the ingenuity that fills it.
Poetry is nothing...
But boy is it everything.

So I sit alone.
So no one talks to me.
"How does that make you feel?"
What?
How do I feel?
I'm tired, exhausted...
I'm done.
I feel like jumping off the bridge that
Washed away over 6 months ago.
I feel like disappearing
Forever.

Is that good enough for you?
Is that a satisfactory answer?
I don't have friends.
"A lot of people say that"
Oh really?
A lot of people are isolated
For most of the day
Because their only true friend
Is two hours away?

I have clinical depression.
I take pills for it.
There. I said it.
Are you happy now?
Happy to know what's wrong with the
Girl who sits alone and doesn't talk to
Anyone...?
I have clinical depression.
And there's nothing I can do about it
But wait and try and
Hope
For someone to say
"It's okay. I'm here..."

I shouldn't have to apologize
For simply being me
Yet the words
"I'm sorry"
Seem to spill from my mouth
As easily as a friendly
"Hello".

The embrace of the warm water was welcome on the iciness of my flesh. My skin, pale and uninteresting, reflected what I felt inside: cold, bitter, and lacking life. I can't recall the length of time I spent sitting in the porcelain tub, its overwhelming and vast whiteness enveloping me. All I could hear was the metallic ring of the shower head pumping water onto my pathetic, limp body and the rattling of too many thoughts inside of my head. The only other thing I could manage to do was rinse the conditioner from my not-quite-long yet not-quite-short blonde hair, scrub my face and climb into the familiarity of my bed, towels and all.

I want to be someone.
I want to be that cool kid.
Who sets trends.
Who isn't afraid to sing horribly.
And loudly.
And isn't afraid to dance in the middle of the street.
I want to be someone.
Who's happy with how they look.
At least for the most part.
Who isn't afraid to ask a guy out.
Especially when we have been just friends for too long.  
I want to be someone.
Who is up for anything.
Honestly.
Who isn't afraid to climb a mountain.
I want to be someone.  
Who is invincible.
But accepts defeat proudly.
In a way that is only mine.
And in a way that is inspiring to others.
I want to be an inspiration.
Too.
Someone that others look up to.
And think.
I want to be like her.
I want to be someone.
Who's carefree.
I want to be someone.
Who feels loved.
And doesn't try so hard to act a certain way.
I want to be known for me and only me.
I want to love.
I want to dance in the rain.
I want to let my hair down and not care.
About anyone else.
Or anything else.
I want to be someone.
Who gets an A.
And feels good about it.
Who can brag.
But not upset anyone.
Who people don't mock.
When they do better.
Or know more.
I want to do yoga.
And drink tea.
I want to be someone.
Who stays up late having conversations.
Deep ones.
About the universe.
And God.
And everything that comes to mind.
I want to feel religion.
I want to feel joy.
I want to feel pain.
Good pain.
From falling off a bike.
Or coughing on river water.
I want to stop taking pills.
I want to be someone.
Who is happy.
With me.
With life.
With everything.
Who laughs at fear.
Who doesn't feel darkness.
I want to be someone.

Oh how I wish
We could test the waters
Of this stormy sea
That is you and me
For it is oh so tempting
But I fear that if we
Sink into what this could be
One of us will
Drown.

She kissed your cheek and smiled widely,
the corners of her mouth almost touching her
impeccably tattooed eyebrows.
She was not what you had pictured
from the back and forth email conversations
on quotes and designs and sizes.

She asked you to take a seat as she went to
smoke a cigarette outside the shop with a coworker;
Anna was her name...with two jack russel terriers -
one of them is like a honey badger apparently.

It's funny how the mind remembers certain things...
the way the smoke on her tongue smelled as she leaned in
adding ink to her needle,
or the song she kept humming while you
bit your tongue and stared at the decorated ceiling.

But the pain of the needle depositing the
ink
into your skin was welcome...
It was nothing compared to the internal turmoil you were
experiencing the past seven days.
It almost felt good...
Not adrenaline good, but like good that you were capable of
feeling
something besides sadness and anger.

In the Barcelona airport two days earlier, you made your appointment.
One on your hip, one on your foot
100 pound deposit. No problem.
You needed something to occupy your
mind
from the pain it endured over your "holiday."

So much for a holiday...
Surprise! Your friend is a backstabbing *****
who "secretly" hates you and tried to
ditch you repeatedly.

The needle grazes your hipbone and you wince.
"You okay?" Tota coos in her Italian accent.
You nod, but you know you're not really okay...
You never were...probably never will be OKAY.

Your mind wanders...wishing you were home
and not in London, three thousand miles away from
the only people who seem to care.

"Done!" Tota exclaims.
You examine her work, smiling.
The first time you have smiled in days.
"Get ready...this one is gona hurt!" she says, half excited.
You don't care...nothing can hurt more than your heart...
Too bad that can't be tattooed...

How does it feel?
To say,
With such dexterity,
That you are sad
Or alone
Or depressed?
But you know nothing of these things.
At least not the way I know them.
Sadness is my bible,
Alone is my prayer,
Depression is my God.
Does that make sense now?
You know so much of
Religion and the like,
Can you begin to comprehend
What I know as daily life?
Do tears not shake your earth
And resonate in your bones
Anymore?
Do muffled sobs become your
Nightly ritual?
Is smiling physically painful?
And silence is deafening,
Even to the quietest ear?
I am all things
Broken and
Used;
Abused.
I am pain and
Loneliness.
I don't know these things:
I am these things.
Good night and good bye
From the blonde girl with
Golden green eyes
And tear stained cheeks.

Flash a smile
Or fake a laugh
And move on forward
Because it will all be in the past;
Someday.
Someway.
Somehow.
Before it's too late
And your emotions get the best of you
And your head stops spinning
From all of the thoughts that they fill it with
And the pain you can't hide
Anymore.
Without the evidence on your sleeves
How is anyone supposed to believe
That you're a mess on the inside of your head
And out?

I want to know your 2am heartaches.
I want to hear your demons when they keep your mind awake.
I want to know your walk.
I want to help you fight your inner battles.
I want to see the skeletons hiding in your closet.
I want to feel your heart as it skips a beat or two.
I want to be the one you call when the tears won't stop.

And I want you to want to know me as much as I want to know you....

These patches of fog that hang overhead
Amongst the highest mountain peaks
Are the same ones that cloud my mind
And cling to every corner
Masking my emotions.

I don't want to annoy you with my troubles
But you're the only one I want to talk to
When there's no one there to hold my hand
Or hold me tight
And tell me "everything is going to be okay".

You told me you wouldn't be happy.
Those words are engraved in my memory...
They were unnecessary
And cold
And harsh.
And they changed me.

I don't see the world in the same way.
I'm deeper in this never-ending abyss...
Deeper than I've been before.

Words are powerful.
They carry a weight greater than anything else.
They are hard to forget.
And they can be harder to remember correctly.

Your words hurt.
Like a bullet straight to the heart.
I keep finding it harder to breathe
Every day...
And it's your fault.

I keep telling us both that it's not,
But there's no other explanation.
You created those words.
The words that tore me apart.
And no words can fix me.

I'm a broken mess.
Your words turned me into this.
I am cold, and alone, and empty.

I still love you,
But I blame you for everything.
And that's what continues to hurt the most.

Not so much the words,
But the weight they carry...
And how the person who expressed them,
Was the only one I could trust.