If this shall be the end, thinks it best to let you know I was crying and trying but it only feels like im dying maybe im flying, flying with the angels who once tried to take me. Maybe im free, this cant be heaven, because everyday im put through hell hoping there is a plan for me. A plan that the things that tear me down will no longer be a part of me. That i will no longer want to take my own life because i am scared of me, living isnt all what its meant to be, i cant tell you how many times i was close. I cant tell you how many times i tried because i just couldnt find a meaning to my life. Its like a battle and im never winning, Ive never wanted to leave so bad in my life.

For some people,
Reality is too much to bear.
For some people,
The weight of the air in their lungs
Is too heavy to hold
And for some
Just living is
too much.

Call it insanity if you want
Go ahead, cast that stone
if you want

I call it a hyper-awareness.
And maybe a mind with too
logical a view of how
Illogical
It all is and how
Tragically
Ironic life is and how
Impending
Our doom is.

I know a fair few of these.
They are mostly good, kind people
Who have too good an understanding of the words
"Infinite"
And
"Nothing"
And of the point where those two words meet.

So to my friends who want to end it
Because they see too much every day
Who can't breathe because they're
Drowning in rising water-
I hope you live long enough to find
A reason to.
Because I am confident
That like with all things,
If you persist in looking

You will succeed in finding.

Since you've been gone
My couch doesn't smell like you anymore
Maybe it hasn't for a long while
And maybe the smell was in my head

Since you've been gone
My phone went off
That's how it was before you

Since you've been gone
Roses grew back in my garden
Leaves fell off the trees
And maybe I'm still waiting

I waited and maybe I still am
But in the meantime there's nothing I can do
But mourn the broken pieces
Try to find them all,
Lost somewhere along the way
And assemble them back together.

I maybe will always be yours
Somewhere somehow
In this world or in another

But right now
I am mine
I am no one's
I'm as free as the wind
I've broken free from everything
And I could leave right now
empty handed with no regret
or tear in my eye
Maybe alcohol will get me through this
And maybe it will **** me
But does it matter?
Because we're all gonna die

Why do some feel the need to steal?
Does it make them happy
knowing that their work,
isn't their own?
How can you sleep at night,
when you've been taking
the hard work of others
and stating it as your own?

Who do you think you are?
Do you even know yourself?
I think not.

Why you may ask,
because you can't even post your own work.
So how could you know who you even are
if you have to steal others work
and claim it as your own.

I think that's sad.
So very sad.
You can always ask for help,
but you should never steal.

No one would look down on you
if you ask for help.
But if you steal,
then i'm sorry for the horrible backlash
that you will receive.

Actually,
i'm not sorry for that backlash.
For what you have done is wrong,
so very wrong.

You could have posted the poem,
and then state that it was someone else's.
Give credit where credit is due.

But you didn't.

And now i'm angry.
I'm so very angry.

I'm writing with a vengeance now
so you better watch out,
whoever you are
stealing poems.
You do not deserve the lovely comments on those poems,
because they are not yours.

So either take down those poems,
or say who originally wrote them.
Because they are not yours,
and they never will be.

It is so selfish to do such a thing.
So selfish to steal.
All you care about is what you want.
Not what the other person feels.

But **** am I furious,
so angry that it is so difficult
to write this.
So very difficult.

For you stole a poem
that one of my friends has written,
and that is unforgivable.

You mess with my friends,
then you're messing with me,
and I am not someone
that you want for an enemy.
So I suggest you stop now
before this entire community
stops you.
...
No one respects a thief.

Bury me in peaceful pasture
underneath a cobalt sky
far now from the battle raging
far now from my mother's cries.

Lay me down neath boughs of splendour
where the breezes speak of love
safe now from the wailing sirens
safe now from the drones above.

Lead me now to heavens garden
where my soul once more will play
games without the fear of dying
games without the fear of pain.

There I'll find my friend and brothers,
all the children gone before
too young to leave a world now mourning
too young to die in bitter war.