You keep breaking my heart into an infinite amount of pieces, but I keep picking up the pieces and placing them back in your hands.

I hate nights like this. When you want drink so you can drown your sorrows. Make life disappear. Make it all go away. Yet, it won’t last. Joy never does, but that wouldn’t even be joy. It would just be numb. No feeling. No perception of pain. No perception of right or wrong. Just numb.


All of the drinking, cutting and the running away is temporary. It eases the pain for a while but what happened when you wake up. When you can’t get ahold of a drink and the cuts get deeper with every pacing razor. You can only run for so long before your legs just give out. So, then where do you turn?


People tell me to find someone to talk to but people are human. Intentional or not I end up hurt. They are backstabbing, lying, cheating humans who cannot keep their own self preservation and if these people where to ask “what was wrong” I could not answer. I have no answer because I don’t know. I have drowned out my feelings to where I have become so numb I cannot remember why I felt the need to do this to myself to begin with. 
Yet, it is no longer medication to make the pain lesson, it has become an addiction. I cannot stop myself anymore. I am a monster and I am uncontrollable.

I am alone not because I choose to be but because I don’t want to be hurt again. I am alone. I am broken. I am a monster. I don’t even remember what joy feels like.

So I medicate.

If you ask me if I'm okay, I'll tell you that I'm perfectly fine.
I stand in a sea filled with people, how could I not be fine?
I'm fine. Its a word that crumbles into its very existence.
It's a word that means something it was never intended to be.

If you ask me if I'm okay, I'll tell you I'm fine.
Yet - I wonder what would happen if I told you the truth.
I stand in a sea filled with people, but the one who doesn't like me rips me to shreds.
I'm fine. Its a word that means I'm crumbling into pieces.

I'll admit,  I was scared to trust again.
To love whom had human nature to guide there selfish ambitions.
But you looked at me and realized I was not who I hid behind - I am so much more.

I search frantically for the eyes of which I loved.

I swing my arm uncontrollably reaching for the grasp that is no longer there.

Long for the bed that we used to sleep in.

My heart aches for the breath that used to tickle my neck.

I loved you and only you, but you walked away from me.

Conforming to the wicked ways that we have been told to shape into.

Told to mold ourselves to who they want us to be, then insisting our dreams are to big.

Don't be that person who listens to society's every beckon call.

You are not defined by like on a picture or a comment on a status, or the words whispered behind your back.

You are defined only as you define yourself and if your dreams seem possible than they aren't big enough.

To whom it may concern,
He is prodigious and amicable. He is without fault, in a sense that his faults are the very thing that makes him flawless.
He is compassionate and sympathetic. When words flow from his lips, it makes you weak at the knees and it makes you forget about your anxiousness.

He makes my heart beat to a pulp and race a million miles pure second. It's odd though, his track record isn't the best.
He doesn't seem to stay with any one person. He is afraid of losing the people he loves, I guess. (We have that in common)

So, no, he doesn't stick around, and, no, he won't be staying with me.
Yet, he deserves a chance at a little piece of heaven.
I pray to God one day he'll find that person that makes him happy because sometimes you meet someone and they do this thing called falling in love. That's what he and I did, but I know we weren't meant to be.

We were just two sparrows who met in the middle of flying in opposite directions, but - to whoever this may concern - you found him next, and I loved him once, odds are you will too. He was my first, and my only first true love, so take care of him, because when he falls in love, somewhere deep in his heart even when you're gone, he will always love you too.

And when you find out that he won't stay, and you ask me if he is worth it my answer will always be - you could live a hundred years, but only have one here and now. If even just for a moment you really do love him you'll stay until he leaves because it isn't very often in a life time that something or someone comes around and it is worth getting your heart broken for.

I promise you, I will always have a place in his heart and he will always be in mine, but you will hold a new place in a whole new part of him that I had yet to unlock. Thank you for loving him and wish you all the best. Maybe you'll be the one that sticks, but if it doesn't come find me - I know what it is like to watch him walk away.


With sorrow and love,
His former beloved

It isn't that I don't love them, because often I do.
It isn't that I don't care, because I do that too.

I guess its just that I don't think someone can love someone like me.
I build my garden walls so high that they are impossible to break down.
I'm moody, depressed, and a hot mess.

I'm a blazing fire that will never be put out, and people always get burned playing with fire.
I am an emotional wreck of shattered pieces, and it is easy to get cut on the glass.

Yet, when those class pieces hurt others, it is never because I don't love them, its because I'm a girl that can't handle being hurt again.
I push them away so I can't break anymore.

I'm tired of being like this.
It's just kind of sad that they don't try to fight when I push them away.

I will not stop swimming in a sea because I'm afraid of sharks.

I will not stop dancing because I'm afraid of tripping.

I am not going to stop smiling for fear that you won't smile back.

For that same reason, yes the very same - I won't be quiet for fear of not being heard.

I won't stop being me for fear you may judge me.

We're all going to the same place - down in the ground.

Most of our lives will be summed up in a dash between two dates on a slab of stone.

I'm going to live, and I will be heard because I'm not afraid live - truly live.

Live life to its fullest, you only have one.

Don't let others talk you into silence.

Don't go in your grave before you get a chance to live.

In a secret tomb, my ashes lay.
          It's ashes plea in disparity.

Buried miles deep, in false deceit.
          Suffocating, alive, in agony.

Given freely, my light is gone.
           I've lost myself to a blackened            
           theif.

My heart won't rest.
My mind won't relax.
My words are stained blood.
Your heart I will break.

We write poems, and dance.
We sing and we act.
Sometimes we draw and paint,
        but for what?

Someone once told me,
Write and dance to loose yourself.
That's what I then thought I had to do.
         I was wrong and that was then

I used to think the purpose of art was to loose myself,
but I quickly learned it was to,
         *find myself where I lost myself.

Hey, fat child, look at yourself.
You can't possibly be happy with the way you look.
Let me help you, child.
Just loose one pound, its all you need.

Hey, fat child, look at yourself.
You can't be happy with that fat!
One or two more pounds can't hurt.
Look, now you've lost three.

Hey, look, your still fat.
Loose a little more weight.
Just a few more pounds.
Soon no one will hate.

Look at how much you've lost,
you poor, fat, child.
Are those ribs?
Just a few more and you'll be perfect.

There goes four,
then five,
six, ten, soon twenty five more.
Look at your ribs.

Skinny, dumb, ugly, child.
You've ended up in the hospital!
Don't you know your supposed to eat.
You were so dumb to listen to me.

I'm trying so hard.

I'm pulling for my words.

I'm stammering.
           I'm stuttering.

It is a sudden rush of worries.

My mind is swimming in thoughts I can't sort.

I'm getting clammy,
            People are staring.

Everyone is going to see the real me.

My heart is quickening.

I'm drowning,
             but everyone else is breathing.

Someone, help me.

There is this wound,
                  its on my left arm.
It kind of resembles the one on my hip,
                  but this one was longer and more jagged.
It'll heal like the one on my hip,
                   but it's cousin will appear very near.
It oozed blood at first,
                   but it stopped bleeding after a few minutes.
Oh, look,
                    now there is another right next to it.
And another, and another,
                    and another, and another.
Its like medication,
                    for the pain that hurts the most.
The pain of my heart is to great,
                     the knife keeps my wounds coming and the pain at bay.

I suppose this wall is to blame.
No windows. No doors. Just brick.
No way to claw out of it,
But the effort is killing me.

I suppose the construction worker is to blame.
No ladder. No rope. Just height.
No way to climb over,
But I try in desperation.

No tunnel.
No passage.
Nothing.

I suppose I'm to blame.
I did built it so long ago.
I forgot how to get out.
This is my mind after all.

Broken.
It is such a strange word.
Broken.
It is such a strange definition.
Broken.
Can't what is broken be fixed?

If that which is broken is fixed, is it still broken?
Perhaps it is just brokenly new.
A broken heart can lead to joy.
So if a heart is sad, is it truly broken?

Broken.
Such a strange thing.
Broken.
What a strange concept.
Broken.
What a strange sound.

Why do humans call themselves broken?
Perhaps being broken, is nothing more then an allusion.
Why do we cry in despair when we seem to have broken?
Being broken only allows light to shine through the cracks.

Broken.
What a strange allusion.
Broken.
What a strange existence.
Broken.
What a strange state.

So, if broken can be fixed...
If Broken leads to joy...
If broken is an allusion..
And if light shines through the cracks of things that are broken...
Then it means two things...

Broken is a temporary state for humans.
Broken never existed to begin with.

A stolen child glares at a clock.

The child yells, "when will life's pure sting stop!"

Yet, the clock just screams, "tick tock."

A kid, who's life is a blended mess, stares at white walls.

The kid screams, "when will this demon come to a stop."

But the wall doesn't scream, it's sweet silence never cease yelling.

A teen cries from his depths as he trips on his chains-

"When will this burdon leave, my body is screaming from pain."

His cry from the depths, and his screams in the night burry the joy that will not reside.

I pray for the day when the burdon flees from his mists. I pray for the hour that teen is remist.

I have a secret that burns my flesh.

I have a secret that takes my breath.

A secret so impure.

A secret so secure.

It is buried in my soul.

It digs a never ending hole.

When it speaks, it tells story.

When it speaks, it tells of death's sure glory.

When I cry, I feel it's pain.

When I cry, I hide in shame.

I have a secret, plain as day.

I have a secret, till the grave.

The place at which my roses laugh.
The place of which my garden's craft.
The  place in which I beg to seek.
The place through which heaven I see.

It is the place where my heart resides.
Where bombs were ticking at my side.
When it blew, it took my pride.
Yet, it still is where my heart resides.

I long to hear my rose's voice.
I long to walk in my garden's joys.
I long to speak with my colorless friend.
I long to feel passion again.

Alas, I miss my home.
Where my friends, they are my rose.
A clump of roses, in a bed of thorns.
Yet, still they are where my garden was born.

Demons echo through the night.
She seems to cave without a fight.
The pain is to great to keep on running.
You may never again see her dancing.

Hell's gates greet his pain.
No one cares to tame life's mane.
His life seems be burning in hell.
All because of the secrets he can't tell.

Look at the girl who sits all alone.
Dying inside because of her mother's cruel tone.
Her life has been taken by man's cruel thief.
Nothing can bring her true piece.

He takes the gun to school one day.
Everyone keeps walking away.
He planed the shooting, and took the lives.
He never again plans to look at the skies.

To all those who feel this, know I do too.
It just isn't fair what life has done to you.
I know what people have taken away.
Just remember,
it is okay to not be okay.
It just isn't okay to stay that way.

Can't you hear what is screaming out in pain?
Can't you see the hearts that are screeching out with shame?
Can you not feel the silence ripping through the cracks?
Why won't you see the hurt that cannot turn it's back?

The voice has been taken.
The choice isn't being given.
The scars are self-inflicted, and the parents don't see there hidden.
Molestation has come creeping, and the Devil keeps on prancing.
Yet, all along the cries still rage, while silence echoes through the age.

I'm begging you to see this.
I'm asking you to care, because I know something is coming.
You just can't see it there.

I see a future generation, rising through the dust.
I see chains falling, and bowing before the King.
I see a future for those who cry out for help.
I see a healer coming, he is riding on a cloud.

This is the sound of our revolution!
Listen to the sound of the prophet's cry!
This is the sound of reformation!
I can hear the warrior bride!

We are the royalty in this land.
We have a divine destiny!
We are going to shake our nation,
and we are going to change our world!

So, find your voice!
Proclaim His name.
My generation will not be gripped with shame.

I'm begging you to break my chains.
I'm asking you to carry my pain.
I'm sitting at your mercy seat.
I'm crying at your holy feet.
I cannot dance, and I cannot sing.
I know you have a plan for me.
I have heard that you have paid my fee.
I am trying to set my sight on thee.
I'm begging for eternal grace.
I need your help to run this race.

Not a word has been spoken since that night.
The night where words ran wild, and no one saw the light.


                                         My heart is breaking from the people who leave.
                                             My heart was stolen by night's terrible thieve.


                          The secrets and lies that people deny.
                          The heart and pain that is dying in time.


The blood that is streaking across the skin.
The razor can't stop digging in.
                    
                                           ­             Words of hate leave ink on your bones.
                                                        Wa­nting no more to pick up the stones.


                   I wait for death to take me home.

I knew you would leave.
I knew it wouldn't be long.
I just didn't imagine life without you.
Without you to sing your song.

You were there for me when I was hurting.
When pain was ripping me apart.
I don't know how I'll survive without you.
Without you to sing along.

I know why you are leaving.
I just can't bare to see you go.
My anger dwells within me.
I know it shouldn't though.

I know you aren't really moving.
You aren't leaving me alone.
Your just leaving me excuseless for me to see you.
I know its not on purpose.

I know facebook works wonders,
and our cell phones always can be used.
Its just not the same.
I hate watching you go.

I would ask you to stay.
I'd ask you not to go.
I know my pain is great,
but not as much as it would be if I asked you to stay,
knowing your heart is telling you go.

So, go ahead follow your path.
Just don't forget me and how I looked up to you so.
The tears I shed, you will never see.
I don't want to see how much I dread you leaving me.

Depression is a war that rages.
You either win, or you die trying.
You can't escape because it binds your soul.
The pain it causes is like a whip against your back.
The pain isn't as much physical as it is mental.
The razor is your weapon against the infection.
It is a weapon, but on your own skin.
You can't snap your fingers and make it disappear.
You can't run.
It follows.
You take medications, but where does it lead?
Some people think you belong in a mental hospital.
Others.. they just think you want attention.
Most don't even look at your past to see what got you to this point.
It leaves you friendless.
It makes you shutdown.
It leaves your smiles fake.
Even if the war doesn't **** you, it still makes you feel like you died.
Even if it doesn't **** you, you are never the same again.
It brings you the point of no return.

I'm tired of running.
I'm sick of trying.
I want to stop crying.
I don't know why I keep lying.
I can't keep living.
I know I am dying.
My time is ticking.
My God I'm denying.

I smell the rose at beauty's end.
I see the darkness of a friend.
I see princess pure and true.
I see a blackened heart pulling through.
I see a heart with love long lost.
I see the queen becoming distraut.
I see a fairy tale's endless night.
I see a child, pure in sight.
I see an adventure burning in the dust.
I see the prince beginning to rust.

I found an apple that brings eternal sleep.
I found a spindle that puts my heart at ease.
I found my petals lying on the ground.
My clock strikes midnight,
my time is running out.

I am just fine... not.
I am the daughter who is fighting her depression.
I am the friend who is trying to show compassion.
I am the stranger who is sitting there with a horrendous expression.
I am the victim that raves with passion.

I am the child who was molested.
I am the person who can't confess it.
I am the human that craves death.
I am sitting on the devils bed.

So, yeah, you could say I am doing alright,
but in reality I'm not.
I am just a child, scared and true.

I long for your affection.
I long for your praise.
I long for the love you gave me, on that sorrowful day.

I miss you like I miss the dark.
I loved you like I loved the scars.
I miss the way you kissed my cheek.
I loved the times you gave to me.

I don't regret my time with you.
I do regret that you didn't follow through.
I don't regret the love we shared.
I do regret the way I cared.

I hate myself for running back.
I love myself for giving you the chance.
I hate myself, for pain you caused.
I love myself, for joy the joy you brought.

I miss you like I miss the dark.
I love you like I loved the scars.

A psychopath, that I am.
Some say I belong in a mental institution.
I can plan the perfect ******.
I can be the perfect killer.
I can bring gloom to day.
I can take the joy away.
I can sing depression's song.
I can make your pain last long.

I've never seen a light in day.
I always just run away.
I'm scared of where my future lies.
I'm scared of where my past resides.

Did I mention I can plan the perfect ******?
I have a friend, she'll hide the body.
Then we'll head to a party.
We probably will never try our plans out -
but be sure we can bring you living hell.

The tears they come, flowing down my cheek.
My friends have left, their voice I cease to seek.
I cannot dance, classes I must cease.
Ends draw near, the end I fear to see.

The show it proceeds, but in fear I proceed -
scared of what the end will bring for me.
Will it bring more tears, more loss of friends to haunt my sleep?
Curtain call must sing along.
Alone I tread, always in dread.
My hope, forever looses its light.

I know I cannot run for long.
I know truth will sing its song.
I cannot bear the weight of shame.
Scared that judgment will forever reign.