Thank you Twenty One Pilots for all you've done for the broken people.
You've cured some of the ones who have tried their suicidal session.
You've shown us that you know what it feels like to suffer.
You've told us that the hardest nights will get brighter when the sun comes up, and we can try again.
You've been a friend when we've needed one the most.
You've described the destructive thoughts as metaphors that we can find hope from.
You've combined ukulele music with screamo and made it art.
You've given us lyrics to find the motivation to keep going.
You've told us to stay alive, so that's what we do.
Stay alive |-/

Uncle Doug,
Today was a day that I hoped for, but also dreaded for.
I've been hoping to see you one last time,
but I've dreaded knowing that it might be the last.
Today I saw you at your worst.
The cancer was eating all the good things inside of you.
The one thing that cancer did not take was your smile.
It was painfully small, but still a smile.
Today I told you that I loved you.
I've meant to say it more in all of these years.
But at least you heard it again today.
Today was the last day that I'll be able to hug you.
I'll never forget how you squeezed me a little tighter before we let go.
I'll never forget.
I'll never forget.
Yours truly,
Marissa

On that perfect night, my high beams glowed into the foggy distance.
I held down a button to let the cool air blow my hair out the window.
Of course I am harmonizing to my choral music but my mind is somewhere else.
I knew I had to keep my eyes on the road, but the full moon that shone so gracefully through the rearview mirror was impossible not to gaze upon.

Being suicidal
is like driving
up to a yellow light.
Always making
quick decisions
whether to stop
or to keep going.

"Make the most of your time being young."
"Time goes so fast."
"I would do anything to be your age again."

I hear these statements multiple times everyday at work when the the residents ask my name, age, where I live, and if I have a boyfriend.

From what I can see, they clearly wish that they could turn back time, or be doing something different with their lives.
They wish that they could be me again.
But they have no idea how much I want to be them.
Anyone but this.

Mary said, "Honey, never grow up."
"Live and learn," Elaine says.

But instead I say, "Delpha, I wish to age 60 years tonight just to be you."

The other side of the bed is empty. Next to me, no one.
I think of the comfort that they could give me.
But yet I am alone.
The silence strangles me.
And my words, nothing heard.
I sit in the night with nothing to think about, thinking about nothing.
The room is cold.
My heart is cold.
A blanket of hope is what I need for warmth.

Midnight.
Oh, the midnight wave.
The wave of sadness that
takes many casualties.
A depressing thought turns
my eyes to glass
and my heart to stone.
I'm trapped.
A wall in the tropical jungle of dispar
that I can't climb over.
There is no use to call for help
for there is no one in this storm.
The darkness envelopes
my feelings.
And soon I feel the
slightest comfort.
I may be alone
but I look to the
sky for my future
destinations.
Oh, the midnight wave.
Midnight.

She wishes she could pick up a paintbrush and copy her visions onto a blank canvas.
For she wants to paint what she feels, because words just seem to fail.
She wishes that her painting was a masterpiece.
For she wants to be known for something.
She's wishes that one day she would be understood.
For people say that her eyes are in full color, while she sees the world in only black and white.

I crave a love
so deep that
the ocean would
writhe in
jealousy.

I look to the horizon
to see clouds forming
a boundary between
Heaven and hell.
With one raindrop,
the spirit of an angel
falls to the earth
and is renewed to become
human again.
But when the rain dries
the fire begins to burn.
Hell is the element that
fuels the world's flame.
We live in a universe
full of imbalances.
In every situation,
I can count on
that when I look up
I'll know that even
the sky
screams sometimes.

When I was 5, I met a little ******* the yellow school bus with pigtails and ribbons.
Little did I know that this girl would become my best friend.

When I was 8, this little girl with ribbons walked on the yellow school bus with stitches in her forehead.
Little did I know that the stitches weren't an accident.

When I was 11, the little girl with overalls and ribbons in her hair bothered me, and I ignored her.
Little did I know that all she wanted was someone to talk to.

When I was 13, the little girl with ribbons had bruises scattering her body.
Little did I know that the bruises were from someone whom she loved dearly.

When I was 16, the not-so-little girl got very sick and went to the hospital. And little did I know that she was in the hospital because her yellow school bus turned to black and because she wanted her ribbons to turn to rope.

~mj—k

It's not you, why I'm in pain.
It's because we've gone away.
I miss you more than words can explain.
But I fail to know if you feel the same way.
You made me happy when my skies were gray,
So please don't take my sunshine away.

Here I am lying awake
Waiting to make another mistake
You make me feel like I'm flying
But what's the use of trying?
You don't make me feel alone
So maybe my heart is made of stone
I want it to be you and me
But there's other things that you could be.

I walk this gravel road.
All alone, I gaze at the cloudy sky.
Empty is my broken heart.
The cold air engulfs my rosy cheeks.
This world is called
both ugly and beautiful,
but I cannot decide.
For the world is just like me.
Lonely.
Cold.
Despairing.
This is just like me.

Somebody save me.
With opened eyes and a lifted head,
I have never felt so heavy.
With each step I take,
my legs step down
with the weight of Jupiter pushing into the ground.
My eyes have a rapid wander
when they are exposed to light.
Only seconds go by
before they have to shut again.
My head is resting
in a sleep-like-position,
the emptiness could definitely lead to sleep.
My body is letting me.
It's tired,
but my mind,
the restless one,
decides against that objection.
In the process of this meaningless entry,
I have realized that  I have
never felt this strange.
Pay attention to my handwriting,
it has never been this off.
Pay attention to my wording,
my sentences, or words, or ideas
seem incomplete.
This is all similar to me
and how I feel off.
Strange. Not normal.
As the days pass,
I believe the thought that I could be psychotic.
I wouldn't doubt it
from the way I'm feeling.
My vision is blurry,
I couldn't walk straight.
Confusion.
I'm always confused.
Always.
Either with with the way I act,
my thoughts,
and possibly the empty hole and cracks in my heart.
I took double.
Double of something.
Perhaps a double dosage could cause
a hallucination of some type of  feeling.
Or is it the lack of sleep just so powerful
that it has the superiority to make that impact.
I'm so confused.
Does anybody want to switch lives?
I'm willing to do anything
to give up this one.
Please.
Someone.
Anyone.
Please.
Save me.

I can reminisce about hearing the quote, "Some infinities are bigger than other infinities." Now in the present day I'm more near to the understanding. In this certain moment my mind is cluttered with a certain category of infinities. ***, relationships, appearance, conversation, dating, personalization, and self-esteem. This experience of profanity has my attention in a bind. Or would be call this profanity? I haven't the slightest idea. I have this attraction, I have this intense desire. And I have a particular longing and needing. But my emotions are always different; never the same. At a point, my desire for sexuality has never been higher. And at a different point, it could never go lower. He revealed to me his entire being, which to me was never intended. We live in a world of confusion. The land of the unknown. We fear what we do not know. Do we know anything about this? Do we know what the other is thinking? Or what they mean? Or their intentions, actions, or thoughts? I believe against that. We will never know. Only once in the greatest while do we put someone else into prospective. WE care only for ourselves and what we want. No is starting to mean yes. *** is starting to mean marriage. Relationships are starting to mean appearance, or self-esteem. Conversations is starting to mean personalization. Ideas are different. Opinions are different. Goals are different. And in the end, minds and lives are never to be in comparison. Respect is coming out to have no connection whatsoever to responsibility. Changes are dramatic. Society is the evilest of all evil. Minds are tuned, and so are stomachs. This world has to so greatly. Differentiation is something some wish to be a necessity. Real generalizations, and to practice realism without assumptions would be the greatest glory. These thoughts are probably irrelevant to the most abstract minds. Minimization and magnification are used repeatedly; maybe even without recognition. What shall I do to speak my mind without judgement; and be the change I wish to see? To see a different way of seeing. To display examples of the contrast in minds. I have an answer to this, "What shall I do," question. It would be to learn that some infinities are bigger than other infinities.

Perhaps i live my life internally
living by the fear of the unknown
never knowing what to think
what to do
what to portray
what do say
My mind is screaming
but my mouth
only a whisper is released
my body is drowning
but no one notices the suffering
I keep my thoughts internal
and all of my battles
are fought internally
They say to demolish what destroys you
but what if its myself that is destroying me
They will never know
because i will never say
I will keep on how i always have been
to keep everything in internally

Asking for help is not the problem, but the guilt afterwards is. The telling of my emotions would be bearable without the feeling in the familiar aftermath. If I reveal what happened, the explanation would be unknown. The confusion, questions, and anger of what I did would control me. I would have to explain. I would have to explain why. "Why did you do that?" "Why didn't you tell me?" "What was going on?" "I'm so sorry." "Are you okay?" "Is there anything I can do to help?"

NO.

What am I supposed to say? How am I supposed to respond? How will I get through a day without all of that?

Do I ignore it? Do I try to make them understand? But both of those options are useless. They're both not worth my time or tears; but my questions still remain unanswered. I don't know. And at the time I couldn't care any less.

I care too much, I don't care enough. I say too little, I say too much. My current quest is to discover the happy medium between this all. Today, tomorrow, or never? Which will it be?

Give me passion. I want it. I need the fire. I want my heart to beat again. I need to feel alive. Give me someone. Give me love. I want a life. I want it now. I need the lips. I need the kiss. Give me loyalty. Give me someone. I want the blood. I need the scars. I want my skin to scream. I need to feel alive. Give me someone. I want it. I want to love. I need the love. I want it. I need it. Give me the moon. Give me strength. Give me pain. Give me addiction. I want it. I need it. Give me sparks. Give me death. I want it. I need it. Give me shots. Give me rope. Give me blades. Give me knives. I want it. I need it. Give me desire. Give me longing. I want it. I crave it. I need the *****. I need the drug. I need someone. I want it I need it. I want more. I need more. Give me love. I need passion. I want the fire. I need the sparks. I need the stars. I want a heart that's healed. I want the lips. I want the kiss. I need the touch. I need the breath. Give me love. Give me someone. I want it. I need it. I want truth. I want purity. But need regret. I want worthwhile. I need it. I need it. I want the difference. I need the matteration. I want life. But I need death. I want company. But I have loneliness. I want light. But I'm stuck in the darkness. I want heaven. I want hell. I want. I want. I want. I want forever. I want you. I need you. I crave you. I want you. Give me nothing. But I need nothing. I want everything. But I need nothing. Give me blood. Give me death. Give me rope. Give me guns. I want peace. I need rest. I need happiness. But I have sadness. I need the blood. I need the scars. I need death, for it is above all. I have nothing. And so I'll need death. Give me forever. Give me regret. Give me heaven. I have the transportation. Give me the right vein. Give me strong rope. I now have rest. I now have happiness. I now have love. And I now have someone. Above all.

Some people say the worse feeling in the world is when you didn't mean as much to a person as you thought you did.

Maybe I was blind.
Or maybe it was all a lie.

Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.

Everyone is telling me lies.
I keep telling myself lies.

And the lies don't leave.
Oh no, they're here to tear you apart.

Everyday they take a piece of me away.
Soon there will be nothing left of me.

Nothing left
but a lie.

I wish that I could fall in love. Be in a true, compassionate, loyal, and loving relationship. If I could make it happen right now, I would. I picture a face, but I know it will not be him. Because if it was, we would have fallen in love the first time our eyes met. Oh, I wish it could be him, but I know there is better. Which means I have to wait... My heart was broken and still is healing. It's just been so long without a relationship. No, it's not a bad thing at all. But I've been longing for passion. I want fire in my heart again. When it's dark, when it's night, I'm laying awake in my bed, my thoughts engulf me. That makes me imaging that someone is there to rescue me. He'd wrap his arms around me, and hold me until the tears stop falling. He would kiss me, and say that everything will be alright because he is here. He would be someone that I could turn to when I feel my brain taking all control over me. He could protect me from my own mind, and make it all for the better. But then my imagination has turned back to reality, and I realize that my wish was not granted. Many people say that dreams do come true. But how much should I believe it? Even if it is true, that still means waiting. Waiting to get through the night, another day, another week, another year. Waiting to get through all of this pain and suffering. But when I finally end up with the one of my dreams, I will truly be able to say:

"I've waited for you my whole life."