You're too young to be in love.

You're too young to want to end your life, you've barely lived it.

You're too young to have any real troubles.

You're to young to know what's reality and what's not.

You're too young to make rational decisions on you're own.

You're too young to know the meaning of true beauty.

You're too young to have your own opinions on this modern day society.

You're too young to know what it feels like to truly be happy.

You're too young to know what it feels like to have been through hell and back.

You're to young to know what true disappointment feels like.

You're too young to know what it feels like to be completely heartbroken.

You're too young to understand what I'm talking about.

Well if I'm too young you should know having knowledge about life isn't measured by how long you've been alive, but by the experiences you've faced.

And you wouldn't know what I've had to go through to know the things I know about this lovely thing we call life.

My youth has nothing to do with you.

Under his bed collecting dust.
An old toy, no one to trust.
Take this chord, around my neck. Pray to God that they forget.
Start to slip, then feel a hand.
Pull me from this dusty den.  
Untie the rope and looks at me.
Runs away, what did he see?

She sits in the room,
It's dark and it's quiet.
Above her, though,
It sounds like a riot.
Chairs are moved,
Sounds are made.
But if she's to whisper,
The price would be paid.
They call it a prison,
They call it Hell.
But only she knows,
The pain this well.
They'll pick,
and they'll tease,
and watch her,
As she falls to her knees.
She tries not to let them,
But they come anyway.
The tears, they fall,
As her head does in shame.
She doesn't want,
To face another day.
Alone in her room,
She'd much rather stay.
She's sick of the torture,
Sick of the pain.
But she goes to the bus stop,
And stands in the rain.
The bus ride *****,
And the picking won't end.
So a text to her mother,
She knows she must send.
"Hey mom, come get me,
I know you're at work.
I'm sick from dinner,
Last night's pulled pork."
She knows it's wrong,
To lie and deceive.
But she needed an excuse,
To get out and leave.
She's back in her room,
It's a safe place to think.
"I don't want to live anymore,"
She says with one final blink.

I reach out my hand and grasp at the air.
My eyes well with tears, how can this be fair?
Surrounded by these people, but cursed to feel alone.
Forced to wander my mind, without a place to call home.
The tears, now a steady stream down my cheeks.
I hide my face and I begin to silently weep.
The people who care asking if I am okay.
Then they assume that I am, they resume with their day.
When I try and I try, never leaving them alone.
All I hear when I need help, is the blank dial tone.
I drop to my knees, finally giving up all thought.
I decide this is where I should be, left to rot.
I wish I could show myself, they really want to help.
But i can't seem to let them, I force myself into hell.
I lie here alone, alone with just my mind.
I wait to be consumed by it, it's just a matter of time.
I close my eyes, hearing the pleas of those I let down.
And I lie in my coffin, as I'm lowered six feet into the ground.

Anyone,
Can make poetry.
But it takes a soul,
To make a poet's dreams.

Through darkest nights,
and gloomy days.
Thou shall send me,
On my way.

In the slump
Of the dread
Of the mist
That's filling my head

I wish I could be the optimist,
Happy and care-free
Trying to miss
I've changed, not in a good way.

Do you see me,
Outside the Library.
Or in the School halls?
Do i carry a knife, To add to my strife.

Try to splat my blood on the walls,
Do i look like,
A suicidal freak?
Or am I suddenly, just very meek?

Kids in our day and age,
Immature and Happy faze.
Shouting " Not fair "
To a week-off social media.

Am i one to seem?
To scrape the knife
Over my skin,
To make me bleed?

Do I look like
Someone who loves
Sight of blood
Taste and shroud.

Appearances are deceiving
To my make-believing,
That everything will be alright.
Cut my tongue, taste the blood.

I worship my knife.
It smells like my blood,
Tastes like it too.
Love it, I do.

In the darkness, gloomy depths
If you could see my mind.
You'd see the secrets I hide.
Would you be shocked?