I really never use the word hate
But boy do I hate when people ask me if I’m okay
Mainly because I can never gather the words
To tell them how I really feel. But if
You’re looking for my answer to that question
It goes a little something like this.
“No I’m not okay. I’m breaking into a million
Pieces right in front of everyone and no one notices.
I’m losing weight and it’s not from working out.
My thoughts are creating a hurricane in my brain
And I can not calm the storm.
My heart is a battlefield at war with my mind
And I’m afraid I’m losing this battle.”
But wait there’s more...
“My nose hurts from snorting to many lines of insecurity, my arms are weak from trying to pull myself out of all this self doubt and worry, my wrists are wounded from the cuts I allowed others to make.
My smile has been playing hide and seek for awhile now and I’m still searching for it... by the time I find it I may just be 6 feet under.. which doesn’t sound like
A bad idea... I’m tired. I want to sleep.
I think I’m going to take the rest of this pain medicine
Because this pain is to deep, the wounds won’t heal
And hell im tired of feeling. So I think I want to sleep.
Yeah. That’s what I want to do sleep and be at peace”  But instead I’ll smoke this blunt filled
With fake I love yous and it’ll be alrights, to numb the pain for a little while. Instead I’ll drink this whiskey until I’ve drowned out all this feeling. Instead I’ll just say goodnight and sleep to forget about being alive for a little while. But trust me “I’m okay”

My teacher once asked “ What’s your definition of anxiety?”
Everyone around me raised their hand and I
I... lowered my head.
I wanted to raise my hand but anxiety told me not to
It told me not to because the popular girl in the front of the class
Surrounded by all her friends
Might laugh at a loser like me
I’m not a loser but anxiety makes me feel like i lose
In any situation that I’m in
So that makes me.. a loser.
Anxiety is me struggling to fit in all the places
I know i’ll never fit in at.
It’s me putting on my skin tight jeans with my converse
Because that’s what all the other girls are wearing.
Anxiety is me crying at 3 in the morning because the kid
I like won’t talk to me, even though I’ve never spoke to him.
I’ve never spoke to him because every time I walk up to him
My anxiety throws a rope around me and pulls me back
Saying you are not good enough for him
And I start to wonder if I am even good enough for myself.
Anxiety makes me wonder if i’ll ever be capable of loving someone
Because I can’t love myself the way I need to be loved.
And that makes me scared to love.
I deleted this poem 5 times because my anxiety told me
No one would read it.
“Anxiety is like a toddler.
It never stops talking and it
Always tell you, you’re wrong.
And it wakes you up at 3 a.m”
That is my definition of anxiety.

Find yourself a love that
Makes waking up and smelling
The crisp morning air
Worth it

Find a love that
Makes faking in love
A lot less painful
A love that makes you
Feel like you're in a fairytale
Instead of a nightmare
Love is supposed to be magical
Not fearful

Find yourself a love that
The makes the sun shine
Brighter on gloomy days
And one the doesn't make
The night seem so dark

Find that love
And keep it
For now a days
A love like that
Is rare.

I do not understand how people just chew you up and spit you out.
Half the time I don't understand what is coming out of your mouth.
I loved you and you loved me but i guess our time ran out.

You ran to her and I stayed still
Hoping that you'll come back even though you never will.

I've watched couples smile and be happy, thinking what did i do wrong?
But it wasn't me, it was you all along.

You came back but i told you no.
Then you told me you had no where to go.

I felt bad, but i didn't care.
Hoping i'd turn around and you wouldn't be there!

You said "what happened? you use to love me"
And I said "yeah USE too"

There had to be more than 200 people in the room. I stood on stage filming, and I couldn't help but notice her. I watched as she swayed back and forth to the music. I captured every moment of the way her body moved. I tried so hard to not just foucus on her. As the night went on I found myself filming her oer and over again. I longed for her energy and her presence. She inspired me. Her smile. The way her eyes lit up. I longed for it all. The worst part of it all? She was a mystery. I didn't know her name, her interests, nothing. Nothing but a beautiful soul captured in a lens. And that's all I'll ever know of her.

Ohana means family and family is forever
But the times get rough when we all aint together
Who's fighting with who
And you're walking around crazy cause you don’t know what do.
When one says a name the other one flinches  
and every time you turn around another one is *******
What happened to the times wed **** for each other
Take a bullet for each other
Now its turned  into "We'd **** one another"
everyone's depressed cause none of us are talking
Then it gets worse when one of us goes walking.
Ohana means family but sometimes family aint forever.

Mom doesn't me. I do not mean me physically because I am there but emotionally mom does not see me. She doesn't see the tears that form a puddle at the end of my pillow. She does not see the hair pulled from my head because of stress.
Mom doesn't see me. I do not mean emotionally I mean mentally. She doesn't understand the discomfort I feel when everything is bottled up but I can not speak to her about it.  She doesn't see how far apart we actually are, even though we live in the same house.
Mom doesn’t see that no matter how hard I try the bed pulls me closer. My blankets have covered me and kept me warm at night more than she ever has. She doesn’t realize my pillow is the shoulder I lean on when I need someone.  
Mom doesn’t see that I'm depressed. She doesn’t see the emotional pain I go through because I have 7 smiles locked away in my dresser. One for every day of the week.  
Mom doesn't see I'm suicidal. Although I have never told her most parents know already. She doesn’t know that I've tried killing myself more than once.  
Mom doesn’t see my eagerness to leave. She doesn’t see that my mind is going crazy trying to figure out a way to stay here and not be miserable. She doesn’t see the bag I've packed away just incase I run away.  
Mom doesn’t see me. The real me. The one who is eager to explore, the one who writes and sings. She doesn’t see that I can be loving. She doesn't see who I want to be. Instead she believes I'm trying to be someone I am not.  
Mom doesn’t see me. Maybe I don’t see me either.

You killed me emotionally

I hate you!

The memories of you disappear like the leaves on the trees in winter
Fading away like the silhouette of a ghost
Your love has diminished as if it were never there
The feeling of your hand locked within mine escape me
The thoughts of you burn inside my mind and the ashes fly away
You've come and gone as the seasons do
The sound of your voice leaves my ears like the rain  leaves the clouds
You are gone from me, never to be seen again
And all those memories disappear

It's hard when you use to feel way at the top
Like you would never stop
Every one telling you how good you've done
Making you feel like you were number one
But in the blink of an eye you go from one to done
zero, zip, nada, none
You thought you'd never fail the ones you loved
But we all make mistakes
Like breakups and makeups
Sometimes it may be better to just give up
But how many mess up will it take you to realize your done
Never being number one.

His eyes cry tears of pain, as he lays in his bed and stares out the window. Always wishing he was somewhere rather than home. Home was a mysterious place he was no longer familiar with. As he traces the scars upon his body he begins to break down more. Walking the halls forced to wear a costume because he is to afraid to show everyone how he really feels. Depressed and alone. Black represents agony and pain and blue to represent the tears that roll down his pillow every night. No friends or anyone for that matter to help him on his long journey through hell. They hear his cries but refuse to aid in fear of what might happen. The voices fill his head and the pain comes worse and worse. And just like that not one living person had noticed he vanished except for the bridge and the water.