My minds been spinning because I’ve been thinking about how I want to spend time with you more than anything. But it is hindering to even think about sending a text, or about what comes next if you actually say yes. Considering rejection even from a friend, is enough to send me reeling, I find myself feeling sick, wanting no part of it. Yet I check on you consistently, because I know what you are struggling with. But this pit in my stomach is fazed every time I see your face, my logic is locked and fades away without a trace. I just want to take you by the hand, pull you in for a kiss on your lips, and to make you feel blissful like everything you ever wished for is right here in front of you. Because your smile is both electrifying and terrifying, leaving me petrified, a result of these emotions that I am not used to. I often wonder if I make you feel the same way that I do, but my ignorance of your consciousness leaves me unsure of my next move. The only certainty that concerns me is I want to make you smile perpetually, and leave your worries behind you permanently.

Everybody
Is broken
At least a little bit
Since when did brokenness land on a measurement of more, or less?
Like, beaten is better than broken,
It's better to be battered than shattered

But last I checked broken was a loss of functionality,
If you can't do the same things you used to without crying,
You're just as broken as the rest of us,
If you just don't smile as often as you used to,
You're just as broken as the rest of us,
If you can't even hold a pencil without your hand shaking,
I'm sorry, you're broken, just like the rest of us.

What if I told you that in order to be truly broken you have to accept it,
What if I told you that in order to accept brokenness you inherently accept that you were ever whole in the first place and you, were made of pieces.
Two halves came together to make you,
And no self inflicted bashing, slashing or thrashing will bring you alive again because you were never dead
You have so many parts that have lost segments of code
You're not broken, you've just altered your directive
Because brokenness, assumes that you have a function,
And
If you can't perform a function anymore,
It's okay to find a new one.
You're not broken,
You're just weathered.

I sit alone in this park that I’ve known for so long, and listen to bird’s songs, in the hopes my mind will grow tranquil and clam.
I await words to write, to relieve some strife, seeking merely a sliver of a slice of peace of mind. But time comes to a halt, as ghosts with a waltz, dance through my head causing dread, harboring memories from when I was young.
Still naïve and oblivious of the strenuous afflictions to come.
With thoughts collected, I reminisce these recollections, of when the world was filled with bliss, and wish that life was still like this.
When every day is an adventure to be treasured and joy is never severed, I’m care free because responsibility does not exist, within, my limited vocabulary yet.
Each day is met with set structures from a structured home, where mom and dad, still pretend they’re glad, which means I have no reason to be sad. And so, I still don’t know, what it’s like to feel alone, in a broken failing home.
Normalcy becomes conformity, complacently but blatantly forming a shell of apathy.
Because now dad yells,  and the children’s eyes swell, with tears of fear, my mom’s with sheer, determination to captain this ship, stubbornly sit, amidst, these waves of irritation mixed with infidelity.
I found myself stuck in a storm, totally torn, as my joy is worn consistently down. I clown around to be sound, but a permanent frown, is brazenly embroidered into my broodingly breaking soul.
Time flew by ignored my cries to slow, and so my consciousness consented its blissfulness to turn to bitterness, my brokenness was all that I knew, and soon, it was all I could show.
Although now I’m older, still too often I smolder with rage, and both shoulders have boulders, for chips but I’ll fight fate, abate my hate, to keep my future family safe.
Safe from the games my parents played to hide their shame, of a marriage disparaged by barriers, bolstered with a selfish taint. I will sufficiently and selflessly safeguard my wife from treachery. To not neglectfully or carelessly, lead her into insanity. For bride and seed, I will succeed, to do everything my parents failed to do for me.

I’m smiling fictitiously, feigning functionality, I battle growing apathy, due to your incessant irrationality. Spewing hate filled bigotry, by angrily insulting me is no longer satisfactory, i've been growing rather weary of your paltry ****** misery. You act like you’re a victim, when you’re actually vindictive, yet everyone still beckons, to your pretentious petty whims.
Your consistent conniptions are causing great friction, you’re a deplorably toxic affliction that your friends have to endure. You don’t seek a cure, ignore the people who care, and never mature, but sure. We are what’s wrong.
Affecting everyone around you with your irritating ignorance, not noticing the damage that you make your friends experience. By acting solely on your selfishness, you’re becoming quite a hindrance.
Replace this self-annihilation with rehabilitation. You’re always seeking affirmation but go about it the wrong way, keep up this desolation and then no one’s going to stay for you. Because with enough persistent pressure, the strongest rock will become weathered, the bonds you’ve made will start to sever, you’re going to lose your friends forever.

Contemptuous rage grows in my soul, welcoming hate to take control, and breaking apart my peaceful mould.
Fueled with animosity, brimming with ferocity, these feelings that were taught to me, to flee, instead are embraced wholeheartedly as muscles shake and ache with tension, punches fly without retention, as knuckles bleed unwrapped with rags, by repeatedly beating this punching bag.

Anxious sensations flood through my veins every waking hour.
Terror and violence make love in the maze that makes up my mind, producing venomous children that terrorize every barely mustered thought.
Struggling to focus on anything but, I fill my lungs with smoke.
Fighting to stay awake I ingest countless toxic chemicals.
Running from the hive of voices attacking me, I add even more smoke to the mix.
How are you’s batter my head, as are you okay’s taunt me.
Fine is all I can say but with each second that passes I want to scream in your face to make you stop asking unless you want the real answer.
But I can only scream internally. Suffering silently. Never escaping this unending anxiety.