Someday you will be out in the world
Having pulled every root of yours
From the ground
And torn every heartstring
From those around you
On your way
Out.
Too busy
Too skittish
Too wild
Too cowardly
Too strong
For them all.
And you will turn around and find
That you are alone for the first time
My friend
And you will realize
That there is nobody left who is wishing they could talk to you
Nobody who would come running to your side
If you called them at 1 in the morning
Nobody who thinks of you every day or even every few
With fondness and hope.
And you will feel very sad
My friend
Because you will have so carefully pushed them all away that you will see nobody left who cares that you still live.
But
Even though you will not speak to me
Even though you hardly look at me
Even though
You don't want to know me
You'll be wrong, when you realize all that
Because there will still be me.
That is my last gift to you.

My special talent is courage.
I know it maybe doesn't seem it. I know I sit small. I know talk soft. But courage is my special, special talent. I go for what I want. And sometimes I forget how rare that is. Sometimes I forget that people lay it all on the stage, but not on the table. I wear my scars in art all along my arms not to remind me that I have been hurt but to remind me that I fought for something. Something real. Something worth risking this for.
I live hard. I love hard. I risk, hard. And because of that I go to bed every night knowing that if there is something I want, I mean something I ache for with my whole heart and all the dark parts of my soul, if there is something I crave and I don't have it, I can sleep knowing I have done absolutely everything I can about it.
When I fail, I fail so spectacularly that you could write a play about it. And people would clap. When I fall I hit bottom so hard the echoes could level a city. And I love every moment. Because we aren't here to leave this life unscathed. I have broken so beautifully and so completely that now I am free. Little parts of me have scattered into all the corners of the places I've cried in, and now I find I CAN cry. I can breathe. I can love someone hard enough to run after them down the street, look them in the eyes, and tell them I'll love them until the day I die, even when I know they will turn around and walk away. I carry this beautiful, wild, mad devotion to my heart within me, and it is so dangerous, but it is so worth it. Whether I win or lose, it is so... worth it.
Life will ******* up, and kick you down, and bleed you until you think you have nothing left. But you don't. You only have nothing left if you decide you do. I have every ugly, exquisite moment I ever loved or lost and they fill me with pride. Because, you know, I did something about every, single, one of them. Never have I sat in silence and let my life lead me. Never have I given up and walked away from someone or something that made me feel even a little bit. And I never, ever will. Because I know why I'm here, and it's that.
And because every time I remember how truly, madly brave I am no matter the consequences, I feel nothing but joy.

Depression is
"I should shower now, while I'm still feeling okay."
Depression is
Drinking water with every bite because you don't want to eat.
Depression is
Having an audiobook on while you sleep to keep yourself from waking up vulnerable.
Depression is
Taking risks to try and reach yourself.
Depression is
Vivid memories overlaying themselves on reality.
Depression is
Wanting to do your schoolwork but being unable to find the strength.
Depression is
Not answering texts because too much interaction tires you out.
Depression is
Having to work harder than everyone else for the same result, and being called lazy anyhow.
Depression is
Sleeping for 14 hours and still being tired.
Depression is
The guilt that comes with finding one person who makes you feel good, and knowing you will burden them.
Depression is
Being left by your lovers or friends because they don't understand.
Depression is
Piles of ***** laundry you wish you had the inner fortitude to do.
Depression is
Wandering the empty roads in the middle of the night because you can't sit still.
Depression is
Reading a book whenever you are in public to ease the stress.
Depression is
Not always
Visible.

I'm sorry you saw me lingering there.
I just wanted
To see you smile.

I think I finally understand.

I'm the part of you you'd love to ****,
And you're the part of me I'd love to die by.
We were a perfect, violent match
For a moment
And that is why although we never touched
Our craving and disgust for one another
Burns us whenever we meet eyes now.

It's okay if you forget me for an hour, or even a day,
So long as each night when you fall asleep I am there in your head and your heart
As you are there in mine.

I trusted you.
That's really the gist of it.
That's why this won't go away.
I let many people into my life
Good and bad
Strong and weak
Tender and cold
But I trust so few.
Even those who deserve it
Even those who prove their loyalty
I trust
So few.
I trusted you.
I trusted you.
I think my trust must carry venom
And poison the people I bestow it on
Because you are not cruel.
Not you.
You are not sudden like the strike of a cobra.
You are not cold like ice.
Not you.

None of them were.
None of them ever were before they were
To me.

(Rage more.)

The truth is that I still trust you.
The truth is that I laugh when you say something funny to someone else and your face lights up,
And smile when you get what you want,
And wish you well whenever I look at you.
The truth is that I can't help it.

All I am is sad even though I try
I try so hard
To be angry at you for hurting me.
For hurting me and turning away
As if that helps anything.
For throwing your hands up at the first sign that perhaps
When I told you over and over that you had my trust
I meant it.
And that perhaps
You broke it.
And that perhaps
You might contribute to the storm that is me, well-
You've always stood for storms before
And let them reach your heart.
And you will stand for mine.
The day you didn't leave when I gave you your first chance
Was the day you chose to influence my heart and soul
My self worth
My happiness.
It is a choice I warn everyone not to make lightly.
It is a choice that few understand until they regret having made it.
You like the rain, darling?
You like
The thunder?
Rage MORE-
There is a hurricane in my blood
Every cell
Swirling and savage
And you
You stirred it up
You made it scalding sweet-
And you of all people
You who've seen so very many
Should know that there is no halting
A storm.
No fleeing from it.
No reasoning with it,
And no
Abandoning it.
I trusted you.
I
Trusted
You.

Rage more.