I writher in agony,
Feeling the bruises coming to my body.

I try to scream,
But my throat runs dry.

Sobs rip through me,
At an undying pace.

I feel myself being maimed,
My body has been marked painfully.

I smell the sicking musky scent,
He continuously applies.

My sobs are getting worse,
The pain becoming unbearable.

I am numb,
Feeling nothing,
But still feeling everything.

My body is a canvas,
Of multi-colored graffiti.

Bruises scattered here and there,
Repeatedly.

I cannot move easily,
I am moving painfully.

I am hurt,
I’m pained,
Not only physically,
But mentally as well.

You may say,
Sexuality is a choice.

It isn’t,
I am pansexual,
I am 14,
I was born like this.

You cannot tell me I am confused,
When I have always been this way.

I may not have said anything,
But obviously this is not a choice.

I was afraid to disappoint my Mother and Father,
I didn’t think they would approve,
If given the choice I would be straight.

But obviously I am not,
I was born like this.

Do not have the audacity,
To tell me I don’t know who I am yet.

I may not no who I am,
But I can tell you this,
I know who I am interested in.

What if there was nothing.
Nothing musical.
Nothing artistic.
Nothing beautiful.

We would roam the earth,
Feeling nothing.
Hearing nothing worth value.

We would be so bored.
Most of us
Wouldn't see a purpose in life.

Me personally
I need music
It’s my lifeline.

Music is like a rope,
Holding me to the Earth.

I feel it digging into my ankle
Keeping me in touch with reality.

I feel like a balloon.
Full of helium
Floating inches above the earth
But the rope of musical notes keeps me here.

I can feel the bass
Jumping through me
Jolting me into the world.

I feel the music,
It’s holding me safely.

I’m not leaving that easily,
My music rope is holding me.

Why is sadness such an intoxicating feeling?
Why is sadness like a drug,
And why do I repeatedly medicate myself with this feeling?

Why would I continue feeling like this?
It is an always thing,
Or is it a sometimes thing?

Sometimes I am sad,
Sometimes I am depressed,
This is not normal.

I am not a normal person,
I am unhappy,
I am depressed.

I have issues but,
I live with them.

If I wasn’t living with them,
I would be dead,
I wouldn’t exist.

I would have left,
Left this earth,
Never to return.

Suicide,
Would have been what I turned to.
I would have seen it as my only choice.

If I live with them,
For long enough,
I’ve learned they go away in time.

In time,
Everything goes away.

Sadness,
Depression,
Anything unhappy,
Goes away in time.

Everything gets better in time.
Whether or not you want to accept it.

Don’t watch the clock,
It makes time slow down.
If you watch this mental clock,
Nothing will ever become easier.
It all gets harder.

If you just wait,
It may seem hard now,
But if you wait,
It will get better.

I promise that to you.

Read my poems,
though read them right.
You can't just read them like
you are reading a book,
And think "this is not that good".
What is this?
These are words from my heart,
Don't underestimate.
The power contained in each word,
Sings a tune,
Read it like that,
Like a song,
that's the way it deserves to be read.
You then might feel what I feel
and appreciate each word
And let them touch your heart,
and truly understand what's being said.
Each word a journey of my hearts content,
Or its losses,
Some possibly written with tears dripping,
On the keyboard,
true emotions,
Deserve respect.

Your lips,
Are sweeter than honey.

Your smile,
Is more addictive than *******.

Your eyes,
Are so intoxicating its like perfume.

Your laugh,
Is music to me.

You,
Are perfect for me.

Perhaps without death,
I will not live.

But how would that work?
My dear friends,
Not one person is truly living,
Until they are dying.