I gave you my heart,
I poured my soul into those words,
But you're still going for the "other girl".
I guess what they say about Karma is right,
Shes truly a *****.

There comes a moment,
When you're too broken,
And you're laying on your bed,
Flat on your stomach,
With your head to the side,
And your limbs sprawled out,
Like a fallen ****** victim.
With your music up as loud as it can go,
With people screaming at you,
That you just break down.
Breathe in,
And hyperventilate it back out.
Take a moment,
To be broken.

As I read through my old journal,
I realized what I have overcome,
How much I've learned,
And I remembered why I used to hate reading and writing.
Dyslexia has always been a pain for me.
I couldn't really read until I was in 3rd grade.
I could read,
But its because I saw words like pictures.
I knew what they were,
But I never gave them any real thought.
I would read,
"The cat is brown."
And my teacher would ask,
"What color is the cat?"
And I would respond with,
"What cat?"
Like the lady had lost her mind.
I started my journal when I was in 5th grade.
I had practically only been reading for 2 years.

I'm grateful now,
Of how far I've came.
Before,
I couldn't spell simple words.
I spelt the word remember as remeber.
The word sandwich was sandwicht for me.
Diary was dairy.
Behind was beeheind.
Even so much as the word and had its own difficulties. I spelt it as aedn.
The word sorry was missing an "R" and the word very had an extra one.
Concrete was concreaete.
A purse was a purce to me.
Every time I would write a poem,
I would write pemo and then put a number beside of it.
I wouldn't have a clay model, I would have a klayh modle.
Festival was feastaival.
Favorite was favearit.
Does was dose,
And should was suhood.

Living with this...
To say the least has been a struggle,
But I've overcame it,
And I'm proud of how far I've come.

All these kids,
They cry,
Scream,
And *****,
"I WANT FREEDOM FROM MY PARENTS!"

That simple freedom does not concern me.
I want freedom, but not just from my parents so I can stay out late.
I want freedom,
From my peers,
From my family,
From the government,
And from myself.

I want to be free to walk down the halls,
Hand in hand with a girl,
Who I'm in love with.
I want to be able to do that,
With no fear in my heart.
No worries or names called,
Or punches thrown.
I want that freedom.

I want the freedom to be able to bring a girl home,
And show her to my parents,
And tell her how much I love her,
In front of them.
I want to be able to talk to my mom,
About relationship problems,
About the GIRL who broke my heart,
But I cant.

I want the freedom to marry.
To marry any person I choose,
No matter the gender.
Male,
Or female,
It should not matter.
My happiness,
And the way I spend my life,
Is not something that should be voted on,
By those with half a brain.

I want freedom from myself,
To accept me,
And be who I am,
Without any shame.
But I can't do that,
Unless I have the freedom from others,
To be me,
And be happy with that.

I want the freedom to be gay.
Some may complain,
That the gays are already free,
Too much maybe.
But that is not the case.
We're not persecuted,
But we're not free.

All throughout history there has been movements for freedom.

There was one of religious freedom,
When puritans came to the New World from Britain.
A war was started,
And freedom came out with a victory.

There was one of freedom for slaves,
So that they could live the lives they wanted,
And not have to be owned,
And treated like property,
By another human being.
Once again,
A war was started,
And the slaves were freed.

There was one of freedom for women,
So that women could be the same as men,
Equals.
There were marches,
And protests,
And women rights came out on top.

There was one of freedom for those of color,
So that they can mix,
And mingle,
With the race that whites thought was superior.
There were marches,
And sit ins,
Protests,
And brawls,
But guess who won in the end?

We are working towards freedom of LGBTQ,
lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning/queer,
And one way or another,
We will eventually get our freedom.

Look at all these past freedom movements,
There were always two sides to it.

Which side are you on?
Is it the right one?

This is not the land of the free and the home of the brave.
This is the land of the *** ******* cowards,
And the home of the "You can be free, if we allow it."

I think its about time we either lived up to our motto,
Or changed it.

How is it possible...
To hate yourself as much as I do?
To look down at yourself,
And break out in tears because of what you see.
And there's nothing you can do about it,
But try to change,
And be somebody you aren't.
Try to be the same person,
With a different shell,
And be perfect.
How can you hate yourself to the point you want to get rid of yourself,
Or to the point that you cut and bruise,
And starve.
How can you hate yourself as much as I do?
How does one be happy?

Ghosts haunt this empty house.
A little girl,
Searching every room,
And running through the halls,
Looking for her dad,
Waiting for him to come home.
Lingering around,
She can't understand.
Shes just a child.
Lost.
She doesn't know whats going on,
Only that shes alone.
Strange people living in her house,
They just ignore her,
Like she isn't even there.
Their child,
A little girl too,
Screams every time she sees her,
Like shes some kind of monster.
The little girl screams "ghost!",
Ghost?
Shes not a ghost.
Shes just a lost little girl,
Who wants her dad,
And someone to love her.
No one ever thought about how the ghost girl feels.

What does it mean to be a human?
Is it a physical thing?
It must be more than that.
Emotional?
Religious, maybe?
Because if we are human,
Why aren't we all treated equally?
If you're such a Christian,
What happened to love your neighbor?
Or judge not less ye be judged?
Why must you treat people,
Living human beings,
Like any less than human...
Just because they're different?
Because they don't do what you do,
Or believe the same things as you?
It doesn't give you the right to treat them like ****.
You dont run the world.
There are 7 billion people in the world,
Do you really expect 7 billion people to believe,
And do the same things you do,
And live the life that you do?
Thats just absurd.
Be a little open,
Hate a little less,
And maybe you'll finally see the world as its meant to be seen...
God's beautiful creation,
And all the people in it,
We were all created by God.
Don't hate His creations,
Just because He made them different than He made you.
Love,
Love is all we need.
God loves all His children.
Why can't you?

The cuts,
Are turning white,
And pink,
And into scars.
While the scars,
They're staring to fade,
But the memories never will.

You can go now,
You dont have to stay.
I'm a ******* for a friend,
Why would you anyways?

You can leave,
And never look back.
Go ahead and go,
I would too, and that's a fact.

I wouldn't blame you.
This is my apology,
Just go, you're better off with me gone,
Cant you see?

I am a loser,
And I am a leech.
I **** the life out of you,
I'm worse for you than drinking bleach.

So this is my apologies,
For the time you spent on me.
I'd give it back to you if I could,
But life is such a B.

It doesn't work like that,
But if only it did,
I would give it back to you,
From the moment I laid eyes on you as a kid.

If you dont leave I swear,
I will push you away.
So go, lets do this harmlessly,
Let this go my way.

I promise you I still love you,
With every fiber of my being.
I love you so much I'm setting you free,
Do me a favor by leaving.

You'll be better off without me,
I swear that its true.
I'm a blood ******* leech,
Who doesn't deserve you.

Death is a scary thing,
For everyone.
Its another step in the process of life,
Going into the unknown,
And never being able to return.
There's no opt out of death,
And frankly,
That scares the **** out of me.

Dear God,
Are you there?
If you are,
Please hear me out.
I'm not perfect,
And you've already done so much for me,
But please do this.
Please save her.
Please make her healthy,
Because I'm scared,
Lord.
And I'm turning to you,
Because our worldly things aren't enough.

Last night,
I talked to her,
And I realized how much I truly missed her.
I thought I was over her,
That she was a thing of the past,
But no.
Shes a thing of the present,
And hopefully the future.
I miss her,
And I'm determined to make her mine again.
Because...
Shhhh!
Don't tell nobody,
But I think I love her.

I feel pretty,
Sometimes.
Only when my mask is on,
My hair is fixed,
And everything is in place.
But underneath all that,
There is no natural beauty.
Just an ugly,
Fat,
Frizzy haired girl.

I've fell before,
Into her arms,
And she caught me,
But then quickly dropped me,
Like the nothing that I am.
I'm about to fall again.
The rope's about to break.
Is it safe to fall,
Into her loving arms,
For one last time,
Is it safe to fall again?

I'm strong.
I am strong.
I will not,
And can not,
Let this take me over.
No, not again.
For I fear that I am only one relapse,
Two at most,
Away from my final demise.

My **** country accent.
Why?
Why do you make me sound like a back woods hick,
With no education?
I know that in the town I come from,
You cant go a mile without seeing a cow field or a church,
But cut me a little slack.
I aint country like yall.
Do I look it?
I dress in black.
My hair is straight.
Eyeliner is my bestfriend,
And Converse are a necessity.
Why must I sound like yall?
I may speak the same,
As you back woods,
Out in the holler,
Country folk,
But I aint like you.

I am going to write a book,
A 365 page book,
About the things that go on in my life.
It will have tales of sadness,
Im sure,
But hopefully there will be tales of joy,
And love.
Love for my love,
Hopefully.

2013,
This is for you.

The year started out in hell.
There was family drama,
Fights,
Court dates,
And DSS.
Then you kinda leveled out.
I met a boy,
Named Devin,
And he ran my world.
I discovered and came to terms with something,
During that time I was with Devin.
I came to terms with the fact that I liked girls too.
I came out to him,
And my closest friends,
And then eventually my mom.
Not everyone liked it.
All year I had been taking stick pins to my skin,
And making little scratch marks.
After that,
I moved to razors.
I had always had anxiety,
But I would have 3 attacks,
Within the span of a day.
At school,
I got bullied,
And beat up.
At many points during the year,
I wanted tp end my life,
But I didn't.
I'm still here.
Almost at the end of the year,
I started dating my bestie from 4th grade,
Named Katlyn,
But then things spiraled out of control.
Life is still hell,
But things are getting better,
Im starting to pick up the pieces.
I hated 2013 with a passion,
But I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world,
Because its the year I became me.

I thought I was over her,
I thought I was done.
And then tonight,
I talked to her.
I'm so not over her.
Love is still there.

I am truly lucky,
To have the mother I do.
I have one who accepts me,
And loves me,
Unconditionally,
No matter what.
I should be glad,
To have the mother that I do,
Because some kids my age,
They just want their mother to acknowledge them,
And say their name.
Thanks mom.
Thank you for loving me,
No matter how ******* up I may be.

You're so beautiful,
At everything you do,
Even the dark lies you tell,
They're pretty shades of blue.

The lies you tell are as dark as any,
But you make them so charming,
You make them sound okay,
No matter how truly alarming.

You are beautiful,
A beautiful liar, that is,
But I don't trust you anymore,
Not the words you say, nor his.

He is a liar too,
His lies are the darkest of them all,
Be careful not to trust him, darling,
He won't catch you when you fall.

If I was to tell you,
How I felt about you...
Would you be upset?
Would you turn and hide?
Would you treat me any different?
Or would you possibly,
Hopefully,
Impossibly,
Tell me you felt the same way,
About me.
You're the guy,
The mystery one,
That I talk about to my friends.
They act shocked,
That I actually like a guy.
I don't see you as a guy,
I just see you as a person I love.

He's one of my bestfriends,
And has been for years.
I love him to death,
He's like my brother.
Tonight I think I broke my brothers heart.
He said,
"*****, I'll cut you."
Jokingly,
A light-hearted conversation we had going there.
I responded with,
"Why would you cut me? Don't you think I do enough of that myself?"
After I had sent the message I wanted to take it back,
But I couldn't.
He sat there for 10 minutes without replying,
And then finally said,
"I thought you had stopped doing that..."
I had stopped,
For a while,
But I keep relapsing.
I tried to explain how I was trying to stop,
That it was just hard,
And these things took time.
He called me up,
And was crying.
He said,
"Please dont die."
I asked him what he was talking about.
I told him to calm down.
He responded with,
"How can I calm down,
At a moment like this?
How can I stop crying when my big sister,
A girl I love to death,
Hates herself to the point that she does that?
How can I stop when I know that every time you do that,
Theres a chance of you not waking up in the morning?
How can I calm down,
How can I not worry,
When you're the one who got me through that,
And I cant get you through it?"
By that point in the conversation,
I was crying so hard that I couldn't breathe.
And then he said,
"Please don't die.
I love you too much.
I'd miss you too much.
I'd go back,
To what you're doing now,
Or I would die too.
So please dont die."

What he said tonight opened my eyes.
Its a scary thought...
What I'm doing,
It doesn't just cause pain to me,
It causes pain to the ones I love,
And it risks losing all of them in the process.

Drip,
Drip,
Drip...
There it goes,
Another drop of life.

You're not gay,
You're not bi,
You're a ******* *****.
You think it will make you popular to kiss a girl,
And date one?
No.
It ***** with real gay relationships.
Quit your ****.
You're the same person who last year was like "eww" when you saw 2 lesbians in the hall.
Quit your ****!
Its ******* me off.

Depression,
Sadness; gloom; dejection.
Depression cannot particularly be described in words.
With depression you're suffering,
And suffocating.
Its like you're a fish,
In a bag,
With holes in it,
And all the water is slowly draining out,
Waiting for your life to go with the water out of the holes.
Its like you're in a cage,
On display.
You have to smile,
And put on a show,
But its all an act,
And you're dying inside.
Depression is also where you cant move.
You're laying in bed,
And you physically cant get up,
Because all your energy is going into breathing.
This is what depression is.

The nights of the bitter cold winter,
Leave me lying awake in pain.
But they dont come close to being able to compare,
The pain that you left me in my heart.

At one point,
I had gotten to day 23,
Another point day 35,
Then day 8,
And now I'm at day 3.
I'm counting back up,
And hoping to not be reset,
Not again.

Dyslexia...
You are a *****.
You are a curse that I wouldn't wish on anyone.

Why must you be the puppet master of letters,
Pick them up,
Move them around,
Make them dance,
And then drop them like an unwanted broken toy?

Why must you send a tornado ripping across the page?
When before you came the letters were perfect,
And organized,
Like they had been placed there by a child with OCD.
Then after you're done,
And you've made your destruction,
The page looks like a bowl of alphabet soup,
All jumbled up,
And almost a hopeless gesture,
To try to put them back together.

But dyslexia,
I fight against you.
I wont let you win,
And let you stop me,
From doing the things I love most.

My weapon of choice,
Tonight,
Is a pen,
So pardon me while I write.
Its not a blade,
Its not a light.
Its not smoke held from my lips,
Just words that are held before my sight.
You should be proud of me,
For what I didn't do tonight.
Because for once in my life,
I did what's right.

I have a friend named ED.
ED is one of those friends that stick around for a lifetime,
The back stabbing friend,
Who eventually kills you.
ED is my friend,
And he's a friend to many.
Hes a friend of your mind,
A friend of your stomach,
A friend of skinny,
And an enemy of food.
My friend ED,
He will be around for a lifetime.
However long that life is,
Depends on how strong ED becomes.

You see,
When you grow up in a place such as I have,
And you're a person like me,
You start to have a special kind of hatred for small towns.

In my town,
In the land of the brave,
And the home of the free,
Things are messed up.
Our motto should be-
Land of the cowards,
And the home of the free (if you're like us).
...They wouldn't even know how to spell you're correctly.

In my town,
Bibles are thrown,
Names are called,
Cars are keyed,
And people are beat...
All because they're different.

Its not necessarily the different that you would imagine.
If you're red headed,
Or anything but Christian,
If you're a yank,
Or a gay,
You're hated on.
I can promise you this.

At the red heads,
They accuse them of witch craft,
And being in line with the devil.
Some have even went so far,
As to burn down ones house.

If you're not a Christan,
Run as far away from this town as possible.
Its not the place for you.
On the road I live on,
There are 7 Southern Baptist churches,
JUST on my road.
Southern Baptist are a little crazy,
Run boy,
Run.

If you're a yank....
You'll be excluded,
And yelled at.
Everything bad that goes on in this **** town,
It will all be blamed on you.

If you're gay,
Oh lord forbid that you're gay.
Don't be gay in this town,
Just dont.
You wont survive.

As for me,
I am a red headed girl,
Who comes from out of town,
Who isn't a yank,
But is still treated like one.
I am a Christan,
But not as much as I need to be,
And I am not quite straight.

I dont like this small town of mine,
But its the place I call home.

I read our old messages,
And it sends my emotions spiraling down,
Into the depths of hell.
I miss you,
But you're a *****,
And a *****.
I swear,
Gay relationship are 20 times more complicated than straight ones,
Just saying.

One day,
I'll be old and crazy.
By then,
My body will have surely outlived my mind,
For petes sake,
Its half gone now.
But I'll still be writing.
Probably about how crazy the new technology is,
Or how many angry cats I must have had as a kid,
Because they left marks all over me.
Damnded cats.
At least by then,
My mind will be gone,
And I wont remember this time.
Ignorant and bliss.
Old and bat **** crazy.

Alcoholism,
They tell me it runs in my family.
That it kills every single one of us that it takes over,
That its our own curse and nightmare,
That its a silent death.
They tell me to stay away from it,
So that I dont become like Aunt Andy,
Who is an alcoholic,
With her life spiraling down the drain.
Or like Great Uncle Bill,
Who died before I was born,
Of liver cancer,
Because of alcohol.
They say that if I don't go near it,
Then I'll be fine.
What is it?
A rabid dog?
The smell of the poison,
It calls me in,
Like a Siren would a Sailor.
It puts me in a trance.
They tell me to never start,
To never go near it.
I'm already at its door.
They say its in our genes.
They've told me this for years.
I always figured that someone spilled beer on their jeans,
Apparently not.
Apparently we have what they call a "predisposition",
To the silent killer.
Why did they always call it the silent killer?
Drunks aren't silent at all.
My daddy warns me,
And begs me to stay away,
And to not get involved,
But there's already a burning want for it.
The burn as it trickles down your throat,
And then the buzz you get in the back of your head.
Maybe just one drink,
What will that hurt?
Thats how it always starts,
In my family at least.

Its an amazing thing,
Recovery is.
It's inspiring,
And strengthening,
But at the same time,
It tears you apart and you go through withdrawals.
But recovery is great,
Because it gets you away from the thing that's been hurting you.
Although,
The hardest,
And most terrible thing about recovery,
Is when you're not sure if you want to recover.

When I was younger,
I was told "Your teenage years will be the best years of your life."
Well then,
****.
Can I turn around?
And grow young,
Instead of grow old?

When I was younger,
I imagined my teen years as parties,
And sneaking out late to see the boy that my parents hated.
I imagined being the prettiest,
And most popular girl in the school.
I imagined everything but this.

As a teen,
If this is the best years that I'll get,
Then let me be done now.

Because as a teen,
There's drama,
And ***.
Drugs,
And suicide.

Nobody ever mentioned that...

Nobody ever told me that I might not grow up to be normal.
That instead of sneaking out to see the boy that my parents hated,
I would be sneaking out to see a girl,
That my parents had no clue about.
Nobody told me about these feelings I would have,
The feelings I hate more and more by the day.
Nobody ever told me that I'd get addicted to a thin piece of metal.

My teen years didn't turn out how I thought they'd be.

Instead of parties,
I stay at home,
Alone,
In my room,
Because I hate everyone.

Instead of being the prettiest,
And most popular girl in the school,
I'm the ugly,
Emo one,
That everyone hates.

Nobody ever told me my teen years would be filled with hate.
Hate about everything that makes me up.
They hate me because I'm fat,
Because I'm gay,
And frankly,
Because I'm smarter than them.

People just told me that my teen years would be the best I would ever live,
Well that's just great.

These are the things that I wish for you-
I wish that you will always find a friend to lead you from the darkness, and into the light.
That you will find the strength to hold on and overcome.
That you find a way to smile, even when things seem to be doomed.
I wish that you find love in the arms of someone who loves you even more than I do.
That you learn to love yourself,
That you will find your path to happiness.
I wish that you will figure out who you are, and who you want to be.
That you are confident in yourself.
That people learn to love you just as much as I do, because you deserve it.

I'm just a little bit tipsy,
Just a little,
To get you off my mind.
A few drinks wont hurt anything.
Oh no.
There you are again.
Lets try another.
OK,
I'm at my limit,
I've had enough.
I've drank my pain away,
And you went along with it.
But now the buzz is dying,
And you're coming back to life in my mind.
Lets try this again.
Just a few more drinks,
Whats it gonna hurt?

"Cause of death?"
They ask.
"Alcohol poison."

Slowly I changed,
Bit by bit,
I became what I really wanted to be.
Now that I'm what I want,
I need to be open with it,
And have crucial pride in myself.

I want you in my arms,
I want a kiss,
This New Years Eve,
Under the mistletoe,
With you.

How can I chase my dreams,
When I'm sit sitting on the couch,
In a doomed small town,
And I'm only 16?

If gay people are called fairies,
Can we start calling small, winged, magical creatures, gay?

When you look in the mirror,
What do you see?
You see you,
Correct?
Well I dont.
I see me,
But its uncomfortable.
And then my mom holds up a dress,
And tells me how pretty I would be in it...
When all I crave is blue jeans and a button up.
I dont want to wear a dress,
Or heels,
Or have my hair in perfect order.
I want my hair short,
To where I dont have to mess with it.
I dont want to be "pretty".
It makes me feel weird,
It doesn't feel like me.
I dont want to be a guy,
But I wonder what its like.
I would never use "feminine" as a word to describe me,
But I'm not a man,
And I'm not a "****".
I dont like the me that I see in the mirror.

Last night,
I dreamed of her.
When it started,
I panicked.
I always have nightmares,
And I didn't want to have a nightmare about her.
But this dream was not a nightmare,
It was beautiful,
And nice,
And it warmed my heart.
I had a dream of where she was mine.
We weren't the age we currently are though...
A prophesy,
Maybe,
Or just a delusional hope.

I have changed throughout the years,
Physically,
Mentally,
Spiritually,
And socially.
Day by day,
Only a little bit changed,
But if you look back over the years,
I'm not the same person.

I could hear the crunch of the gravel under my feet as I walked down the driveway to the bus,
As I do every morning.
But this morning didn't seem ordinary.
Every noise seemed magnified.
I felt dizzy,
And disoriented.
Things felt off.
I thought that maybe it was because I hadn't ate yet,
And I needed food,
But it wasn't.
I never eat in the morning,
My body's used to going without food.
It was still very dark out,
Dawn had not yet reached my town.
I looked up at the sky,
And the moon seemed so far away,
Like it was floating away from the Earth,
And whispering "goodbye" to those down below.
Then everything went dark,
I blacked out.
I don't remember what happened.
When the bus was approaching my stop,
I woke suddenly.
I had a split second to glance at the moon,
Before the bus halted to a stop,
The moon was there,
Back in its original place,
Where it always is,
And where it belongs.
A question remains in my mind...
Why did I black out?
And why was the moon so far away,
And then suddenly back?

My life is a joke.
I'm the person on stage,
Making a fool of myself,
And people are laughing,
And enjoying it.
The only problem is,
I'm not doing it on purpose.
I'm just that much of a fool,
A clutz,
That my life is a joke,
Meant for others entertainment.

Go ahead,
Call me gay,
You have fun with that.
Its not an insult to me.
Why should it be?
Its an obvious fact,
Yeah I'm happy,
And gay.
Wait...
Which gay were you talking about?
Oh yeah,
I'm that too.