The fact that one day I will die,
Saddens me.
I will have to say goodbye to the ones I love,
And jump into unknown,
Without option.
Imagine all the conversations,
And stories,
Shows,
And drama,
That will happen,
And I will miss,
After I'm gone.

Strong in the way that we use it
Simply means that we are broken
And not yet destroyed.

The threat of relapse is always on my mind,
Its a dream,
And a wish,
To go back to that "safeness" that I once felt.
I miss it,
But I push it to the back of my mind,
And struggle up the mountain,
Until I reach the top.

You stupid little girl,
You should have known.
You should have protected your heart.
You should have locked it up,
And threw away the key,
So no one could hurt you.
But,
You didn't.
You let him in.
You let him love you,
And hold you,
And then he left.
He tore your heart right out of your chest,
And left nothing but a shell.
Now you're sitting there,
Tired,
Betrayed,
Heart broken,
Lost,
And just plain broken inside.
So there,
Stupid little girl?...
Will you ever love again?

Suicide
Understaning. Don't think that people don't understand, because they do.
I** love you. People love you.
Care. Care about your life. It's important, I promise.
Inform. Inform other people of what you're going through. They cant help you if they dont know.
Don't think to fast. You only get one life. Don't end it with one bad thought.
Eventually everyone feels like you do. You're not alone.

Talking to you,
It makes me miss you more and more,
With every breath I breathe.
You take my heart,
Swirl it around and do your magic.
Its like I'm in a trance,
Like I've been swept under your spell.

I have replaced my liquor with hot herbal tea,
the lines on my skin with lines on the paper,
my razor blade with a pencil,
and this time I'm not using the sharp metal end as something destructive.

Cuando yo dije "te amo"
I meant it.
Cuando tu dijiste "te amo"
You didnt.
Odio que me mientan.

You are my love,
Mi corazón,
Mi vida.
The ruler of my world,
Mi reina.
Although our love is not typical,
Tu me dijeste te amo
And I believe you
because you are mine.
Mi chica.
And I, yours.
You say that one day,
voy a ser la desposada
But my dear,
you will be mine too.
*Casado bajo el ocaso.
Te Amo.
Siempre.

So many tears...
Crying so much that it almost becomes meaningless.
I cried more than I smiled.
I was so sad..
But things are better now.
Now I'm smiling more than crying.
The tears now mean more,
But my smile still means just as much.

I cant find her page and I cant find her pictures.
Im losing what the sight of what her face looked like.
Not only her did I lose,
But now Im losing memories.
Its getting harder to remember those little conversations we had.
I miss her.
Results of a teenage suicide.

Thanks for being there for me,
But I don't need you anymore.
Thank you for trying,
But I'm tired,
Wasted,
And done.
It means a lot to me that you try,
But I'm done.
I cant be saved,
Not anymore.
But know that you warmed a special place,
Within my stone cold heart.

"That's how it's always been"
They say
"It's biblical. That's how it's always been done and that's how it should be."

Excuse me?

According to you we must follow the bible?
Have you followed the bible? Uhh no.
The enlightenment was a long time ago.
Get with the program.

My birthday passed again
to you as if it were just another day.
An estranged lover forgotten.

If I could turn back time,
And tell the 10 year old me,
To ignore the cute girl with the sandy blonde hair,
If I had the chance to do the impossible,
Would I?

I look normal,
Like another average human,
Well as average as drama nerd can be.
But I'm not normal,
I just appear to be.
The things that make me different,
That set me apart from others,
They also make me a monster.
They make me a monster because I let them.
I let myself believe,
And then the demons consume me.

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?

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.

The night I kissed you for the first time you shoved my lips to yours like I was a drop of water and you were burning in hell, which is where I can imagine later you shall be. You were forceful, driven by your **** with all the blood in your bottom head instead of where it should be, your brain. Sometimes I wonder if you ever wonder what life would be like if that night wouldn't have happened. If you ever contemplate where you would be now if you would have listened to the words from my mouth repeat over and over that night you first kissed, "NO". I wonder if you ever think about the first time you kissed, the first time you went farther than you should have, the time you went past my boundries when my words of "no", my cries and screams, kicking and punching didnt seem to sink in that I wasnt enjoying myself and that I DIDN'T want to do THAT. Or I wonder if you sit there and contemplate the other girls, the ones who sit here just like me, perhaps writing poems about the guy who went too far when they were just a young a girl, the ones who took years before they would finally admit what happened, the ones who were in denial, the ones who blamed themselves forever thinking they were "asking for it". I wonder if you sit in your cell and think about the first night you kissed, us.

You cant go.
Please don't go.
I would die.
I would cease to exist,
Because I would follow you.
If you are to go,
Within a matter of weeks,
I would be gone too.
Because without you,
Why is it worth it?
You are so beautiful,
You're my world.
But my world needs to keep spinning.
When I hug you,
I put my head on your chest,
And I can feel your heartbeat.
Oh lord,
Please,
Never let the day come,
To where I cant no longer hear that song.
The song that your heart sings to me.

The day I first met you,
Is a day I will never forget.
I was 10 years old.
Even then I thought that you were beautiful.
I was the new girl.
The teacher told me to go sit down beside of a little girl,
With sandy blonde hair.
The teacher knew she was the only one who would be nice to me,
After all,
Who wanted to be friends with the new kid?
Apparently she did.
I got to know her,
And soon she became my best friend.
I made a promise to her that we would be friends forever,
No matter what.
We were friends for a little while after,
But then something changed.
That something was me.
We hit middle school,
And all of a sudden I was too good for her.
I ignored her,
And when she'd come my way,
I'd turn and walk in the opposite direction.
This I regret,
She did nothing to me,
And I treated her like garbage.
The girl,
The only girl in fact,
Who was nice to me then.
After middle school ended,
I had a change of person.
I left everyone,
And was homeschooled for a year.
I found myself that year.
I also found out that it was ok,
Ok to accept myself,
And be me.
I came back this school year,
5 years after we first met,
And something happened.
I fell in love with a girl,
For the very first time.
I tried to ignore,
And deny it,
Even though I already knew what I was.
She is in my English class,
I sit beside her,
And every day I feel that we get a little bit closer.
Nearly a month ago,
She told me that she liked me,
I told her I felt the same,
And then before I knew it,
We were dating.
She was my girlfriend.
My old bestfriend,
The one who as a child I thought was beautiful,
Is now my girlfriend.
She seems to love me,
I catch her every now and again just smiling at me,
I look up and smile back.
We hold hands,
And hug,
And say I love you...
But as teenage girls,
That's typical behavior.
I want to be out,
With my girlfriend,
And not be shamed.
She says she loves how I express myself....
How is that so,
When I cant even express how I love her?
I'm stuck,
Kissing and loving her,
In private.
But,
At least shes mine.
This is the story of how I fell in love with my bestfriend from 4th grade.
This is the story of my girl.
This is the story of us.

We seem to be on a constant drip of caffeine followed by sleep aids and pain meds for the world that never sleeps. We self-medicate constantly with sodas, chocolate and alcohol.

There's this girl I know,
With the prettiest hair,
Hair as white as snow.
Shes tall,
With green eyes,
She hasn't a clue at all.
She wears sleeves,
And when I ask her why,
She just turns, and leaves.
One day in the locker room,
I saw a hint of leg,
And my heart filled with doom.
Her leg was red,
Marked with pain,
Leading her to her death bed.
I ran up to her,
And gave her a hug,
She had to be safe, that I was sure.
She pushed me away,
Confused and scared.
And then I showed her something that put her confusion at bay.
I lifted up my pant,
And she said "Oh please stop, dont do that."
And I whispered "I cant."
"But you're so pretty,
I would love to be like you,
Its such a pity."
I looked at her with dumb struck eyes,
Was this girl blind?
She must be telling lies.
I told her to take her own advice,
And take a step back,
But she said her life was on the roll of a dice.
There's this girl I know,
With the kind and troubled heart,
She lives her life, as if she was in a show.
Its fake,
But shes alive,
And thats something I must take.
For if not,
I would die,
And cry, a lot.
So to this girl that I know,
With the green eyes,
And the hair as white as snow.
Take a step back,
And look at what you have,
Instead of what you lack.
Look at what you have,
You have a friend like me,
One who will be your other half.

We have clouds of lightning and thunder, who needs stars?

Those stretch marks are not tiger stripes.
Instead, they are the waves and ripples in the reflection of the ocean on the side of a boat.
They are proof,
of a death before birth.
Proof of a still born baby's water birth,
and how the pool of blood and fluid leftover from the trauma,
became salt water poisoned by tears.
The red lines are the way her eyes looked.
Blood shot and bruised from the previous blows.
They are proof that she lived.
That the ***** donor that does not deserve the title of father, lived.  
And that the baby girl is dead.
She never got to see her eyes open.
Do not romanticize those stretch marks,
saying that they are stripes that were earned.
They are nothing but scars of a horrifying event that she is reminded of every time she sees a baby,
and every time she looks at her body,
because she is no tiger.

As I wrote before,
"Pardon me while I write,
Because for once in my life I did whats right."
And "My weapon of choice is a pen."
This time,
Pardon me while I cry,
Because if I don't....
I wont do whats right.
I wont write.
I'll draw.

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."

I'm tired,
And weak.
There are bruises on me,
Ones that seem to come from no where.
I'm always achy,
And my head never seems to stop hurting.
I sleep more.
I eat less.
I'm tried,
And weak,
But more than any of that,
I'm scared.

You gave your heart and soul to me
You fought for me
You know me better than anyone else
And yet I still turned away.

He stood there waiting with nothing but an I love you and off I went...

Hurting you worse than I ever have before.

I am worth more than my *******
My body is worth more than your ***** desires
If you lust after me then prove your desires through a song, written words or simple communication
Do not send me your less than mediocre ungroomed extremitie in a snap
With the word "*******?" written on it
Take you and your salivating mouth elsewhere
If all you see me for is my *******.

Do you ever get the feeling while
you're riding down the road
To fly open the door like a child
To be smashed like a toad?

To the ******* a diet, temptation is a cupcake.
To the recovering alcoholic, temptation is a cold one.
To the gay girl trying not to be gay, temptation comes in the form of a red head with freckles.
To the red head with freckles, temptation is the girl with the Jesus tattoo and piercings.


I am no cupcake. I am the devil personified. Perhaps a demon in her eyes.
I am her temptation and its a nasty place to be.

I think I'd just rather be a cupcake.

April 14, 2008 was a Monday. My family had just moved into a new house, we were starting a new life, and I was starting a new school. I was 10 years old then. I thought that moving schools and leaving all my friends behind was the worst thing in the world, the worst thing that could ever happen. I didn't realize it then, but moving was the best thing that ever could have happened to me. At Mulberry Elementary, I was put into Mrs. Bell's fourth grade class. I remember the principal standing behind me with her hand on my shoulder as I tried not to make eye contact with all the faces who were staring at me. I was terrified. I think the teacher could tell how scared I was. She sat me beside of a blonde haired girl named  Katlyn. I was an over weight, ginger kid with glasses; and Mrs. Bell knew she was the only one who would be nice to me. That year, she was the only one who was nice to me. I remember thinking how weird this girl was with all the faces she made. I also remember being confused, because the way she made me feel inside, was something I had never felt. Soon enough we became best friends. We were inseparable. Throughout the years we have gone our separate ways, had a couple of fights, and even more kisses. It was always you I came back to in the end. They say that love is kind, and patient, and works in mysterious ways. And now there's one more Love to add to that.
One day in fourth grade, I took her hand and looked her in the eye. I about broke down as we promised to be best friends for forever and sealed it with a pinkie promise. Today, I married my best friend and sealed it with a kiss...and a pinkie promise.

Tonight is one of the nights that make me wish that I wouldn't have stopped.
I need it.
Tonight,
I need it.
I need its warm embrace.
I need to feel the cool metal as it goes across my skin,
And then the warm rush I get afterwards.
I need it,
And I cant do it.

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.

Everyone says I'm too pretty for him.
I don't care, since when have looks ever mattered to me? And he's not even ugly so take your opinion and shove it up your ***.
Thanks.

"Turning gay."
Oh how that term annoys me.
You cant just turn gay.
You're born that way,
Its the way you are.
You may realize it,
Or come to terms with it,
But you dont just wake up one day,
Out of the blue,
And say,
"Oh my gosh! I'm gay."
Because then it would be like a sickness.
Something that you can go get reversed.
Its not a sickness.
Its not something that can be changed,
With therapy,
Or meds.
You're born gay,
Or you're born straight.
Just like you were born with black skin,
White skin,
Brown skin,
Or whatever color skin you have.
You don't just turn to the other race,
Do you now?
You cant just turn to the sexuality.
You cant turn gay.

My heart rips into two pieces
For both of you
One side of my heart stands
A boy full of love for me
And kindness
On the other side stands
A boy full of passion
And desire
As if he was a siren
Eager to lure in the weakest
Beautiful prey.
My heart has ripped in two
Holding on merely by placement
And one side is about to fall
Into darkness
To be covered by dirt
Burried and forgotten.
Who is on the side to fall?

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.

Is it so hard to understand
Contemplate
Or begin to wrap your mind around the fact
That a person
Such as myself
Can be a christian
But gay.
Can be pro-marriage
But also pro-life.
Can want guns,
But also want to marry a girl.
My beliefs.
Don't tell me what I can and cannot believe
Or do
Simply because it doesn't fit into a mold
That you have stereotyped
For that group of people.

To you, my one and only unknown love, I bestow unto you my heart and burning desires.
I've dreamed of our wedding day, and much more to come.
But still with a blank slate, for you, my one and only unknown love.

But what if writing doesn't even help?

I feel like I've forgotten how to breathe. Like the wave is coming down on me and I've forgotten how to swim.

I haven't been myself.
I haven't bled in two months.
I haven't wrote in over a month.
I haven't exercised in three weeks.
I haven't picked up a book in two weeks.
I haven't had a panic attack in five days.
I haven't slept in three days.
I haven't cried in two days.
I haven't missed you in...

Am I stupid for believing we ever had a chance to last the long run and make a life for ourselves when at the end we couldn't even hold a conversation?

And if you choose to stay,
Mark my words:
"I AM LOVE; and my love will not stray."
My breath is like the wind; my lips are the sky.
Be careful where the words of lighting strikes,
Love will not die.