Does anyone know we are all buried?
I am.
I have been screaming for days.
Can no one hear me?
I am the girl buried
beneath the one posing
to be
me.
Can't you hear my screams?
They must be silenced
by the the laughter she feigns.
Can't you see my nightly tears?
Or has she, once again, buried them
behind smiles?
DIG DEEPER!
And you will find me.
The buried me.
Or do the dirt and bugs disgust you?
Do you prefer the pristine greenery
on the surface?
Well, that  "beauty" is
suffocating me.

i can't handle this ****
falling atop my head,
because i'm starting to believe the lies.
it has been said, no,
reassured
too many times
with the same false sincerity
smeared across their faces.
it seems they are masking
a lie or a secret.
do they think i'm too
fragile?
they try to comfort me.
constantly.
they try not to point it out,
but the more they say
"it's okay."
the more i know:
my life is not okay.

i am a gun
waiting to be triggered
shooting bullets of my words
into the air.
when i empty my clip,
i breath deep into my lungs to reload.
i am the problem
and the solution.
i am a contradiction
of bittersweet revenge.
i am fought over
and fought with,
i am danger in the wrong hands
safety in the right.
i am a childish toy
without retribution,
a lethal instrument
playing the most sorrowful of music
i change from day to stay
never the same.
so tell me this:
are you feeling lucky?