I used to wish I had a reason to feel so sad.
Maybe a death in the family or a traumatic injury, morbid as it sounds.
A reason to feel scared, and lost, and all at once a child begging for someone else to takeover for a while.
Crying in the bath is such a cliche but when you're underwater no one can ask what's wrong and be disappointed by the answer.
I don’t have a good enough reason to be sad, I’m only 23 and have an entire life to live but I feel like this is gonna be it, and every week is another long week and every day drags like it will never end.
I feel like I should talk to someone but I’m not sad enough, or I’m not rich enough, or I’m not desperate enough.
People say life finds a way and that it will all sort itself out, but right now in this bath it’s just me and my fears so life can wait a while.

come back,
that's all i request

why'd you
have to go


i hate being in love
with someone i
can't have

Perfection is a characteristic
That is force fed to us
A characteristic we must
Die trying to achieve
But why?

No human before me
Has been perfect
Why do they expect
It to start from me?

if i shiver
it's not from the brisk wind
if i twitch
its not from withdrawals
if i flinch
it's not from an abusive step parent
if i stutter
it's not from gynophobia
if i blush
it's not cause i was standing in the sun

so what if I'm a little tired
so what if I'm a little stressed
every day I keep on pushing through
or at least I try my best

okay maybe I don't eat enough
and it's kinda bad for my health
but technically
that doesn't mean
that I need professional help

because I'm ok
it may not seem like it
but I'm ok
I'm not a little kid

I don't need you to kiss my hurt
& try to make it go away
everyone knows that doesn't work
at least… not for me anyway...

Crack your rib cage open,
Peel back the bones.
Release the creature
Inside your chest,
Let it out to roam.

Let it create the chaos
That's hiding under your skin,
Simmering in your blood,
Filling up your lungs,
Drowning you from within.

She sat alone.
Alone and at home.
Where her screams were silent,
But her mind was violent.
Her insecurities hid deep inside.
And they indeed, ate her alive.
A tear rolled down her face
As her heart began to race.
She took her blade and tore her skin,
Where her depression lied deep within.
This went on for days,
Months,
Years,
And until she cried her very last tears.
She decided she had enough,
The world around her was much too tough.
She took a gun to her head.
Congratulations society,
She is dead.