Do whatever makes you happy as long as it doesn't hurt others.

They Say,
Money is a matter of functions four,
A medium, a measure
A standard, a store.

I say,
It's a matter of hope, greed and despair,
It can make people fall in love and still be the reason for endless wars.

Money creates scars,
No matter how many pages you turn, it never gonna end, like the pages of a billionaire's memoir.

With money, you can get into a bar,
Can buy a car, may be a Landrover or Jaguar,
But who gonna heal that heart,
Whose tears can feel a reservoir.

With money, you can still have an affair,
With a starlet, if lucky may be a superstar,
But that innocent would never ever gonna come back to repair, your soul's scars.

I am afraid.
I am afraid because I am here
And I want to walk away
But instead I am right here.
I sit here.
Why
Do I sit here?
I think I'm doing it
Just to see how long I can.
It's like holding your fingers over a burning candle
To see how long you can stand the heat
Before your skin blisters
And you pull away, defeated.
I sit still.
I always sit still when it hurts.
I think stillness
Started a few years ago.
When I first hit the ground
I was afraid to breathe.
It was like I had been dropped from a high bridge onto a concrete sidewalk
Below
And I knew
Knew beyond any doubt
That things were broken.
Things inside were very very broken.
Things were splintered and punctured,
And if I moved, even to draw a breath,
I would bleed out right there.
I think that's when the stillness started.
And now whenever I am hurt
Whenever something hits me
I go still as stone
Except for shaking hands
That flutter, fragile and white, until I clasp them tight together.
The world moves around me
Under me
But I stay still as death
Not even daring to breathe
As if I will be found
As if I will tear apart into a million shreds of wasted paper
And drift to the floor.
I stay so still my muscles ache.
I never cry.
I can't cry.
I just sit there and feel how peculiar the sense of damage is.
How odd it is to be full of explosions and debris whipping around inside
An utterly motionless body.
And part of me, even as I feel
Just sick
With how much I know I'd die if my body betrayed my anguish in real injury
Part of me looks on from above,
From without,
With a detached analysis
Of this and that
Of just where I feel this blow
And this stabbing pain,
Of just how each moment changes me.
I freeze like ice outside
And burn like hell inside.
It is the most curious sensation in the world
And I hate it so much I would die to escape it.
And yet when it comes upon me
I do nothing
Nothing at all.
I say nothing.
I turn to stone, part by part,
My fingers
My elbows
My shoulders,
My legs
My stomach
My neck
Like I'm being submerged in drying cement
And finally my lungs
Stone
My jaw
Stone
My lips
My throat
The top of my head
Stone.
Until all that is left
Are my eyes
Just watching.
I am paralyzed
And I look out on a world in motion
Whirling, spinning.
Moments before I was a part of the rhythm like a heartbeat
But that was moments ago,
And we all know how much can change in just a moment.
When I am stone
You can come at me with a chisel
And I will say nothing.
Bang bang bang
And little chunks come off
A shard of my cheek
A finger at the joint
The swell of my collarbone,
They crumble when struck
But I can't move an inch.
I sit still.
I always sit still.
My stillness is the waiting.
It is the wish
To destroy.
It is the craving
Hot and metallic
To do something
To slice away how much I hate my own helplessness.
It is knowing that there is a relief
Besides just being saved.
There is a way to save myself
From this chaos inside
A way to feel better
Instantaneously.
My stillness is the resistance
The longing and the "No, I can't."
The firm denial
Cold as ice
Hard as granite.
Is it strong to let the world dismantle you by the inch
When you know you could get there first?
Is it strong to sit and take take take
And do nothing whatsoever?
Is a statue strong
Or is it just
Trapped?

“Yes, of course, I’ll do that for you.”

That’s how it started, that’s how it always starts. They wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I never gave them no as an answer, always yes, always how high, always please.

You know, I used to thank them for telling me what to do, that’s what they had me think I should be doing, thanking them for giving me something to do but hang around with druggies and alcoholics, thank them for making sure I stay on the right track.

I don’t remember when I started, but it felt good, it felt so good. The only thing about myself I knew was right, the only thing that looked right, felt right, how could it be wrong? I know people say it is…but it really isn’t, trust me.

Tire tracks, I think that’s what people call them anyway; I can’t remember the last time I really talked to someone else. I hid my wrists from them, they might tell me not to do it, and I’d have to thank them for taking away the last of myself.

They said it again, and I thanked them again. They’re right of course, they’re always right. There are those worthless, good for nothing idiots out there who’d rather cover themselves with god knows what than admit who they really are. I wasn’t allowed to hide it.

NO! WHY! They found out, they saw the marks on my wrists while I did their washing, I’ve got nothing sharp, nothing blunt, just this stupid length of rope in the basement, I wonder, would that do?

He was only a child, 15. We found him in your basement, swinging limp, lifeless. We found a note you know, yeah.

Dear YOU,
I know what you think of me, it’s what you made me think of myself. But I’ll tell you now, because it’s my last chance.
I’m not worthless,
I’m not pathetic,
I’m not ugly,
I’m not disgusting,
I’m not wrong,
And I’m no longer YOUR accident.

Sincerely
Him

i did one thing in front of a large group of people and now i'm somehow worthy

worthy of going to leadership retreats
and christening babies
all because i managed to crack open the wealth inside four other kids.

it wasn't me.
i didn't do it.
i just helped.
i don't want the credit.

The worse feeling is loving someone
And knowing we could never be together
That 1st kiss gave life to the loveless
Told you how I feel when I'm closed off
Shook my world upside down
You coming around may me feel worth while
I had it tough gave up on love
Learned to love myself before others
Once I put you 1st feels things are much worse
Everything seems meaningless
I think of you trying not to obsess
My heart and mind conflict with one another
I want you to be my girl I die inside the thought of you with other
I selected you left my heart unprotected
It hurts if I'm wrong everything seems so right

I want to do more with writing
Make money in my passions
I wanted to.be an mma fighter but injuries take time to heal
Coaching was fun but the politics an favortism got old
Years of giving my all coming up short
I asked what can I do to move up they gave advice to the guy next to me
Refuse to stay down and out
When others leave I move on better off with out
If you leave that's on you I'll be around
If not I hsve to live and pursue my life
I hate not knowing living in doubt
No regret but hard to forget

Thank you
For making
Once in a lifetime
Happen every day

And he broke
Because she didn't love him
The way
He loved her.

"I would have done anything for her"
He says in a raspy voice
His heart is torn
The girl played with it like a toy

He tried so hard.
To change into what she wanted him to be
He was so far gone.
He wasn't even happy