"Tyranny, like Hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."

"And even mercy, where conquest is the object, is only a trick of war..."

I could feel every single color
known to man and I could
hear even the slightest creak
in the floor that night.
Even with Pink Floyd
blaring in the background,
I could still feel every bone
inside of me vibrate and the
walls began to move and it
was euphoric, the way air
blowing across your face felt
like a storm raging across
your dark room. Your touch
felt even more electric and I
couldn't tell if I was calm or
excited or just completely in
love with you.

I think you were getting
annoyed with me, but I can't
really remember. I just remember
colors and laughing and wanting
to reach for the stars more than
I already do. I just remember not
wanting anything more than that
moment, because the feelings I
felt were perfect and the sight I
held of you was perfect and
everything was absolutely
perfect.

Waiting for that special person
To come and save you,
Is that how this
Works?

Oh sweetheart,
If I've realized anything it is that
nobody can save you but
Yourself.

Do not rely on the
Eyes that give you lies
And say they love you.

Do not rely on the
Lips that touch you in
All the wrong places.

Do not rely on the
Person you thought would
Love you forever dear.

Save yourself before it is too late
Because the end is near.

every time I shower, they watch me.
they watch me as I scrub away my mistakes
and whatever I did the night before
also, the marks
and the bruises
and maybe even, no, defintley, the blood that
trails down my body.
they smirk and laugh
as I attempt to cry.
but they know that there are no tears left
inside of my lifeless body anymore.
they speak soothing letters.
almost like soft purrs of k's, i's, l's, m's, and b's.
weird combination,
I know.
but that's what they say.
they spit their foul letters at me as they spell out
words across my naked body,
saying the same **** things
over and over and over and over
again.
they know me like I know the numbers now.
they watch the trail of blood and
they kindly accept the inevitable:
I will probably die in front of them one day.
the same place that has become my hope,
my love, my fear, my ecstasy.
the faces mock me.
but the thing is,
they don't even know that they're the ones who are
stuck in the marble, not me.
I can get out at any time.
I can walk out,
dry off,
and fall into a bright day
and a quiet night.
they can't walk away.
they can't hide.
they can't change.
but me?
well...I'd say I'm ever-growing, ever-changing,
into the one I'm supposed to be.
the one I'm meant to be.
the faces can smirk and laugh all they want,
but I'm not the one who is stuck anymore.

I leaned my bike up against the gate and
Sighed.
Leaning against the window was the girl
thee girl
The girl with her usual
Frappe in hand
And book in the other.
Her flowing red hair
And glasses
With bright pearls brimming and
Shining against her pink lips.
Her face
Fair and clean
Rosy cheeks and
A smile.
Her clothes
Grey beanie
Flowy top
Jeans and
Combat boots.
Rings and
Jewelry galore
And
Even some tattoos.
shes perfect
I think to myself as I
Picked my bike back up and
Started riding away.

She described me as Tom Buchanan.
She immediately said that I wasn't violent like him,
but that I could easily be him...
I could easily show his side.
I could be brutish and abusive
and dishonest and an adulterer
and greedy and pretentious.
I could be all of those things so easily.
It's as if a switch goes off in my brain that says,
"Hey, let's be an ******* today."
I don't want to be.
I don't want to be seen as Tom Buchanan.
I don't want to be the man who hurts so many
and truly loves so few.
I want to be so much more than that.
I don't necessarily want to be like Daisy or Jordan or Myrtle or Nick or
even like Gatsby himself.
I want to be like myself.
I want to be the girl that I'm meant to be
and I know that I am not right now
nor have I been for quite some time.
I just want to be the woman God made me to be and
I'm tired of being such a catastrophe in the making and
for ruining and hurting those around me.
I don't want to be that girl.
I don't want to be like Tom Buchanan.
I want to be me...
The real me.

*...who am I?

4 days ago
Thoughts of death
Raced through my mind.

3 days ago
I seemed to be better,
Smiling and all.

2 days ago
I rocked my head
Back and forth
To beautiful music.

1 day ago
I cried as I
Remembered that I'll never be
Enough.

And today
I'm just running on
Empty.

she asked me
"what is so
horrible
in your teenage life
that you feel the need
to **** yourself?"
to be honest,
i'm not even sure
anymore.

the list kept growing and
i got tired of keeping score.

Seeing those bands last night
Reminded me of
All the sweet things to
Live for.
Like all the sweet times I would've missed:
Cuddling with you
Failing at tickling you
Playing with your hair
Making you smile,
Laugh,
Cry.
Seeing you grow up
And traveling.
I wouldn't have the chance to
Maybe one day
Share a beautiful
Life with you
If I was dead.

I'm glad I
Didn't go through with
All the things that
I was thinking of.
I like seeing you
Living,
Breathing
And knowing that I
Mean something to you.

she used to be okay.
always a smile on her face and
she talked with a sweet voice,
which is something i don't want to under state,
and she never really cared that she was
40 pounds overweight.

but now as she lays on the beach
and no boys and no girls look her way
she feels invisible, even while she dreams of
being able to tell her parents that she
might be gay.

her parents talk about her figure
and how she'll never compare to how her
sister looked when she was her age.
thin, toned legs and a stomach with abs.
after all, who wants to date a girl
with flabs?

she has a blog dedicated to the thin girls
who make her feel so bad,
it makes her feel less,
it makes her feel sad.

if only she counted calories and
if only she could fit in that size two,
maybe she's be the perfect daughter that
her parents wish they knew.

but even as she drinks a sprite and
takes all her bites in spite she knows that
if she was skinny then
everything would be alright.

all she needs a push and a pro ana friend and
maybe she can be the perfect daughter
again. She can't like girls and she
must skip dinner, by the end of the year her
bones and boyfriend will
show that she is a winner.

-r.a.

I became so fixated on the idea of my future rather than enjoying the beautiful life in front of me.*I forgot how to live in the present.

"How can you love someone who hurt you so much?"

it was easier to
look into your
eyes today.

you helped me
with my math
and you looked
me in the eyes
but now i see
the real you and
you'd think i'd
despise the
way you judge
people so easily
and the way you
looked at her
when she came in;
it was like she was
the worst thing
that could happen
in your day.

yet somehow, i
stayed calm and
made you calm
down because
you bring out the
best in me and yet
i still love you no
matter how many
flaws you have.

does your fiancé do the
same?

Today I am
Going to a therapist.
Excited?
I think I might be.
Scared?
I'm not sure.

But I know I want to go.

Well,
I went to her.
I layed down on the sofa and
She took me in immediately.
I told her my problems and
She listened.
Best part was:
She never told me I was wrong.

I'll be seeing you again,
Finally.
I've missed our talks and
How I can tell you things.
I'm glad I'll
Finally be seeing you
Again.

Thank you for
Listening to me the whole hour.
We need more than an hour you said,
You think we should have
Two,
Even three.
I smiled at that thought,
It'd be nice.
You said that you do think I might be
Lesbian and that you
Accept me no matter what.
You told me you get it,
That you understand.
Man,
It's nice to not
Want death so much
In that one room
With you.

i cried in therapy today
while telling her that i
hate that nothing bad has
happened to him yet--
He still has his phone and
his life while i'm caged up
Like some animal and
cant have anybody i love or
care about with me
anymore.

I just feel
there
Not like I exist
But like I'm just...
there.

yesterday i asked him for his favorite quote.
i wanted to make him something close to
his heart, something he could cherish and
love. something that he could fill up,
not only with the drink of his choice but with
his wisdom. knowing his lips will touch the rims
of my gift will be the closest i will ever get to the
full lips that brings my spirits higher than life itself.

he asked for another day to be able to think of a quote,
and i of course let him have it. after all, he has given me
all the days ahead of me. he deserved that much.
when i passed him in the hallway, he held out a paper and said,
"are you ready for it?" and i smiled, rushing down the hallway saying,
"yes yes thank you!" and i ran to the classroom to get my bag but then
i looked down to his messy handwriting that i find extremely adorable.
on the paper he wrote,"No one is born hating another person because
of the color of his skin, background, or religion. People must learn hate,
and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes
more naturally to the human heart than its opposite."

It was said by Nelson Mandela.
I smiled because I thought of how just yesterday I decided that
that same quote was my favorite as well.
I guess we do really have much in common.

I told him that I really loved this quote and I even thanked him.

How does one tell the man she loves that her human heart is feeling so much love for him?

Reading The Truth About Forever on
the beach today.
I noticed that maybe nobody even
looked my way.

I thought back to the book and about what
it all meant and about the end.
I thought back to the characters mom
and to how she hated her daughters friend.

The book is a lot like my life
I can't have my best friend
and it's because my mom judges before she
reads till the very end.

you have me shaking..
my tongue is unable to form
a single coherent word
without slipping and saying
how much I am starting to
abhor the way you can
talk while I am expected to
be silent and all
alone.

she told me that
     my parents are ignorant *******.
that I deserved better.
    that I needed support.

it's true. I do.
because maybe if I knew who
     I was then this
hell wouldn't be so bad

because I'd be able to have
       *You.

They know....
they know
I'm done.
Finished.
My family is ruined with the image of their
Little girl being touched.
Why'd you tell?
Why?

They'll be look into my
Journal
To see if I've ver had suicide as an
Option.

Well,
It is.

(T)hank me for what I do between
(H)er thighs, because
(I) know that she can seem
(G)rumpy one minute and
(H)ella **** the next. This is
(S)urely because of me.

I have realized that
zoning out for me isn't
my brain asking for a break.
it is my brain yearning to
talk about the things I don't
and to say the things
I do not say.

you cant exactly see my
scars.
theyre thin white lines
across my wrist.
barely even visible.
but, the tanner i become
the more visible they
are.

they are the stories of my
desperation.
the lies i listened to.
the thoughts inside of
my head.
the fear
the hate
the love
they are my heart
ripped open over and
over again till more and
more blood pours.

these thin white lines
are me even when i
dont want them to be.

i wish i could give him
a close up.

You feel the need to
Make me feel okay.
Why?
I'm nothing.

We chose to act this way.
like children playing a game or
like two lovers who cant be.
we chose to ignore each other
and pretend to not know
each others secrets.
why did i let you in?
Itd be so much easier
for the both of us if
i were dead.

I'm not enough.
I'm not her,
To be honest,
I'm *nobody Important.

Those three men
Scared beyond belief.
Scared of what they see at night
Seeing the monsters
Hiding under their sheets.

Those three men
Not sure of who they are.
They skip meals and
Throw up
Heaving fires.

Those three men
Cut and slice their skin
Open wide.
They do it because
Society is making them
Hide.

Those three men
Can never really be.
For what they are
Is really we.

Those three men
Make us up all of us.
Together as a whole,
We are them and
They are we.

If our love couldn't stay, then what makes you think that your lust for him ever possibly could?

She likes you too
So?
I see her (sometimes) as a threat
Rach, you're mine. Only mine
She is great, but what if I lost?
Shes not you
I always lose
Im yours, you won
The war is already done
What war, There is no competition, Rach
I can't lose, please don't leave me
I won't
I've already lost
*Rach...

No one chooses to be sad
Except for the attention seekers.
I didn't become sad for fun
My doctor even said I might have a form of depression.
It's like you're running up these stairs that never end or
You're trapped in a box and someone says they're trying to help you but
They keep the ladder a secret.
You can't just 'decide' to be happy
Or sad.
The only reason I saw the light was because
Of certain people.
And if you still think that
Sadness is something you just 'decide' to do
Then try to remember how I was in the beginning of the year:
I was happy,
I ran for president,
I had a boyfriend.
i felt so important

All of that is gone.

Who would want to get rid of that?
Not me.

But I'm getting better,
And everything will get better.

I
wish to
be
Invisible.

i went to the mall and
i walked past the men's department.
i saw ties and
button down shirts and
nice dress pants;
they reminded me of you.
i shed a tear as i
grabbed the one that looked
exactly like the one i
bought you for
Christmas.
dark blue and
a nice pattern.
i saw the tag and
laughed as i realized i bought it
thirty dollars cheaper.
nice deal.

as i sit here
on my bed
crying over you like some
lunatic
i ask myself:
will things ever get
better?

I want to travel all
Over the Universe.
You'd come with me in my
TARDIS
And we could eat fish and custard
Together.
We could be free and
Help aliens and
See what the
End would look like.
We could travel in time and
Space and understand
What else is out there.
We could travel forever
And regenerate if we must.
I just hope every time I do I
Don't lose my love for you.

You talked about her like
She was your favorite song.
But you cried when she left and
stopped singing along.

But with him you're content,
Even happy I guess.
But I wanted to be the one who
Gave you the best.

I'm not her,
I'm not him.
I'm me,
And I'm hanging on a whim.

I have that spot
Reserved you must say
You try to make me feel special,
To make me feel okay.

And sure,
That may last awhile
Not for long though,
But I surely can fake a smile.

When I'm alone at home,
I cry hot tears,
I lash out on my skin
Because of my invisible fears.

I bet someday,
When I'm thinking of you
I'll do it again
And cut right on cue.

my first kiss was in a skating rink
with an older boy I barely knew
and my inexperienced tongue
being used to learn a new language.
his kiss made me realize that I might not
be all that straight.
I wasn't ready yet.

my second kiss was in a bathroom at school
my freshman year.
she looked at me as I nervously tried to
kiss her. I wanted it to be perfect, but
I wasn't sure how to do it correctly,
so she stopped me and guided me.
I fell in love with her then.

my third kiss was full of lust.
she and I were both sad for different reasons
and we couldn't stop ourselves.
I was too depressed to care and
God only knows what she wanted to
stop thinking about.
"terrible timing," she said.
I agreed.

my fourth kiss was a boy in a game.
his hands touched all over and I thought
I enjoyed it.
I was wrong.

my fifth kiss was with a girl whom I had been
waiting to kiss for several years.
I snuck her into my house and we talked till
everything went silent and
I knew it was finally time for our
lips to meet.
her lips were soft, and I never properly
thanked her for that kiss.
I was happy.

my sixth kiss was with a boy who stole my heart.
It was on accident, of course.
Not the kiss though, that was completely on purpose.
We technically had two first kisses, I suppose.
The first was in his house and we had
gone upstairs to look at his collection of movies
and then he said something dorky and I said,
"Oh shut up!" And he said, "Make me."
So I did, and I looked at him and I slowly made my
way towards his lips and when our lips met
I had felt something that I had never felt before.
Our second first kiss was in the rain on
the lakefront later that day and
I can't even begin to describe how
kissing him felt in that moment.
It was absolutely beautiful.
He was beautiful.
I was beautiful.
I just wish he'd give me my heart back now,
I miss him and
I am in pain.

To all the people I've kissed before,
I am so sorry.

doing all of that with you made me realize what i want more than anything in this world right now: to be *alone

Making this poem
For "proclaiming my 'love' "
Isn't going to work anymore.

Because now I understand
Why we could never be and
Now my heart is really sore.

I keep trying to know why
And keep trying to go
But something is just holding me back.

Maybe it's my heart
Telling me "no" and that
You are someone I shouldn't lack.

But if you're so special then
Why did you go?
Just for the fun of it all?

Do you get joy
Out of a girl like me?
Did you like watching her fall?

Maybe I'm wrong or
Maybe I'm not, but really,
Why should I even care?

Maybe it's because when
I look at you, my heart explodes
And it's something I can't even bear.

you promised*
And so did I.
We both broke it
Though
And I'm so sorry
That I lied.

and I am completely yours, my God.

hot tears roll down my cheeks
as I try to scrub away the cells
that have known your toxic touch
and the cells that have felt your soft kiss
because I can't take it anymore
I simply cannot take this feeling
I've been touched by too many and
I just can't take it anymore.
I do not ever want to be touched again,
not by him nor her nor anyone else on this
godforsaken planet...
not even myself.