To my mother, to my brother, to my sister..
To the ones that made my life a living hell, those who made have nightmares when I wasn't asleep..
To the 'best friends' the ones that back stabbed me, and told that they'll never leave me alone..
To the teachers who never cared, never noticed and never liked me..
To the bullies that pointed at me, pushed me down the hallway, spilled soda on my hair, threw my books in the mud, called me a freak, *****, ****, ******, loner, fat, ***** ; and a lot more..
To this country I had the misfortune to be born here..
To my school, that made my life miserable, made me want to **** myself everyday..
To the doctor that forbid my parents to abort me, when they wanted to..
To society that made me feel like I'm never good enough, a waste of space, made me hate myself to a point I'd despise me....
GOODBYE!!
I am ending my life, and I am leaving this world!
I can not take anymore of this! Enough is enough!
I do not expect you to mourn over my death, or even shed tears for me!
Do not fool youselves!
You never noticed, you never cared, you never wanted to and you never tried!
It's too late now!
Goodbye..

A cut on a lonely day
a cut to feel okay..

A cut to not feel sad,
a cut to not forget..

A cut to not break down,
a cut to let it out..

A cut to feel strong,
a cut and I'm almost gone...

Dear dad,
if you are listening, I want you to know that I'm fine,
mom is doing good, and everyone's alright.
A few kids hit me with their words, but I'll be okay,
you know how I am, I always find a way..

I smile all the time, but dad I feel so sad,
I wish that you'd be here, wish you weren't dead..
These ten years have been a mess, and I often lose myself,
I've been feeling so alone, and nobody's been my friend.

Other than that father, I swear I'm okay,
I cry a lot at night, but I'll figure out a way..

I hope you're doing well, I hope you're doing good
I miss you so much, and I'd hug you if I could!!

I love you dad!

he sits in the corner
of his deserted mind
where not even he
wants to keep
himself company.
the smell of
broken dreams
pang the air.
he feels tired.
he feels wasted.
but most of all
he feels
        




                                                            ­           alone.





and all he wanted
was a sign
from someone
from anyone
just to know
that he wasn't
the only one
who felt this way.

(side - a)
I am me:

Gentle in nature,

Soft spoken just as I am,

Patient with consequence,

Enthusiastic when it comes to specific romantics.


You are you:

A Catalyst, that I cannot resist –

So I will not resist the change you bring in me.

Like flipping a cassette tape over, so that the other side gets a chance to breathe, to sing out, to play.

--
(side - b )
With You, I Am ME:

Gentle only because I'd probably suffocate you if I held on tighter,

Soft spoken isn't enough to express my love,
I'd much rather yell it out to the world,

Impatient when it comes to waiting,

For specific romantics that makes me enthusiastic.



You are You: A force that brings out things I am not.

How many seconds in a minute?
Sixty, and no more in it.

How many minutes in an hour?
Sixty for sun and shower.

How many hours in a day?
Twenty-four for work and play.

How many days in a week?
Seven both to hear and speak.

How many weeks in a month?
Four, as the swift moon runn'th.

How many months in a year?
Twelve the almanack makes clear.

How many years in an age?
One hundred says the sage.

How many ages in time?
No one knows the rhyme.

short is the most delicious look
silence is the loudest book
with lips the hungriest food
and night the darkest wildest mood
breathing is the deepest ****
giving in the hottest ****
love is a bittersweet borrowed lie
time is a slowly emptied sigh
deception is the sharpest yet rustiest lance
and rage the slowest, saddest dance
while truth's just polished-up confusion
with words - the slipperiest illusion








- - - - -

a punch for a ****** day, a cut to open  the vein, a pill to feel okay;
two punches to get over, two cuts blood flowing like a river, two pills you shake and quiver;
three punches what's one more, three cuts a puddle on the floor, three pills so you can feel clean and pure;
one last punch to feel good enough, one last cut till your mission is complete, one last pill and you're finally asleep...

I am...
The tunnel in the vision

I am...
The ink drying in the pen

I am...
The thought when you made your decision

I am...
The last time that you spent

I am...
The master of illusion

I am...
The hunger that you crave

I am...
The past time of delusion

I am...
The tomorrow that left yesterday

I am...
What once was but never will be

I am...
The point that has not been seen

I am...
The cost when you wish you were free

I am...
The Mystery