It is easy
Just to give up
Just to stay in bed
Why bother

This can be anyone
A friend, a teacher, a bully
Someone from home
A sibling, a father, a mother

This could be you
It is easy to want to cry
Hide away
Just disappear

But you are told no
Be strong
This is your burden
It is yours to bear

Just going trough life
Going trough the motions
Wear your mask
Wear your smile

Will the feeling last
How long
Will it go away
Or is it staying awhile

Am I stuck
Trapped in this cage
Going around in a rut  
No way out

No one will hear me
No one will listen
No matter what
Even if I yell and shout

Everyone feels like this
But we only know the me
It is only how I feel
No one knows how I feel

But everyone have these feelings
Everyone thinks this way
But we built this wall
This is real

You can't come in
The wall is up
You don't know
Just to give up on everything

This is the life we are given
The life we live
This is the story that is written
The song we sing

Save me,
Save me from the agony,
agony of missing you.
Because you were cherished in my heart,
deeply rooted  into my veins like vines grasping for life,
like my blood was your soil.
And you were able to grow and live of the happiness of life.
So why mask away your fears and tears,
from someone who would have gaven there last drop of blood,
last essence of life,
to keep you happy.
Why suicide Shane,
instead of me.

whenever I try to write poetry, I have a tendency to make things more minuscule than they really are.

I don't let my true colors show in fear that someone may notice how I really am feeling.

Because I like to convince myself that I'm fine. I convince myself that I'm better than I was two years ago.

And maybe I am. Maybe this is as happy as I'm going to get. That is, if happiness means having anxiety attacks at parties or crying over the small flaws of my day.


Happiness might also be letting people use me and reject me. If that's what happiness is, then I'm over the moon.

Face the facts. I'm talking to you. And me. And everyone in between.

Broken.

Notice I didn't say "I'm broken." Or "you're broken." Or "we're broken."

That's because it's for you to decide. You have to be true to yourself.

Broken.

She Layed Her Head On His Chest
And Her Thoughts Wondered Why
His Heart Screams Out So Silently.

Why. It's Always Banging On His Chest. But No One Seems To Answer.

And He Replied: It's Been Trapped In This Sad Body Since The Beginning Of My Existence.
It Wants To Escape. But No One Seems To Set Free Into The Light.

It Finally Gave Up.
Made Friends With The Darkness.
Shared Ancient Stories.
Shared Emotions With The Razor.

And The Razor Understood All Its
Problems.
The Razor Then Smiled At The Sad Wrist.
And After A While, It Said.
Look, You're Smiling Too. :)