I'm not okay... But it's okay

Because when I put that blunt to my lips I'm okay

And when I put that blade to my wrist I'm okay

What do you like doing on weekends Mahdiya?

Well, I find nauseating pleasure spending time loving people who were created to never love back.

Words unspoken
Her heart is broken
Stubborn to quit  
Her love for him was far too great
She couldn't admit

I don't want to be someone who's easy to let go of. I don't wanna be the lesson that everybody learns after they leave; i don't want to be the reason why they shouldn't have done their mistakes because, i know, there will always be someone they could treat fragilely. There will always be someone they could treat better - the way they didn't with me.  

I want to be the one who they could treat better. I want to be the correct one after every lesson and mistake.
But sadly - or thankfully, i'm not.
And now, people go run their lives to live them correctly, to pursue their loved ones because they know what they did was wrong; they learned a lesson.
And that is, sadly, because of me.
And i, god forbid, will always be the tutorial;
i will always be the lesson;
and i, will always be the perfect mistake.

I lay down in my own pool of blood. I wish it came from a blade, or seventy.
No, it came from not being an impregnated teen. When we had the spring scare, I imagined you staying and raising a baby boy.

My mind plays so many tricks on me. Who knows if he really did form or if it was my imagination?
Real life frustrates me, burdened by who this world wants me to be. Well, I'm me.

Wishing for a lullaby to sing me to sleep.
Poor restless me continues to seek for sunken ships and burned down apple trees.
We rush to the hospital to foresee a new life forming, but forget to indeed leave a kiss for those who used to bandage our worst scraped knees.
I'm held down by the routine of being 16, when in reality I'm surpassing my own peers in front of me. I wave goodbye, but they just stand and stare.

Labels define me as I just try to gain understanding, isn't that just quite obscene?

The air is polluted, and we climb the tip top of the mountain until our ears pop.
So this is what it feels like? To breathe in freshness when its already been passed through our ancestors?

Do you see me or do you see her?
She looks like me,
She moves like me,
Speaks like me,
But she is not me.
I hate her so much,
Hate the life she can touch.
She is the darkness,
Can I make a wish to make her go,
Day to day I must work to tell her no.
She is the old man and I am the new,
Living in the Light of God,that is the glue,
To keep centered,really centered on You.
This is not easy,for it is hard,
Speaking this to you, being the Bard.
Heart to heart to let you know,
you my friend are not alone.
We are all broken with two sides,
forever taken in the bye and bye,
I work on the one with the glimmer of Light,
And waiting for the other one to lose their might.