I am told that I should love my body,
and I should not be ashamed.
BUT the white, conservative men tell me otherwise, making me feel nothing but shame.

When did it become okay for a male's education to be more important than a woman's rights?

When did it become okay to sexualize a woman just because her shirt does not cover her rear end?

This is apparent in the things my teachers have told me.
"Your shirt must be fingertip length when wearing yoga pants," she said.
"Why?"
"Because the males that sit in the class might be too destracted to listen to my lecture."

We are treated like *** toys.
Us girls are used for nothing more than a mans pleasure, so they imply.

This is MY body, and no one else's.
I may do what I please,
and no one should have a problem with it.

I refuse to be sexualized and treated like we are living in the 1920s.
But I must conform and live in fear of my consequences.

**** culture is real,
and school's are promoting it.

Always boasting my emotions
On how I'm so ******* broken
Think I'm joking
When I'm talking
About blowing my head open
Till the moment you walk in
And find my body motionless
Wrists slit

Every Friday night we
hang out and make out.
We talk and listen to music,
and we know the night isn't getting younger.
When you're asleep at my house I always think about sneaking a cigarette,
but I know you can't stand the smell, so I don't.
I end up falling asleep.

Every Saturday morning I awake at your house
and sometimes mine.
You're always the first awake,
playing on your phone.
You lie next to me,
and I put my head on your chest.
I love the sound of your heartbeat.
We eat breakfast, get dressed, and go out sometimes.
By the end of the day, we end up at your house on Saturdays.
We fall asleep like we normally would, cuddling.

On Sunday we wake up,
the normal routine.
We always eat waffles or pancakes with your mom, dad, sometimes your brother and ALWAYS Gary.
We always go somewhere on Sundays,
whether it be New Orleans, the Mall, or the lakefront.
By the end of the day, we go to our separate homes,
and Monday comes.

When I wake up I’m afraid, somebody else might end up being me

Keep on dreaming, don’t stop breathing, fight those demons
Sell your soul, not your whole self
If they see it when you’re sleeping, make them leave it
And I can’t even see if it’s all there anymore so

You’re too mean, I don’t like you, ******* anyway
You make me wanna scream at the top of my lungs
It hurts but I won’t fight you
You **** anyway
You make me wanna die, right when I

Don't hate someone just because they hate you.

2. ALWAYS be the bigger person.

3. Don't quickly judge someone.

4. You may lose people, but you will gain ones who are better.

5. Everything changes at one point.

6. Try to see opinions from both sides.

7. There are two sides to every story.

8. Some people aren't going to like you, and that's okay.

9. Speak up in class, no one is going to laugh at you.

10. Don't be shy around the person you like, they're just a person as you are.

11. No one is going to die because you failed that one test.

12. School isn't just about grades.

13. Taking one day off of school won't **** you.

14. If you put negitive thoughts out in the universe, chances are, fate won't be on your side.

15. Don't push yourself to the point of a panic attack.

16. You will always love the person you fell in love with, and you need to learn to cope.

17. Just because you're posting about them, it doesn't mean they will message you.

18. Wear a dress to school, who cares if people judge you.

19. Look on the bright side of things in every situation.

20. Always be youself, and don't change for anyone.

WHEN I HEARD ABOUT HIM MY STOMACH DROPPED AND MY TEARS STARTED TO FLOW AND I CLENCHED MY STOMACH AND REALIZED THAT LAST YEAR THAT COULD'VE BEEN ME.

What is behind the stars in the dark night sky?
Please don't tell me nothing,
because nothing is something.

Oh, and what is deep beneath the ocean which we cannot see?
Are there mermaids or
maybe whole another universe?

Now tell me,
is happiness truly real or is it something spoken in fairytales?

I have an open mind.
I have a sense of magic that children have in themselves.

Just please tell me:
what happens when I die?

It always seemed light years away.
I never thought the day would come,
or I'd even make it here.
It's unbelievable as to what happens by the time you turn 16.

You make mistakes,
but you have the best time of your life.

Trying drugs,
getting drunk.

Things I never thought I'd do.

All I can really say is this,
I made it.

Through the good and the bad,
I've made it.

I look for you in
every song.

If Dexter Morgan was real,
maybe he'd **** the demons
that threaten to **** me.

I TRY TO COVER UP THE SADNESS WITH CONCERTS AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I RUN OUT OF CONCERTS TO GO TO?

The heavens
can only cry
for so
long.

Freshman year was
a time of change.
New school,
new faces,
new obsticles,
new feelings.

Freshman year was
6th hour math,
where I met you.

Freshman year was
a meeting,
a greeting,
a new start.

Sophomore year was
full of new feelings,
a new perspective.

Sophomore year was
a broken heart,
a disppointment.

Sophomore year was
experimentation,
a new feeling of love.

Sophomore year was
warm in your arms,
a safe haven with you.

Junior year is
scary,
a complete change.

Junior year is
mistakes made,
and loss of a loved one.

Junior year is
learning,
and forgiveness.

Junior year is
unsafe without you,
and a death sentence.

Senior year will be
terrifying,
choices that have to he made.

Senior year will be
breaking away from you,
taking the next step in our lives.



Our years together have and always will be
the best years
of my life.

Step 1: Think about the one you miss. Maybe look at a few old pictures or letters they have written to you. Take out the clothes you've taken from them. Look at the ring that they gave to you. This starts the process.

Step 2: Try to message them, then once you try to press send, delete it.

Step 3: Remember them. Remember their smell. Remember their touch. Remember their voice. Remember their love towards you. Remember the little things about them.

Step 4: Think about how happy they are without you. Remind yourself that they don't need or want you anymore.

Step 5: If you're not dead by this step, try to erase any memory of them. Burn their pictures. Erase their contact. Block them. Unfollow them. Delete them from your life.

"Now you're lost
Lost in the heat of it all
Girl you know you're lost
Lost in the thrill of it all
Miami, Amsterdam
Tokyo, Spain, lost
Los Angeles, India
Lost on a train, lost"

I swore
you were an
engravement on my heart.

I loved you from
a distance,
short of a stop.

You left,
without a
note left in my
pocket.

I have torn
ideas of what we
were and what
have always been.

A flower
that will never
bloom again.

Your touches
are burns on my skin.

A sting that will
not fade.


You were an engravement
that was never on my
heart,
only a memory
on my
skin.

Do you remember that night?
Not that night,
but the night where everything was
simple,
peaceful.

We layed on the trampoline,
it was around 30 degrees outside.

I was cuddled into your side,
your body is always warm.

We stared at the stars.
I can't tell you for how long,
but it felt infinate,
neverending.

Jupiter peaked through an abundance of trees,
you pointed and asked
what planet that was.

I told you of my favorite constellation
and showed you.

Do you remember my favorite
constellation?

More importantly,
do you even remember that night?

i hope everyone knows
it's not because of them,
it has everything to do with
me.

My mother hides things from me,
a lot of things,
but I can't be mad, I guess.

I do it, too.

I swear I will not
overthink
you
this time.

I will not act
on my feelings,
only because I
care about
one of my best friends.

We have not
stopped
talking.

Constantly
back
and
forth.

I think you could
be good for me,
but we will never
know because
I care about
her
too much.

The moon in the dusk looked at me and whispered everything will be okay.
She told me that time goes on and she will always come back up to comfort me during night.
She looks over me and makes sure I'm well.
She gives me light in my dark mind,
and brightens the dark sky.
"When you're feeling down, come and find me," she said with a grin.
And I replied, "I'll be back again."

Was I scared?
--Well, when she was coughing her lungs out and had to run to the sink to spit in order to breathe again, I kind of got scared. And when I took a hit and the smoke filled my lungs, pulled the bowl out, breathed in more smoke, held it in, finally let it out and passed it to my uncles girlfriend, I was scared; yes. I could feel my lungs blackening and my chest burning, eyes watering, and nothing but coughing. I just remember thinking "it's Christmas. Why am I doing this? It's Christmas." But that didn't stop me from grabbing the **** again. Eyedrops were a life saver, so was my uncle's water. With my knees trembling and my heart racing I got in the car and headed back. My cousin made a joke claiming it to only be funny when we were high, then apologized for it being so stupid. We drove back to the house -- yes we had a designated driver, and stumbled out of the car and went back into my Nanny's house like nothing had happened. Talking to my family was not the easiest, but no one suspected a thing. Eyes droopy, room turning in circles, cotton mouth, slow speech, all things that happened while trying to keep cool.

I guess you could say I had a high and mighty Christmas this year.

She's the love of my life.
From the top of her head,
to the bottoms of her feet.

She's the love of my life,
but not in the way you would think.

She's the love of my life.
She's the light of my day,
and the dark of my night.

She's the love of my life.
She's the water of the tide
and the stars in the sky.

She's the love of my life.
That won't ever change.
I love her with all of my head,
and she knows that.

he gave me a look that set
a fire in my heart.
he turned the lights off,
and my heart raced faster.
closer
and
closer he scooted,
but did nothing.
why didnt he kiss me?

It was NOT necessary for those ignorant ******* to protest today.
There was NO need for those graphic signs and mean words.
There were ******* CHILDREN seeing those signs.

People need to get their heads out of their ******* ***** and realize what women do does NOT ******* effect them.
They "****" a ******* FETUS.
A fetus who CAN'T feel anything
because their nerves haven't developed yet.
A fetus is just a bunch of CELLS.

I hate the ignorant part of the human race who think they have ******* control over others.
Get your head out of your ******* *** and realize you are a piece of trash.

I'm tired,
and she's beautiful.

I've started to not care about school.
Copying homework left and right.
Cheating on tests
every
****
time.

And I can't bring myself to care.

At the ATL concert Monday night I got to thinking. Every little thing at a concert that happens, the wait, the actual concert, and the memories, they save people, make them happy. I remember the wait for Warped, that’s when my depression was really bad and I was planning to **** myself, knowing that I was going to be there, in that crowd made me want to keep living. After the Sleeping with Sirens concert, I didn’t cut months after that concert. And the complete feeling of euphoria of actually being there in front of the people who were there for you when no one else was. It makes you think, “oh I actually am happy, it isn’t the pills,” or “wow, maybe there is another way I can actually make myself feel better besides cut.” Just knowing how much you mean to the members, you can just tell in their voices how much they care; how comfortable they are with you, how serious they can get, how they carry on each and every single song. Concerts, bands save lives, so if you say they don’t, you have no idea what it feels like to have nothing to live for except music. Music has saved my life, and I have no way to repay those that have made the music, played the shows, and cared for me. There is no way I can repay them for them giving me my life back. Thank you to all of the bands that have done so, thank you.

its funny because no one knows
the *truth.

You're nothing.

2. The piece of my heart you stole has been regenerated.

3. You cease to exist.

4. You didn't make an impact on me.

5. I never loved you.

6. You were the part of me that I despised.

7. Now that you're gone, I'm swimming in self-love.

It takes energy to love,
and energy cannot be created nor destroyed.
Does it mean that my love for you has always been and always will be?

Are we dating? Are we *******?
Are we best friends? Are we something in between that?
I wish we never ******, and I mean that

"I need love!" I scream from the top of my lungs,
but he never hears me.
"I want you!" I whisper right behind his back,
but he doesn't turn around.
"Can I get to know you?" I question him as he turns the corner,
not even looking for who was talking.
"You're killing me!" I cry as he listens to the teacher lectures.
"Do you even know who I am?" I mumble as I realize he doesn't even know my name.
"I don't even know you." I say under my breath as he leans to his friend.
"Why am I doing this to myself?" I think as the bell rings and he leaves my view.

It's 8:00pm
and Carlos picks me up.
Full bottles of ***** litering his
floorboards.
Hartwell in the passenger seat,
I sit behind him.
Leila in the middle
and Will on the far left.
Will is already drunk

It's 9:00pm
and I walk into Dylan's house.
Loud music blaring from his speakers.
My bag on the ground,
the ***** and beer on the table.
I mix the drinks because Leila doesn't know how.

It's 10:00pm
and every one is here.
Will and I sit together.
He is so drunk, and I am named the babysitter.
I make small talk while sipping the horrible jungle juice Leila ****** up.
My jungle juice was better.
I hand Robbie a 10.
He buys more Mountain Dew to mix more.

It's 11:00pm
and I get a call from Joseph.
"Is it weird if I stop by?"
I utter no and ask Mr. Ed for the address.
I run inside to tell Leila.
She hands me a shot of fireball.
I threw it back like a pro.
Luke hands me the jungle juice.
I chug.

It's 11:15pm
and Joseph calls
"I'm outside."
I walk by Will to act normal.
"I want ******* hookers and blow."
He's ****** up.
He looks up behind me,
and I turn around.
Joseph towers over me,
and without thinking I throw my hands around him.
I'm choking back tears.

It's 11:30pm
and I drunkenly drag Joseph outside.
He knows I want to talk.
No words,
only tears.
I cry into his arms for what seems like forever.
He promises to never leave me again.

It's 11:50
and Dylan yells for every one to go outside.
The countdown begins.

It's 11:59
and we wait.
5..
4..
3..
2..
1..
"HAPPY NEW YEAR."
Carlos is the first to hug me.
Will passes out on a car.

It's 12:03am
and I try to wake Will up.
He finally comes to it.
He somewhat runs inside for more alcohol.
I hastily follow.

It's 12:10am
and Carlos is pouring shots of ***** for the 3
of us.
We drink.
Carlos runs to the sink.
I get him water.
Every one comes back inside.

It's 12:15am
and Carlos hands me champagne
which he refused to give to anyone else.
I drink.

It's 12:30am
and Joseph has to leave.
I beg him not to.
He says he'll see me Saturday.

It's past 1:00am
and Will is in sick in the bathroom.
I take care of him.
Leila comes in
and makes herself puke because she drank too much.
Will cries because he doesn't like seeing his sister like that.
I hold him.

It's past 2:00am
and Carlos is the first one out.
We find spots to sleep.
I'm sandwiched between a snoring Carlos
and a different Joseph on the sofa.
Will is at the bottom.
Hartwell sleeps on the floor.

It's past 3:00am
and every one is alseep.
I lie awake thinking how good it is
to start 2016 this way.

Raw emotion fills his lungs,
screaming the stories of lost lovers
and tragic lives.
Talking along with the beat,
the guitar playing to the pitch of his voice.
I listen while his heart pours out
over
and
over.
And the best thing,
the emotion can never leave.

Elegant her mind was,
the beauties of
death,
blood,
sadness.

Elegant her skin was,
scarred,
tarnished.

Elegant her thoughts were,
pills,
blade,
noose,
drown.

Elegant she was,
or every one thought she was.

Her real elegance didn't show through her every day life,
only to those who wanted to hear,
and those that wanted to hear were
the demons.

Her elegance, in the end
is what destroyed her,
leaving the truth behind,
she wasn't so elegant after all.

You're gone,
and I'm not sure how to cope.

I can't cut,
nor can I drink the pain away.

I just sit here trying to erase what is left of you.

i do not regret it
i do not feel ****** about it
and i would do it again in a
*heartbeat.

Two years later, and I'm back where I started.

My thoughts took me down the stairs,
it was fuzzy as can be.
Everything was blurry,
I could not see.
Found my way into the kitchen,
took a pill.
I thought maybe I could take several more,
hoping during the night they would ****.

The fuzziness subsided,
and I lay in my bed.
I did not go downstairs,
and I sure wasn't dead.

It was all just a daydream,
a dream never to come true.
A dream different than any others,
and it sure won't shoo.
They are scary as hell,
not that I mind.
It's weird,
I like them I find.

I sat here and wrote
10 different
******* poems
on being 17

All I can say is

I should have not
grown up so ****
f a s t .

And maybe that's where
you and I
went wrong

You refused to
grow up
as I kept maturing
and started realizing how
****** up we were

I grew up and realized
I can't live in the
shadow of you
making sure every ****
move I make
would be approved by you

I grew up and realized
the jealousy was only tearing
us a part because
you didn't want me
but you didn't want
anyone else to have me

I grew up and realized
I deserve so much more than
what you were giving me
and what you were giving me
was never genuine and true

I grew up and realized
I'm now 17
my life as a
teenager will soon be over
and I have to grow the **** up

I grew up and realized
you will not be around after high
school
we will be old best friends

I grew up and realized
it's over
and you are now nothing
but a mistake.

Love isn't real,
and I'm not trying to
be poetic
and compare it to
the "love" I
supposedly felt for
you.
Love is made up,
an idea.
There is no
fully
loving someone.
I am saying this
to remind myself.
Love is not real.
It's not poetic.
It's not sad.
It's not real.
You must understand
to love,
right?
You must know
to love,
right?
Understanding
and
knowing someone
fully
is not possible.
Love is not real.
Just a reminder.

You yelled,
threw things around.

Hit,
scratched,
punched.

I didn't lay a finger on you,
but you layed all ten on me.

That morning,
I counted.
13 bruises,
15 scratches.

We all have our scratches and bruises,
but at the hand of a loved one?

Even after that,
you're still perfect to me.

I don't care anymore,
or maybe it's that I care way too much.
If I didn't care I wouldn't get so angry over meaningless things.
           --and by meaningless…I mean meaningful things.
Why is it that I say I don't care?
           --when in actuality I care a lot.
           --I care about that girl,
             and the girl,
             and the other girl.

But who is it I want the most to care about?

That's a funny question, because I don't care about any of them.
            --But wait, I care.
No I don't I care about nothing.
            --I care about too many things.

If it is that I care about nothing,
nothing is something.
And sometimes something is everything…..Right?

If I cared I would't constantly say, "I don't care."
         --Yes I would.


















I do care.

Tonight my love is unsafe,
I'm left with doubts and mistakes,
Collapsing into the bottle of you.
If I could rewind and go back,
I'd destroy the place that we first me at.
And I just might.

You've finally showed me
what love is.

And I will run until
I find my peace

I could
seriously love you.