You told me you'd never leave  but situations change, obligations change, priorities change. People change. I am unchanging and that's why I'm suffering. The place that I'm standing has had many visitors. I am a land mark and you were one inspired tourist but you're a tourist for a reason. Many people are interested for a moment but they find better sites to see as if I'll be on display forever. And maybe that says something about the way I live my life, but that says something about everyone. We are different. Changing and unchanging.  Long lasting but never permanent.

Do you know the meaning of "stop and frisk"?
I'm sorry black brother, you do.
Have you ever had to change your voice in order to get a job?
I'm sorry black sister, you have.
Have you ever had to remove your hijab because you needed to take a flight?
I'm sorry brown girl, you have.
Has anyone ever insisted you have extensive knowledge on every school subject?
I'm sorry yellow friend, someone has.
Have you ever been told to go back to your country, despite the fact that you're already there?
I'm sorry red man, you have.
Have you ever been called and illegal immigrant, but you were born in the u.s?
I'm sorry Latino friend, you have.
Have you ever been told that racism doesn't exist and, by someone with pale skin?
I know I have.

So this is to the ones who have been told that they "aren't black enough" because they use proper grammar and their pants don't sag.
The brown boys with beards that get called "towel heads"
To the Asian kids that are just as smart as the next guy.
To the native Americans that still get called Indians.
To the brown girls that get told that they don't have to wear their scarves because "we're in America"

Nostalgia whispers softly into my ear
What a *******.
Thinking it can just control me with my own false memories ?

Dear, nostalgia
    Did you want me to beg?
Did you want me to plead?
   For those memories
That aren't even real.

I remember him loving me.
I remember being touched.
I remember looking into his eyes .
I remember feeling like I was enough.

These are false memories
They aren't really.
Please nostalgia give me a break.
These are things I do not wish to feel.

I'm am  very contradictory

I Am a beautiful disaster
I am gasless smoke
I am an ice fire
I am lovingly hateful
I am aggressively playful

I am kknowledgeable confusion.
..it's best at its worst

Death waits for me like the morning frost on my window.
My days start to feel shorter and more pointless.
Morbid things cross my mind.
There are no cliffs, tall buildings or bridges where I live.
Only ropes, razor blades, and guns.
I have decisions to make.
Find purpose in my life?
Go on breathing without living?
Or die do to my not so insane insanity.

Love settles in the back of my head and chest, but if love was a thought it was a feeling in the time of sadness which is all the time of course, sadness does not exist without reality and reality be nothing without despair. The balance of life is not black in white, yin or yen,  or happiness and sadness it is sadness and less sadness because sadness with always cover everyones head with the veil of death because death, is inevitable and death brings sadness therefor sadness is inevitable.

Death lines the corners of my mouth waiting to be inhaled as i smoke my first and maybe last cigarette maybe last because I can die at any moment.

I have got a question.
How do you tell someone you love them.
And not mean a single word of it?

How is that even possible.
If I did that.
I'd have burning hate for myself.
Because right then.
You just injected poison into someone's heart.



But the real question is.
Why.

Is it too hard for you to face me?
And tell me  that you in fact do not have passion in your heart devoted to me?
Because it would have spared me the scars and ****** wrists?

What can you expect?
Poetry comes from the heart.
And the heart is vulnerable.

We live in a world of lost souls and unfulfilled dreams.
Poetry just helps us stay here physically
Because we cant always be here mentally, emotionally,or spiritually.
Poetry is the reason i'm still alive.

Poem: you are the sunlight that seeps into the ballroom that I call life. Because with out you life would be dark and hazardous, and I wouldn't be able to see the beauty of the room its self. So stay a while, because I need you like sunlight needs something to shine on.

YOU HAVE A LIMITED
AMOUNT OF HEART BEATS
WHEN YOU FALL IN LOVE
YOUR HEART SKIPS A BEAT
SO, THAT MEANS
EVERY TIME I FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU
ALL OVER AGAIN , YOU ARE SAVING ME
YOU MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE
ALL THE TIME
NOT ONLY WITH YOU
BUT WITH THE SKY
THE FLOWERS
THE AIR
YOUR EYES
I FELL IN *LOVE *
WITH THE FACT
THAT YOU'RE *MINE
SO THANK YOU
*FOR SAVING ME

I think of suicide
I think of committing suicide
I don't know if I would commit suicide
But I sure want to try

Now, folks
This is not a question of whether or not I will.
It's a question of why I want to
I'm not sure why though.
Maybe it's the worthlessness if feel in the pit of my stomach every time I look in the mirror.
Maybe it's that I feel trapped all the time..even in open spaces.
Maybe I feel alone when everyone's around.
Maybe, just maybe I'm tired of feeling like this...maybe I'm over it.

I welcome death as one would welcome the morning sun.
Sadness fills my heart where joy once took its place.
Life is for dying and dying alone.
Living is a punishment in its entirety .

Streams flow from my eyes
The road of loneliness twist and turns down my spine
Wrists like oak trees with carved memories of loved ones souls
Fingertips as delicate and cold as an alabaster snowflake
Wind chills my body; it feels the way it felt when I lost my soul
Now I lie empty and cold wondering the amount of time it would take to build a new one
…A heart that is… it fell and broke like the glass that it is
When you tore my soul from underneath me
Like a terrible way to impress a love interest at a dinner
I’m scarred
The memory of the day you told me that your are not mentally physically and emotionally devoted to my whole being
As I am to you

That is a poem in itself, i'm just done with life.

I had trouble breathing.
I forgot about you.
I was fine.
I remember you.
Then I died.

I still want to rip my skin apart
because I miss you
but you don't miss me
and I want you
but I'm not good enough
I'm not of any importance
in your life
So why are you important to me?

Here I am, writing about depression as if no one knows what it feels like to love the rush of living after almost drowning, but also fear it

Another "depression is" poem
Another "I'm getting bad again"
Another "I've cried myself to sleep seven times, this week"

But I have to admit, I will always miss my sleeping pill apologies and my blank stares into the mirror when my depression is gone

just one cut but it wont count
two shots to keep my lunch down
a couple pills and i hope i drown

proficiency is key
it is knowing that while we
merely live one lonely life
it should at least be lived with glee
so to say that you must leave
is to say that you must breathe
without the heavy burden
that society begs and pleads
for you to stay in place for it
and conform to its deadly needs
you must take the longer road
if you are willing to succeed

A:Just speak and you shall be heard.
  
B:My dear it is not a simple trial. To be heard you must have faith and I,  my dear am the most faithless of them all. To be heard you have to be brave and I,  my dear  am not as brave as I was when I was just a new soul.

A:Well my love how do you expect to be heard if you don't have a voice?

B:Honestly my dear I lost that when I was screaming out my love for life maybe that's why I hate it so much.

Time passes by so fast

That i can't catch my breath

      And i know i shouldn't ask to be saved

               But I can barely breathe

       And the world is asking me to run
        faster.

okay so think of yourself as a separate being. detached from the earth and its functions.

every speck of dust has its own meaning

i think about the world in ways that are too hard for even me to understand. every small speck of dust came from somewhere. The earth was created by the  pure desire of the celestial beings in outer space. They thought of us, so we were. And i may not believe in god but i do believe the world was meant to be here. I believe everything has an equal or opposite reaction and i believe we have a purpose. Not a purpose or a duty to the world or the universe but a duty to yourself. i think everyones one true duty is to find absolute happiness before the end of their days or die trying.

the atmosphere is filled with invisible beings and even every one of those has a meaning.
i came across this video the other night and this beautiful human was speaking about how we as humans are too scared of vulnerability. I think she is so right. we are living our lives day by day by day and we keep everything in for ourselves because we fear rejection and we feel like a burden to everyone we speak to and that is not how it should be. i thin we should go back to days where human emotion meant something to everyone. when it was valued. right now we are all so ******* in what everyone thinks of our tears that we forget to let them out. and tears a corrosive they will destroy you from the inside out if you don’t let them go in time and i just think its so vital to be in touch with yourself to remember to not destroy you r mind. we need to take care of ourselves. and i can see that, even as a person who doesn't take care of herself i know that there is value in us as people.

we live in a world of people who can do so much to change the world and make it a better place but we are so hell bent on keeping everything for ourselves that we are doing more damage.  
somehow i want to be someone to unite people for the better and eliminate all of the harmful forces in the world. it seems unrealistic but i am not looking for realistic i am looking for optimistic

If you take a moment
to turn off all of the sounds of the world
you can still hear her footsteps.
she walks like poetry.
she has a different meaning to everyone.
and whether its good or bad
she will make you feel something.

I think love and music are very alike.
When you first heard your favorite song
You fell in love with it, you played it over and over again.
Love is the same way.
You fall in love and it's great but then someone gets tired because it's all the same and then you search for a different melody.

You change the station.
..You find a new lover.

As i lay these flowers
On my death bed
I go over the lines
I have not yet read
Heaven or hell
Is where I shall go
And these last few days
Many do not know
I've been planning death
my death has been planned
My light will soon  fade
As blood drip down my hand
I'm sorry to say
That I must leave
Do not beg
And  please do not plead
For my return
Because we all know
Today is the day
That I must go.

do you know what it feels like to have all of the love leave your body?
it a slow numbing sensation in your chest. all of your memories of anything good or worth living for start to fade.
its a defense mechanism.
it releases its self from you grip when there is a risk of losing it forever
it finds shelter
preserves it's self for your better days
if there are any left.

It seems to me i have no place to be. Walking these wood why don't I just leave?Why should I turn back if that's not my home?
Desire and abandonment is what I call my throne.
Flowers, birds, butterflies, and more if I go back I'll only want more.
To be free is what I truly need.
And if home isn't my place then where can I be?
I'll live In the woods and build my own home.
Cherish the forest where for now on I shall roam.

When I told you I love you it was not an ok to destroy me.
Love is not a synonym for "please **** me " it is uncoded it is pure and unhidden.
When I told you I love you I didn't mean I wanted to burn.
Because being with you only brought me hell.
When I told you I love you I simply meant that you are everything I think about when im daydreaming
You were  the reason I woke up in the morning
You were the reason my life had meaning.
But not anymore
You are the reason I can't get out of bed
You are what I think of in nightmares
You are the reason my life seems so  meaningless.

Depression is when you cry but you don't know why you're crying.
Depression is feeling like everything is going well only one minute of the day, and the rest of the day makes you feel like dying.
Depression is weakness in your body from forgetting to eat.
Depression is loud music to drown out your thoughts.
Depression is fear of not being able to get up in the morning.
Depression is fear of actually waking up and knowing you have to go on.
Depression is fear of losing everyone and everything you love.
Depression is breaking down whenever you are alone with your thoughts because you try your best to not let anyone see the darkness that you've got inside of you because for all you know it could be contagious and you wouldn't wish it upon your worst enemy.

And suddenly I remembered that you hugged me while I was wearing this sweater and I instantly wanted to rip it off if my body and throw it into dante's inferno in hopes that the memory of you would burn with it. I'm not sure why the thought of you is so painful but it might have to do with the fact that loving you was such a waste of time

Its not that Im ashamed of being sad or depressed its just that I dont want to be a burden or a disappointment, and I dont want my parents to think its their fault.

So tell me dear, is it okay with you if I worry about you?
Do I have your consent to cry over you at 4 am in fear of losing you?
Do you mind if I let my anxiety boil in my veins just because I'm a little paranoid that you don't love me?
Do I have your permission to skeptisize our relationship?
Am I right?

did you hear them? did you hear what they said?
they said that you were gods gift to the world. that your words could break glass and shatter any feelings of numbness. they told me that you had tones like sedatives. addictive and the whole nine yards. you. you know just how to make someone stick around long enough to wonder what the world has In store.
because
your words
they are
beautiful
so brimming with hope for a better mind
that you have the power to turn the darkest of skies into a glimmering array of celestial bodies
and quite frankly I like to take the time out of my day just to admire such divinity
so thank you for being Devine

Well maybe it's just anxiety that makes me so terrified of death.. Like whenever I think about how someone was once living and is no longer alive and how they take a bit of everyone to their grave with them. And how it's so sudden and so quiet at times and others are planed and loud or loud and sudden or quiet and planed and how sometimes those are the most painful because you were prepared for and explosion but all you get is a lit candle.  Maybe I'm just scared of the uncertainty that comes with death like is there a god? Will I meet her? Is she as kind as everyone says? Or is she just as human as all of us? But maybe there's nothing, maybe it all goes black maybe you stay here and watch your own body decompose?maybe you don't? Maybe you live on with the stars and you become the sun of someone else's solar system, warming more hearts than you ever did when you were human... And what if you die twice like some people say. When your bodies dies and when the memory of you dies.  Or three times. When the person you love ceases to love you.Which is worse?

If I
Spoke my mind
I'd probably
Just end up
Talking
To myself
Because
No one
Wants to hear
My thoughts.
They are vicious.
They are cruel.

This is not to say that i don't still look at peoples wrists or that i finally know why i'm here
its not to say that i like that you have scars on your wrists but that i find comfort in knowing that you won't judge me because you understand what it feels like to be attacked by your thoughts and have them wreak havoc on parts of you that only come out when the moon does and how sometimes you lie to your friends because you know they care but you tell yourself they don't
because it makes you feel better without feeling too good
in the sense that you know sadness is an addictive trait and you know better than to let it consume you but you let it anyway because it makes you feel more human
and this is to say i know that you wont judge me when i say even after all the warmth i still prefer the rain over the sunlight.

I FOR ONE CANNOT CONFRONT PEOPLE
BECAUSE I'M SCARED
I CANNOT DEFEND MYSELF
WITHOUT SHAKING TO THE CORE
I CANNOT TELL PEOPLE THAT WHAT THEY DID TO ME IS WRONG
BECAUSE I..AM.. anxious
ANXIETY RUNS THROUGH MY SOUL AND MY VEINS ALL AT ONCE
BUT " YOU AREN'T YOUR DISORDER ".CORRECT?
OH, BUT I AM BECAUSE
I AM ANXIOUS
THEREFORE I AM  ANXIETY

I ALSO CANNOT PROTECT MYSELF BECAUSE " I " MIGHT HURT SOMEONE
AND " I" MIGHT BE AT FAULT
BECAUSE PROTECTING MYSELF WOULD MEAN SOMETHING/SOMEONE IS ATTACKING ME  
AND THAT OF COURSE, IS MY FAULT

THE THING ABOUT ANXIETY IS, WHEN SOMETHING IS ATTACKING YOU, YOU ATTACK YOURSELF
BECAUSE YOU TRY TO FIGHT ANXIETY BUT
ANXIETY IS YOU
                          -a.a.e

It's been 57 days since I sliced through my skin.
That's 8 weeks rounded down.
That's 1,368 hours.
That's 82,080 minutes
That's 4,924,800 ******* seconds that I'm just yearning to throw away for the peace of mind that I will never get by bringing a cold thin piece of metal to my already scarred skin...and I can't see a good reason not to.
I guess I'm not ok.
I guess I've broken, and I'm irreparable.
What. A. Surprise.

two minutes until 4 a.m
i have the strong urge to find a razor blade
i also want to cry about everything and nothing
i have a meeting with depression at 4. am every morning
im never late and i never take a raincheck
you could say i'm a devoted client
or that i'm addicted either way im still sad...

sometimes we meet during the day when i'm deep in my thoughts it stops by just to check if i'm ok and if i am it makes sure to fix that

depression recommends that i find a gun and put it to my head
it says "its for the best" ..."it will make people happy "
and i swear to god that is all i want
..to make people happy
and my existence isn't doing that

the
urge
to
inflict
pain
on
myself
is
unbearable

Maybe just a scratch
Maybe just a cut
Maybe just a ****
Wow,ok, that's a lot of blood
Tears burn my eyes
The blood continues to flow
Maybe write a letter
How about a note
Death starts to linger
Mr.grim wears his coat
Maybe say I love you
It's totally not your fault
I was just a burden
The clipping of your wings
I'm no longer a burden
I've gained my own wings
Now I'm in heaven
Or as you call it hell
Heaven is a lie
I wish I was there to tell

I think I want to end it.
But I dont.
Its very confusing when you don't know whether you want to live or die.
Some people want control.
I just want meaning.
If you give me meaning or a reason to live, and maybe a hug or two maybe i'd be ok.
And its crazy how something so simple could save my life but no one is willing to give it to me.
That shows how much i'm needed here.
I know I shouldn't want anyone to save me because superheroes don't exist but i was taught to use my imagination but that led me to be misguided and now for some reason i expect reality to be a fantasy and my fantasy to be a reality.

so...

life?
or death?

Both seem nice to me, i don't know which i should choose.
For now i'll just die slowly with no recognition of the rest of the world.

cant you see?
i'm unsatisfied
with my existance

i dont know why
but i breathe
meaninglessly
aimlessly

i am a zombie

My brain might be drowning in alcohol and thoughts but I sure as hell can say even though you left you haven't left my mind. And I drank this whole bottle of ***** to try and wash you out but all it did was magnify how much I miss you. Ive tried just about everything but you're still in my head and I'm not in your arms.

there is so much tar in my life
I’ve been trying to fill myself with crystals
but all I’m getting is volcanic rock
slowly melting my every good intention
i remember when i told you  
that id die if i every treated anyone
the way you treated me
maybe thats why I’m dead inside
i treated myself the way you treated me
i lied to myself
i pretended to love what I’ve become
i pretended to not want someone else
and where has that gotten me?
nowhere
nowhere at all

The leaves turn from green to red as your face turns from pale to amber in two seconds
my hands go to greet yours as if to say " its ok the danger is gone"
the earthquakes in your palms seem to be the cause of the continental drift
but even though the land under our feet have rapidly parted i still find it hard to not fight  your battles for you
remind you that your loss of a friend to suicide does not represent a decrease in your value

Raindrops hit my neck
In places you once kissed
The feeling of you still resonates through my bones.
Why can I still feel your touch, if you left a month ago.
I don't think you know what you did to me.
I'm not sure you're aware that at 4 am
I shake and shake and shake in withdrawal because I know you'll never touch me again.
My panics happen about twice a day now.  Because I blame myself for losing you.
You brought back the urge to encounter death.
Yet I Still love you.
No wonder you left, I'm an addict, a pain addict.
And you were my main supply.

We tend to forget that there were once trees when we lay our heads to sleep.