Does riding home
Without a seatbelt
(Left unbuckled on purpose)
Count as a suicide attempt?

Asking for a friend
Who lost control of the wheel

That feeling
That I can't describe

When I know someone is genuine

It's physical
And emotional
It's happy
But calmly
Without any flourishes
Or bubbles
I feel it in my chest
A feeling of connection
It's...warm?
Not quite the right word
It's lukewarm
But bright
And roundish
Kinda like a sphere
Sitting next to my heart
Centered in my chest
There's love
But little magic
It's pure
Unfiltered
Connection
When I think of someone's face
I see open eyes
Open to watch another
But not wide with shock
I see a small smile
I hear a voice
Clear as a bell
And indeed
I think of pure
Golden bells
Not twinkling
Not ringing
Just a single
Unbroken note
I think of gold
Or is it orange?
Yellow?
Orange with a yellow halo?
It's energy
But not radiant
Not growing
Not destroying
Not dark
The feeling I get
When reading a classmate's essay
Or reading a good fanfiction

All this
Does not capture the feeling
But at least I tried my best

Screams echo madly.

To my silly little dream.

Falling teeth and eating phones.

I put the snooze on a hold.

Betraying all my friends tonight.

This dream will never be alive.

So dance madly and chaotic.

Dreams that last like a narcotic.

The caricature of a me.

Drowning and crying in the sea.

Playing soccer on the field.

Former lovers leave concealed.

From your smile to a frown.

The last breath before you drown.

But I see that everything.

Merely a silly little dream.

Crying tears, abundant tears.

As I wake up from my dream.

And feel my heart crunch.

Failure.
Everyone experiences it,
In various shapes and forms,
School. grades. friends. Life,
Lots of frustration,
Hard work and dedication,
But still failed,

Endless studying,
Overworking oneself,
Thoughts of achieving success,
Like trying to find a needle in a haystack,

The dream of getting the test,
With the BIG A on it,
Feeling the ease of the heavy stress,
Uplift off the shoulders,

Knowing that they did it,
They made the dream they were striving for,
Having the joy of saying,
I have succeed.

But the dream fades away,
The feeling of coming out of a coma,
To see yourself in class,
Doing nothing, but daydreaming,

You realized upon that,
To be doomed to the fate,
Of failing once again.

River water flows
Quenches imagination
On scorched riverbank

The therapist tells my mother that my scars will heal.
She did nothing wrong.
My brain is the problem.
Chemicals unbalanced.
Slashes on my wrist will fade.
The depression may not.

The therapist tells my mother I respond well to music.
I make beautiful melodies on a bloodstained guitar.
I keep beat with rattles of prescription candies.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
One measure.
One dose.
Knock back the glass like it’s filled with throat burning *****.

Little ugly pond
had its moment of beauty
in the glow of dusk.

Garden of flowers
A creamy raspberry sorbet
It's good to be home