Landed on my own footsteps, I must I've been waking
in circles – with my gaze lowered. I crafted another poem,
weaving it with the chords of a guitar hidden beneath
my tongue, and shared a golden joke for the silver lining
of my soul.

My eyes, like polished bronze, seek a third reason to embrace
love, — fully aware of how swiftly I would chase after it, if
it dared to stay just out of reach. Oh, his path remains an
endless circle.

It treated me with extreme cruelty
I tried to run away from it
but I kept coming back for it
because Death wasn't ready to welcome me

I was not supposed to die like that...
It was all the failed suicide attempts

That's why I'm still here...

Oftentimes, you realize, that the shaking of an intangible void, desperate, clinging before it too is lost on an otherworldly transform of otherwise incomprehensible, nightmarish, or null thoughts, buried between the conceptions of self-deliverance and a bone-knuckled release into an endlessly exploding oblivion, or the intangible touch of a thousand tiger's treasuries.

He ****** me off
I hated him to my core
I wanted to **** him and leave behind so much gore
His head for my mantle
His heart for my stew
His soul for my brew.
But I could not
I've fought
He was stronger
My will to live I had no longer
Many attempts
And damage hidden
No I'm not kiddin'
I tried to **** myself
No one noticed
How could they
For them I was just prey
As unnoticeable as grey
But soon I saw
What I had ceased to notice
People cared
To hang out with me people did dare
I had friends
Who didn't want my life to end.
I stopped cutting
And started to smile
I swallowed my bitter bile
My sadness left
Happiness came back
But soon came the counter-attack
Junior High was a *****
Although I never had to get a stitch
Pain and Injury came abound
And my friends left me all around
I wasn't cool
I was a tool
My happiness left
Sadness returned tenfold
Someone came and made my life well...
A LIVING HELL
Back came the failed attempts.
Poisoning, Strangulation, drowning, asphyxiation  
And it all swept across my small nation
I never did have a vacation
From my close friends suicidal and Madness
Least of all sadness
But came high school
New friends
An old end
A new beginning
It got better
I never would have thought
That after I stopped and fought my feelings
That people would come back
Friends who shared my interests
Pessimistic
Yeah I still am
But I no longer wanted to be run over by a tram
People cared
That's all that it took
As if it all were from a storybook

I wrote a poem about you , at 8am .
About friendship and how we could last till at least 10am .
But by the time 4:45pm rolls around ,
You’ll be beyond reach .
Something I never thought possible for us .

At 8am , I vowed that I loved you .
At midnight I still will ,
And at 3am when the pain comes and I fear my past mistakes ,
You’ll be writing poetry about her , to be read when she wakes up at 7am .