You plant all day in your made up garden
You bury me in all the dirt
And then you refuse to give me a pardon

I never said a word you think
Please remove the mound from me
If I'm not removed I think I'll sink

I choke on crap you threw about
You shovel more dirt into my mouth
Stop this pointless grudge you lout

How dare you turn your back on me
I will get lost in this stupid ocean
I'm starting to drown in your dirt sea

I did not say the thing you said
And by the time you forgive me
I will be several years dead

Stop shoving dirt into my throat
I can take  it but you won't
I'll give it back and you might choke

So stop this pointless tiff
I won't tolerate anymore
Put an end to your stupid ****

You are a muted array of
Desperate poetry for poets
Flailing about a vacuous world
Bouncing off walls to the rhythm
Of lachesism, lies, and falling stars

Like an orphan on Christmas morning

There are children lacking means
To comprehend your contempt
But I remain silent because
That's what I do best

There are monsters under our beds
Who are fighting battles inside their heads.
I think we should take our meds

Because we're crazy people.


-- Eleanor

I talk to myself,
my father isn't fond of it.

Will I really end up alone...
like he tells me, when I talk to myself.

... I answer no

But, when no one is around...
does it matter who I talk to?

Because...

I'd rather talk aloud, to myself, so I know...
That my thoughts are my own.

This time last year,
I thought I was the ****.
Turns out I was not the ****.
This year, I am the ****.

I want to breath...away from the canvas.
He's made it for me but I want to be free
One part from pills that I don't have
ninety-nine parts because of the names we were called
But who decides  our worth. when we cant?
From the names we were called
the classics like "Her spaz. hey freak..."
To the names that hurt deeper than a word
The ones we cannot brush away with a well placed smile
all I want is to breath
to be free of the canvas he has made for me
To stand up for the kids who cant do it for themselves
because I know how it feels to be broken
to feel like the names that kids give you,
are really who you are
One part suicidal, too parts loyal, and ninety seven parts afraid
I wanted to **** myself in grade nine.
Because of a girl who decided that my friendship..
it wasn't worth maintaining
Because even thou I stud for all that she was doing so alone
that I was not enough...
I kept my  tears from home because home is weir love is
But what happens when love is not what I need
now I want to stand up for the kids who have no one
no matter what that girl did to me.
Because no one did it for me
One part suicidal ninety nine parts afraid
I chose to believe that all life is preciouses
because yes some of us will give up
some of us who were more than one part suicidal
wont make it
but I chose to believe that all life is preciouses
because I want those kids who called us 'freaks'  to see
that I forgive them for what they did to me

Face your demons—if that’s what it takes for you to keep moving forward.
Stop holding back—if that’s what it takes for you to feel whole again.
Let it go—if that’s what it takes for you to unnumb.
Do not suffocate—if that’s what it takes for you to move on.
Don’t fall hard—if that’s what it takes for you to live longer.

Because everything that falls, gets broken.
Because when you win some, you lose some.
Because when you decide to stay, they won’t.
Because he let go, you didn’t.
*Because you gave happiness you didn’t own and he’ll always be a question mark.