I don't know why
I keep writing sad poetry.

I'm happy now.
I truly am.

my life is getting better
and my scars are fading

and I'm so proud because
at thirteen, I thought that
by now I would be dead.

so I don't understand.

how could I be so happy
if my mind is still
conjuring up these thoughts?

I'm finally looking
forward to the future,
so why is my mind still
thinking about the past?

Either love me
Or
Hate me.
Don't be two-faced.

Would you just shut up and listen?!!!!!!!!
Just, please... hear me and my vision.
Let me share my "invalid" opinion!

   I know you don't care, but I do.
I just want to be of importance too!
I want to share something I know to be true.

Can we have an actual conversations?
Not one that includes only your invasions?
I can't just sit here and listen to your expectations.

I am tired of being scarred
but you leave me charred,
and you make life so hard.

Please, just shut up and listen...

its never ending
the room spins
is this real?
mid sentence
thoughts
thoughts
are you actually talking...

You want me
It’s true yes you do
I’m a pawn
Another use
But you want more
More of me
Me, me, me
Double or nothing
I’m a status symbol
Something to smile about  
I make you feel powerful
Not for me no but what I mean
You tamed me you see
Marked me when you were inside
That’s all that matters
You need as much of me as you can get
You’ll even hurt me to get your way
You need to feel this way
I wish I could admire whatever strength you claim to have
By doing what?
You think sticking me with a needle means that you’re a god
That scars and bruises are just less dignified ribbons
And the more you do it with more duplications that must mean you’re the best, right?
Pathetic and selfish and so laughable and insecure
I’m begging myself to pity you
But all I find is pain and shame and rage
What is so wrong about me that I am nothing more than a mystery to gawk over?
Do you understand what it’s like to be treated like an empty vessel?
No I don’t expect your sympathies
You’ve killed that part of you since you were a child

Applauds on resilience
Persistence and stubbornness
Born to make, to create
Sees all in which nothing should exist
Imagine being that
Potential is stored inside me
Waiting but yet begging to be let out
I starve myself my laziness
What’s of all the effort if all I get is strife?
Laugh at me all you want
Is what you love worth the pain of caring?
Knowing others will always be above you
I’m so tired
I shot myself short before I could even begin