I am the words of scorn on a child's lips,
for a sleepy, fetid home.

I am ingratitude, and spilt milk.
I am the frozen boxer, the burnt lightbulb.

I am the sickly mirror,
who peers into an illusion of identity.

I am pain, and nerve.
I am the one who waits.

I spend most of my time staring at blank pages and listening to a snare on 2&4. I carve cuts into the tips of my fingers and bite nails off out of boredom. I also wonder how I should be living, because something feels wrong. Should I be this sad?

And every adult I have ever met talks of High school as the best years of their life, so what am I doing wrong? I have friends, I have time, I have people who care. So why do I pace up and down alone in an abandoned theater and feel grim under Friday night lights?

I wrote songs about change last year. I wrote songs about getting better. And every single ******* one of them still applies today. Now I just write to cope, and I'm trying to write better, but it's hard when I'm so jumbled. It’s hard when I get scared.

And Daniel told me to draft my work and avoid contentedness, and I trust him and I tried. I was never content. My time is flashing before me and I have the guts to wear a frown. I'm in the "good ol' days" right now, so why aren't they so good?

Rosy cheeks, jet black hair
Elegant scent that filled the air
Cheeky smile, brightest eyes
Extremely humorous and wise

He was the so-called ideal
He had a gentleman's appeal
Just like a prince charming
So handsome and alarming

He was "perfect" and "intact"
But it does not change the fact
That despite his perfection
I hate him, not to mention

"Impossible!" the others exclaim
I dislike mentioning his name
He's cute and also he's smart
I don't like it even from the start!

He's witty and he's calm
He would never beg for alm
I'm not envious, of course not
It's even deeper than you thought

He's not that bad, I could honestly say
With that, I'll try to explain anyway
Why do I hate him? Is he secretly bad?
Well here is a thing that drives me mad

He's caring and he's kind
For a little piece of mind
He's helpful, courageous
Many says that he's gorgeous

Everytime I steal a glance
It makes my heart flutter and dance
When he laughs and smiles
I remember and cherish it every while

So I hate him, a lot more than one
For one small crime that he has done
He could've just asked or give warning
He stole my heart and had me falling

Becoming a teenager was the hardest thing I’ve accomplished.
I stopped playing with Barbie dolls, instead I tried to become one.
Thousands spent on makeup, hair, nails, and clothes.

And for what?
Because I actually believed society’s opinion of me mattered.
13 years old, waking up an hour earlier than I used to, to apply layers of makeup and hairspray on top of the person I wanted to be.
I loved the person I was until the age of 13.

There are bullies wherever you go.
There are going to be people that don’t like you, no matter what.
I wish I would’ve known that running away wasn’t the answer.

I thought being pulled out of public school would be better for me and everyone else but boy was I wrong.
Being alone all the time never made me lonely.
I was stuck inside my own head stuck with the bullies I’ve created, clones of the people I’ve come across from before.
The people who hurt me and degraded me.

Depression, anxiety, PTSD, Bipolar, Insomnia.
At the age of 14, I thought a noose would suit my neck better than any kind of necklace.
Pills upon pills turned into pain
Pain turned into shutting everyone out.

Being a teenager was the hardest thing I’ve ever accomplished.

one step ahead and they're finally done
one step ahead and they're finally gone
one step ahead and she is finally proud
one step ahead,one step ahead, one step ahead

one step ahead and the glass finally falls
one step ahead and the tears finally drop
one step ahead and the fingers finally touch
one step ahead and the shirt is finally black
one step ahead,one step ahead,one step ahead

with or without,skies or the clouds,
love or a fling,food or a drink;
they finally said and they finally did
they finally free in a count of three
they finally gone and this time it's gonna be so long
they finally clap and it feels like it's only one step
they finally grow as the wind blows
and they finally smile but they're gonna cry

one step ahead before the journey ends
one step ahead before the airplane lands
and one step ahead before the new level
and one step ahead before a boy turns into a man
and one step ahead before a girl turns into a woman
and one step ahead and they finally fly to the higher level of the sky.

The mist that leaves the vapour in the morn
Crafts fragile drops of aqua,
Gently glides down the windows
Of an empty classroom.

Crisp cold enters from rough winter winds,
The doors would shut themselves,
As a gentle shower of rain would burst from the big grey blanket
That carpeted the skies.

Rain would fall.
Pitter
Patter,
Pitter,
Patter,
Upon the tin roof.

As I watched more of those soft, small orbs of water stream down the chilled glass.