I am a misfit since age 14
I used to have friends before then
But they all turned out to be fake
I was a misfit since age 14
But that don’t mean broken
Crayons can not colour
Of  I am a misfit….
Not dead
I have  been a misfit age 14
Being misunderstood  for
Everything and everything
But this I will say now I am
36 and I am no longer a
Misfit
I am a someone who matters
With I fit in or not

Please forgive me
I don't know what's happening
It's too loud in my head,
I can't see beyond this feeling
Please forgive me,
I'm trying to find aid
Sometimes it works well,
It's worth what I've paid
But sometimes it just fails
Nothing I try works
I'm yelling like a monster
I've never felt this berserk
Please forgive me
I realize what I've done,
Only after the fog passes
After the fears have won.
Please forgive me,
I hope there is medication
Meditation's an option, I hear,
God, I need a vacation
From all of this noise,
My head feels so tight
I can't hear my voice,
Or my thoughts, or what feels right!
Please forgive me,
This is beyond my control
I didn't ask for any of this,
I just want to feel whole
Please forgive me
I wish you could relate
I wouldn't wish this upon you
I dare to wish for a better fate
Please forgive me,
This isn't an excuse
I will gladly run away,
I will gladly be a recluse.
Please forgive me,
I'd change my brain if I could
Why was I made this way?
Why can't I work like I should?

In the mirror through tears, i notice that i am dressed in the scars of every deep wound I played off like a paper cut, and the phone in my pocket weighs a thousand pounds from your text messages.

I want to skip the ******* thing in a river.

Oil and water but just as much as I know we won’t ever mix, you convince me it’s all part of the recipe.

I have shrank down, cut pieces of myself like a cake and served everyone at every table a slice every time.

Stuffed my baggage in the closet and let you move yours in instead.

Cried like an anxious dog who’s owner wasn’t around.

And we called this pain love, for 20 years.

I slipped into the role, thanks to my parents.

Mentally ill and emotionally unaware,
It’s so easy to choose what’s easy and so hard to notice your love has gone rotten.

I changed my perspective and every smooth word started to sting.

I was kind as you were building up pieces of me to fuel your own fire.

I understood until I couldn’t anymore, but you never would.

Change your perspective with me, climb the mountain and realize the hike’s easier on the way down, i would’ve carried you all the way up if you asked me. But we sat for 20 years and heard everybody on the way back down talk about the view.

I chose to sit with you instead. And when I finally took that first step up, I should’ve known it meant leaving you behind me.

I am my own destiny. I am the bullet in the chamber and the consequences of the trigger pull. I am my own mind, I tended the garden of fear and worry and constant replay of mistakes and regret. I am more than who I think I should be for anyone else.


good luck with all the **** you’ve got going on. disrespectfully yours, your ex “best friend”

I wish I am the chosen one,
the one that is so essential,
can I be better in the future?
I can’t even answer that.

Like a mirrorball suspended in a dimly lit room,
I will only say, “yes!”,
“you can have that” “you can do that”,
I would never say no,
I don’t dare to,
fret that I’ll hurt their feelings,
but did they think the same way?
this time, the answer is yes.

Sometimes, I wish I knew everything,
the scent of uncertainty lingering in the air,
sometimes, I wish I knew nothing,
the taste of regret like bitter coffee on my tongue,
either way, I’m a mirrorball
the one that’s just there,
the gentle hum of unnoticed existence,
no one even notices it,
until they need it.

Like a mirrorball, when it’s break
it’s shattered into a million pieces,
the sound of splintering glass echoing in the silence,
but that’s what makes it shine,
the dazzling light refracting through the shards,
that’s what gives it attention.

As I am  writing in my diary
I talk about the strange dark
And wonderful
But that might just be
For a dream journal
As I am writing in my diary
I see that I am dissociating
From reality
The reality that is oppressive
As I  am writing in my diary
I am writing the final chapter to my memoir
Thus far

The ghost or a demon
From the blasts of hell
Will you trick me not
But I will lead my self to
Salvation
For I am only human

Sometimes in life when you've just had enough
you gotta laugh 'till your ribs are painful but tough.
If somehow you can't laugh at yourself, the place you end up is tragically rough. Try to see some humor, because life is bizarre and for mental health. How long can you keep holding on? Pride and grudges are poison, move on. Let go. Keep moving on, steady and slow, just let it go. The grudge is a con. Retain the memory for future reference if future judgement calls are needed. But by letting go, you only lose the pain, not the experience heeded.

I finally let my demons win,
They whisper like giants, patience so thin.
In harbored of darkness I conceded my fight,
I'll no longer actively seek for the light.

My soul starts reclusing, hoping to be unborn.
Thieving shadows, my hopes they scorned.
Emotions raw, exposing myself naked bare,
A fatal step in despair's seductive entrapping lair.

A heart once ablaze, killing in one air blow.
With each pulse, I let the sorrow grow.
No armor left to guard my core,
I welcome Satan and whatever he has in store.

In the dim glow of candlelight, I stand,
Clutching the remnants of who I am.
A ritual of despair begins,
Binding me in the demons' hymn.

Chanting words I scarcely know,
I let the darkness freely flow.
An offering of my spirit's core,
A pact sealed in the silence's roar.

A dagger's edge against my skin,
The bloodied ink, my soul's chagrin.
In this ceremony, I find release,
Anointing wounds, composing this piece.

I scream, I cry, in boundless silence,
This battleground abnegating solace.
But in surrender, there's a peace,
A promise that pain shall soon cease.

I now let my demons take their place,
In the hollow of my heart's embrace.
No fight, no struggle, no facade,
Just my demons sharing a drop of my blood.

How would I know I’m not a heavy-weight,
A burden those I love could start to hate?
Each word I speak feels like a sharpened stone,
Thrown into hearts that ache, yet not my own.

How can I be sure their light stays intact,
Unstained by shadows that my soul attracts?
What if my truths are daggers they can’t bear,
And I leave scars in places unaware?

How would I know their kindness doesn’t fade,
Eroded by the cost of love they’ve paid?
What if my pain becomes the thing they fear,
A haunting voice that whispers when I’m near?

How can I trust they’d hold their steady ground,
When I pull them to where I can’t be found?
What if my sorrow seeps into their core,
And they’re not who they were, not anymore?

What if I speak, and silence fills the air,
A proof their patience vanished unaware?
Do they resent the weight my words impose,
Or wish I’d keep my sadness undisclosed?

How would I know they won’t begin to flee,
Escaping from the heaviness of me?
What if their love gives out beneath the strain,
And all I’ve left are echoes of my pain?

I’m torn between the need to reach and hide,
Unsure if they can stand what’s locked inside.
Am I a poison slowly spreading through,
Or just a soul too lost to find the truth?

That’s why I think it’s better left this way,
Alone with all the words I’ll never say.
To die with silence wrapped around my chest,
And free them from the weight of my unrest.