Do you see these nails that are bitten and torn to shreds.
Do you see my hair that is mangled and tangled, it hasn't been washed in days.
Do you see this acne on my face, I pick at it till it leaves scars.
Do you see the clothes I'm wearing, I bet I haven't changed them in weeks.
Do you see this room, I haven't cleaned it in months
Do you see my teeth, they bleed because I haven't brushed them in awhile.
Do you see I go on binges of eating or not eating, cause I feel guilty.
Do you see I go on benders if drinking or smoking.
Do you see my eyes and face are red from crying recently.
Do you see my texts I never send cause you wouldn't care.
Do you see when I say "I'm ok", "I'm fine" that those are just lies.
Do you see my smile and laugh, it's mostly fake.  
Do you see how I sleep all day and wake up and go right back to bed.
You don't see but you should.

This list could go on for infinitely.
It's signs like this that should be noticed.
Depression, anxiety or any mental illness is important for learning the signs.
Your story matters just as well as your voice.

i am the uneven eyeliner on the face of life

My mother thinks she knows me, she thinks she knows my favorite color, she thinks she knows my favorite chip, she thinks she knows me. The saddest part is, she doesn't know my scars, my tears, my personality, my heart. I try to show some of myself but she just shuts me down. I try to show my heart but she just crushes it. I try to show my real self but she just throws it away. So, if I tell you one day that you don't know me, I know I am right.

It doesn't exist.
Give him a name, ideas, nationality,
all put together to create a personality.
It doesn't exist.

This reality is something to persist.
It's a crisis existential in nature we resist.
a life of meaning and motion if you wish.
Superlative, expansive in its there.
A world of reality it's not fair.

Because overly outwardly inwardly we stare.
and knows its truth, in existence, unreality to ensnare.
It does not exist.
It does not exist.
It is not there.

Lucy looks at her alarm eight times before it’s bed.
Mark can’t meet new people without a pounding in his head.
Fred gets sad on weekends,
And Molly cries a tonne
But Becky’s head keeps her awake until she sees the sun.

Robert doesn’t wake until early afternoon.
Mary let’s herself jump to conclusions far too soon.
Barney’s always manic,
And Ginger talks too quick
But Johnny only sees a crowd to make himself feel sick.

Today I may be Robert.
Tomorrow I am Fred.
But right now I am all of these and they are in my head.

Live.
See who the authentic you is.
It's a burning flame but its form is
that like water.
Claim it.
Yes clasp and aim for it.
Claim it
and do it proudly so.
Only then can you pursue your goals.
The goals that lead to providence.
Yes the big P.
The providence you decided.
The fate YOU CREATED!

Winding fingers,
Weave the thread,
That wrap me so comfortably in my fears,
Embracing.

Mould my mind,
Shamelessly encrypting my thoughts, Through and through.

Grown to shapen my impersonality,
Both for my lack there of,
And my tenancy for the impersonal.

Yet how,
Should be such a bond to my pains,
An Introspective perfection,
Or am I?

Or is that just my guise,
Impersonality guide my imperfection,
Interspective shapes my imperception.

Impossibilities in my inevitabilities.

I am.
Imperfection.