Always the cloud,
Blocking out my sun,
Filling me with darkened thoughts,
Never any fun.
Makes me question the point,
Wondering if the struggle is worth the ending.
Always suffering,
For what?
Eventually, the clouds will move on,
My sun will resurface,
I’ll hide my pain behind a smile,
And walk on,
For what am I to do?

I bled.

Warmth seeped into my cold arms,
The vivid hue a reminder of life within me,
And me within life.

No pain—only a thought:
Is this the shade of burgundy you love,
Or is it darker?

If I were to capture it in a painting,
would you hang it?

Would it move you more
if you knew the source?

For even my emptied veins, a sacrifice,
Remains unworthy of you.

The first “hello,” a waving hand
We’re only seats apart
“How do you do? Wanna be friends?”
That’s how it used to start
Expired words, still on my tongue
The words I wish to hear
Now changed from days when I was young
To whispers in my ear,
“All this is fake, so shallow too.”
“You sure you’re really friends?”
“I bet they just put up with you,
Cause you help meet the ends.”
The questions dragged up from my mind
I’ll tell the moon at night
And search alone, hope I can find
The answers to my plight
Tomorrow when the dark retreats
I know I’ll call you friend
I hope you’ll do the same for me
Even if you just pretend

Wearing songdance
Long time ago
Weaving a picture
Motion-slow

Grasping the nature
Of the unknown
Stumbling, falling
On the hard floor

Words, what are they?
Abstract objects in mind?
Fears? Seem so heavy,
But are rarely right.

Strange debates
One perceives
But it depends
On what one believes

Once projection
Takes over one's mind,
Chains reaction
Makes one real blind

And disconnected
In the abyss
May one still be able
To call life a bliss

Beauty may differ
In stranger's view
Mountains may move

If love is true.

Words,
How powerful and distinguished they can be,
But, when in the hands of the enemy,
Become slimy, coarse, static and sloppy.
The old saying goes:
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
I believe that’s not the truth,
And that words can leave bruises,
Break hearts, and leave scars,
Corrode and erode,
Till there’s nothing but calamity.

How quick one is to insult another,
With not a thought on the consequences of speech.
Is it purely ignorance?
Or a lack of decency?
Morality’s gone out the window,
Only hatred remains,
Or at least that’s all it seems,
Few eyes in the overwhelming hurricane.
What happened to kindness?
What happened to peace on earth?
It seems to me, everywhere you look,
A new conflict has emerged.

Language can be so beautiful,
When presented to people who are good.
Not the ones who say the same crude words,
Over and over,
I won’t spell them out,
For they’re repulsive.
Have they little shame?
Or perhaps they don’t care?
Who they cut with their words,
As they fly through the air.
It’s sad when to insult seems standard,
And being kind is an extraordinary phenomenon.
It makes me wonder,
What planet am I living on?

My favorite,
Which means I hate it,
Is when people say a certain two words.
“**** yourself…”
How could they be so cruel!?
To wish the end of someone else’s life!
They say it so thoughtlessly,
Without a care in their ignorant, daft minds!
But they’re joking so that makes it okay!?
I think they forget that a joke is supposed to be funny!
What’s funny about wishing for somebody to die?
What sociopathic, narcissistic person,
Thinks that’s funny?
What if who they said it to was suffering?
What if what they said,
Confirmed every sickening, tragic thought,
In their head?
What if that following night,
They took the *****’s advice,
And didn’t show up at school the next day?
Would they feel ashamed?
Or would they even cry?
At the fact that their words,
Caused someone to die?

I’m not saying I’m perfect,
Farthest from it.
But I am careful to choose my words,
Before they leave my head.
Let me tell you a few truths.
Not every opinion you have needs to be shared.
Not every thought you have needs to be said.
Not every observation about someone else needs to be uttered.
Not every harsh comment needs to be spoken.
Some things are best left unsaid.
Sometimes it’s best to just stay silent.
Sometimes it’s best to remain quiet.
Because your words are weapons,
Your words are swords.
Wield them wisely,
Or are you unworthy?
To use this language,
So complex and enigmatic.

Words,
Can mean the difference between life and death,
Joy and chaos,
Love and hate,
Words carry a lot of weight.
Think about what you say,
Before those thoughts escape your brain,
Please,
The last thing we need,
Is more hate in this life.

Walking down the aisle of thorns
With the gashes leaving me ache
Assuming the red was exodus
And the green were to soothe
The melody in my ears
Apprise me with the longing
I did gainsay the fears
Thinking this is the bold's road
This hoax I loved
And this hoax I praised
Neglected to pass the trial
As I couldn't reckon
The red was black at night
Leaving the green be the viper

You never knew me before,
And you probably won’t care much afterward.
Nobody probably wants to hear what I have to say,
But just in case…

Am I good enough?
If I am then why don’t I feel like it at all?
Is feeling unworthy just another facet of existence?
Is a lack of self-worth just another problem to persist through?

I’ve always kept to myself.
Tried to hide the innermost parts of me,
Well protected by a wall.
That way, I keep myself safe.
But is it really safe?

Maybe I am too hard to get to know.
So people don’t even bother trying anymore.
Maybe that’s my own fault,
I wonder about that a lot.
Every now and then a person slips through the cracks,
And if I’m lucky I gain a new friend.
I’ve never had the best luck.
So I keep most people at a “safe” distance.
I don’t mind being alone,
But I hate feeling lonely.

I think I have a pretty boring personality,
After all, being smart isn’t a trait people adore.
Maybe that’s another problem with me.
Add it to the list.

Sometimes I wonder what my friends see in me.
I worry constantly about how I’m seen.
I feel so unworthy, for how lucky I’ve been.
Am I worthy?
After all, they had to try real hard to get me to do anything.
Is that someone they really want to be around?
My anxiety, it cripples me.
Sometimes I wish that it wasn’t so loud.

Sitting in the background of a classroom,
Makes me wonder if my presence changes a thing.
If I was gone, sick for a day, would anyone notice or say anything?
Probably not they have better things to do.
Maybe I am just a narcissist, add that to the list too.

Will anyone ever truly understand me?
Will I just be another person cast aside?
Will I just be forgotten?
Who can say?

Maybe I am just too sensitive,
Though I try to not let what people say affect me.
“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.”
All lies to mask the pain.
Words hurt.
People couldn’t care less.

They say just to be yourself,
But what if yourself isn’t what is popular or wanted.
How long till the loneliness sinks in?
Perhaps it’s all just a big misunderstanding.
Maybe I should try being more open.

Always wondering, what do I not have that others do?
What makes me so mediocre?
Why can my friends be more social than I am?
What skills do they have that I don’t?
Why do I always feel so awkward?
Why do I always feel out of place?
Why do I always feel so lost?

There are things that I would love to say.
Certain words that would brighten up my day.
To someone I adore.
The effects those words may have would cause too much change.
So I’ll bite my tongue as I always do.
Pray and hope that the feeling washes through.

The overthinking mind is a blessing and a curse.
Creates so many fictitious scenarios.
All unnecessary, all compulsively,
No point in trying to stop it.
Anxiety doesn’t help the picture,
Always wondering if I’ve made a mistake.
Always fearing that I’ve pushed someone away.
Always thinking about what people think.
Always hating why I feel this way.

I don’t think I look the best.
I’d rate myself a four to a six out of ten.
Maybe that’s a bit too harsh.
Or maybe that’s a bit too nice.

The future is a scary thing.
Fearing I’ll lose everything.
Will I amount to anything?
Or will I be nothing?
Time will tell.
I’ll dread it until,
The future becomes the past.

I’ve grown scared to look people in the eye.
Silly, I know, but it's become a slight phobia of mine.
I look up, down, everywhere around,
Except in the eyes.
I’m trying to get better,
All I can do is try.

Everyday is about the same.
Prepare your mask to hide the pain.
Don’t let the dam break away.
Just smile and wave.
Am I okay?

Am I good enough?
Or are my friends just crazy?
Am I a good friend?
Or are my feelings going hazy?
Am I interesting at all?
Or is my perception of myself just flawed?
Should I feel proud?
Or should I just create a shroud?
Is the real me worth seeing?
I don’t know
I don’t know…

You didn’t know me before,
You probably still don’t know now.
Maybe though, you’d like to know.
That in this moment,
This specific moment,
That I’m writing this,
Or technically typing this,
I feel good enough.
Not because anybody told me.
Instead I told myself,
And I believe.
So maybe just maybe,
I am good enough…