How to start caring
For every person, for every being, for every pea under the mattress struggling to breathe.
2. How to be nice even though you don’t want to be
Or
How to appreciate people’s existence
Or
How to be a people pleaser
Or
How to incorrectly judge character.
3. How to plaster a fake smile on your face and say everything’s okay. 
4. How to forget months entirely.
You will sit down at your desk in a vain attempt to get some work done, but it will accomplish nothing except making you feel hollow, worthless, and dead. Your mind will try to fight it for the first few weeks, until it becomes a routine.
5. How to lose yourself.
and constantly ricochet between desperately wanting to find yourself, and never wanting to meet your own eyes again, because you know they’ll be filled with disgust.
6. How to not be modest when people compliment you.
They say modesty becomes a way of life. That when you receive so many compliments, you don’t want to seem like a *****, and so you brush them away with modesty. But when you receive only rude, snarky comments from the people you love the most, any compliment will seem like an alien word, and while your words brush it away in a fake attempt at modesty, your brain will become recluse once more and fill your mind with self-hatred.
7. How to say no to getting pictures clicked.
There will come a time, when every memory, every moment that needs to be savored will fill you with dread, because that means yet another second you must stare at your own face while you try to hide the feeling of disdain.
8. How to disappoint people.
9. How to shrug off days when you attempt suicide, as bad days.
10. How to feel and not feel at the same time.
11. How to turn your body against you.
You will feel lost within your own body as you puke once, twice. Your body will stop reacting. Your head will stop responding. It won’t work like it’s supposed to. It will pound as it tells you, that this is not who you’re supposed to be. You will be scared that the fibers of your body have started hating you, as a person. That you hate the fibers.
As the world will disown you, your body will, too.
12. How to go from social to socially awkward.
13. How to increase heat tolerance in summers.
As you litter your body with prominent scars every night, sitting inside that washroom, eventually you will run out of places that cannot be seen, and in daytime, as you put up your facade, you wouldn’t want to relive your nights, and so observe as you shift from tank tops to quarter sleeves to turtle necks while people wonder what the **** is wrong with you.
14. How to stop caring.
There will come a point when whatever they say will cease to exist, and your body will provide enough fuel for your depression. They will finally start noticing. You will finally stop caring.

The beginning of all.
The moment that Adam stood before God
and beheld the earth under his feet;
the first sensation.
But what about God?
What was HE thinking as he flicked the stars from his fingertips;
and pulled the mountains from his feet?
I think... he was already disappointed.

   Because if he knows all,
then he knew we'd fall.
So all in all;
we're pitiful, predictable, parasites
draining this glorious place in spite,
and because of our ignorant sight
we slap a smile on and attempt to market our plight.

And what about all the step-dads, step-moms, and step-gods?
Like the people who pick up a rifle
and go tribal
so they won't be liable
for their own homophobic, blasphemous thoughts.
Because MEN wrote the bible;
not God, not Jesus,
and they're just screaming:
"please believe us!"
Because we are the stars;
but YOU are the light,
so please love and not fight."

I’m afraid of heights, spiders, ghosts, clowns,
but mostly,
I’m afraid of how my body first reacted when you said my name.
Like the first jolt of electricity
Frankenstein’s monster must of felt
when they brought him to life
in that scientist’s lab,
I swear,
I didn’t know what living was till you showed up.

I don’t usually talk like this.
You see,
people like you don’t usually just show up like this.
It’s like how that girl
in the horror movie felt
when she swore she heard footsteps upstairs.
And how she timidly walked
to the slightly opened door
not knowing what was waiting for her on the other side.
Thats how I felt,
giving my heart to you.
Afraid,
that I might not ever see the sunlight,
because you burned
that bright
that I grew blinded from reality.

I’m not a hopeless romantic.
I don’t even own a heart.
Trust me, I’ve checked.
Twice.
I pried open my chest
to find nothing but ash
that was left from the last love
that ignited a flame there.
It’s gone.
I have nothing beating there
but the remains of empty promises
from past people that came into my life
but I’ll try to pretend it’s there if you do.
Please don’t look at me like that.
Like I remind you of someone
you want to love.
I’d rather jump in a pit of spiders,
lean over the highest ledge,
than tell you
the moment you first said my name,
made something in my chest move.
That the first time you held my hand
made those dead butterflies
in my stomach,
flinch just a bit.

I really don’t see the point
in giving someone else ownership of your heart.
Hands shake,
people break,
you are a ticking bomb.
But when you go off,
I’ll go down with you.
Though my heart will turn into
ash once again.
Just know,
that if you listened closely to it’s last beat,
you would have heard your name.

I want to make the world a better place
but
Poverty is a disease on its own
the prerequisite to depression
U
S
A
only trying to stay
stay rich
and sway
sway money in front of those who are just out of its reach
and then they preach
“If we give handouts they wont know how to work and they will wait for us to do everything for them. it’s not our fault they ****** up their life, theirs.”
it’s their fault
nineteen year old mother
cares for 3 week old baby
“cut loose” for missing two nights on the street corner because she couldn’t handle selling her body when
when years from now
her daughter will call her mommy
and her **** will call her sloppy
and she
will look scrawny
and now as she puts 3 week old baby to sleep in her
cardboard box crib
and think to herself
“this is my fault, I couldn’t find any other work. So I had to sell her mother to nothing more than an object.”
well now that cardboard crib kid is
eighteen
and fresh out of school
fresh on the streets
fresh flesh enmeshed
tangled in the rich mans net
starting the cycle over again because
at eighteen
on her own
she cant afford college
at eighteen
on her own
even if she has the knowledge
at eighteen
living in the streets
at eighteen
pregnant
--------
Mommy wasn’t there when she took teenage boy in the ally for the first time
taught it was okay because they needed money
and she knew no better way
baby had nothing to say
baby just needed the pay
now there is no way
she now is her mother
and baby is now inside her
and poverty has tied her
and the government denied her
mother never to guide her
and as she lied down her her bed all she could think of is
maybe if I wasn’t so poor
the government might care about me
-------
future baby
cradled in the mind of loving mother
regretful for choice of father
hoping
“maybe this will all go away
maybe if I pray
I wont live another day”
Poverty a disease on its own
the prerequisite to depression
because
U
S
A
is the only country who has the
power
freedom and ability to change the poverty rates and chooses
to only offer jobs to those who own a house
instead of those who need them
ignored by those who could help
because they are the ones who need it
poverty is a disease
and you better believe it runs in the family
poverty begets poverty
believe me
I’m not suggesting communism
but when a man can have a ninety dollar glass of wine
but that eighteen year old can’t even afford to buy something to eat
Change is needed
people getting cheated
don’t tell me there is freedom
when I see how the poor are treated
not eating
they are human
and we pass by and ignore them like animals
tangible
pass by graves
candles
people killed by a government disease
leaving parents absent
children abandoned
and don’t tell me
there is nothing we can do
because seeing men live in 100 million dollar mansions
when someone out there
eighteen years old
is left with no more chances
chances are this wont change anything
but to stand by
and allow people to die
is ******
and poverty
is genocide
we can’t hide
the inequality
or when given the affordable health care policy
call it comedy
honestly
its time for an apology
and to stop the hypocrisy
because poverty is commonly
in large quantities
and logically
poverty shouldn’t be an unborn child’s prophecy
just because their a impoverished mothers progeny
doesn’t mean their life couldn’t be quality
so pardon me
while I speak audibly
when I say the government has no monopoly
on poverty

He pushes me away
But pulls me right back in when he wants something
He wants to see a little skin
I gave him what he wanted foolishly thinking the boy who wanted to see me naked also wanted me as a person
I play the game waiting for someone to win
We're just going in circles
He wants my body and I want to be loved
He wants to mess around and I want someone to stay in my life
We're like fire and gasoline
I let him go trying to end this silly game once and for all
But he slithers his way back in my life
And I let him stay
I know he will never love me
I can't make him love me
He only loves my body

Everyone leaves, you hear people say it but do you really understand it?
Everyone that is in your life will go away
I am fifteen years old and I know this
I find that depressing
As a teenager you're supposed to be crazy and fall in love
And have the ability to believe in miracles and happily ever after
Well I don't
I am a teenager who understands that love is temporary
Don't trick yourself into believing in forever because forever will end
You think he will stay just because he promised he would
Well promises are just words
I was foolish enough to believe in words until I realized that everyone is full of ****
I am fifteen years old and I am done believing
Believing that you will end up with the prince
Because I know the prince will just ***** you over
Promises turn into lies, hello turns to goodbye
And love, well it dies
What do you do when you give everything to love
And love comes around and destroys you
How can something so beautiful become so ugly
I am fifteen years old I am scared of ghosts and I am scared of love
I am afraid to give my heart to someone because they could break it
They could tear me into a million pieces and destroy everything I am
The boy I love could simply leave just because he feels like it
Love is dangerous
But of course I want love
I want kissing and cuddling and having someone there for me no matter what
I think that is beautiful
What I don't want is the heartbreak because he changed his mind
I don't need more sleepless nights and I sure as hell don't  need more pain
I need love, everyone does but I can't have love
Because I am afraid and fear is a powerful thing
I am afraid of ghosts so I don't watch scary movies, and I stay away from all things paranormal
I am afraid of love, so I don't let my feelings control me and I push people away because there's always a chance something could happen
Something beautiful and perfect like those red roses on Valentines Day
But the roses die,
There colors change from red to black
The beautiful perfect things turn into your worst nightmares
Love turns to hate and your happy ending slowly fades
I am fifteen years old and I am terrified of love

Feelin' manic depressive
Because love is the worst life lesson
That gets you toyed and messed with
Because you thought it was medicine
But it was really a choice weapon
That made you both get stepping
Towards this funk you both are now left in.
All because someone couldn't pay attention
And count the other as a blessing
That would be worth every second
Neither of you could question
What had happened in the past because you both got the present;
Being a gift to each other through the transgression
And guide each other in a positive direction
That the future two will be able to mention
What you both had to do to get to that ascension.
Seeking from each other some kind of protection
Through being honest and constantly confessing,
Rather than we resort to this mind guessing
That makes us both all kinds of stressing
Because I won't speak and you won't listen
And we keep coming back to some sort of reflection,
Since we both must dissect where lies this error or in-correction.
There is something, however, that needs addressing,
Which is why do we have this profound connection
That is openly discussed with heart-felt affection--
Leaving us subliminal impressions
And alters perspective of what leads us both to perfection?

Please don't try and correct me.
I'm not broken. I'm maybe free-spirited and a little out-spoken but I've got methods that water would even soak in and when you confuse me with that ****** J.R.R. Tolkien just because I'm burning herbs that Gandalf would be smokin', I'm going to brush it off like you're just joking and I'll get back to the life that i'm continuously toking, kick it back like it's all easy stroking, become at one with nature like an invisible cloak and be that dream but still get awoken by the ground as if something is choking me by the hands of some celestial bloke and hence why i feel like evoking some people with words like they are subliminal pokes and hopefully I'll please whatever it is that had me initially provoked then.