When you're name lights up my phone
I answer as quick as I can,
Even though you want nothing to do with me.

Clearly
You chose him after all.
I find myself wanting to scream at you.
Shout at you, hurt you.
I want to say

I HATE YOU!!

But everytime it's just,

I love you.

But not anymore,
Now I fight to stop myself screaming.

WHAT THE **** WAS I TO YOU?

Do you wanna know something?
You don't get to be a ******* memory

I wish I could win the button that resets the reset button
I'd pin that button on my vest and wear it out on Sunday
and
on other days I'd put it in my treasure chest.

I wish and wish and if wishes wear thin I'll never get to pin
anything anywhere.

I tried to turn this anger into art
oh, god did I pray for one stroke of beauty
I was blinded by fog and the nausea consumed me
I fell to my knees looking for a single way to make sense of this hate
I don't remember how to channel my energy, the kind that just drains me
Into something healthy, something beautiful, something colorful
I just know that I'm struggling to stay above water
The tide comes in aggresively, and I am looking for a fight
I start arguments with the mirror to distract myself long enough not to collapse
Because I remember you're not coming back,
You're never coming back


*******.

I don't care thats the thing. I cant take it anymore.

You don't know what its like with Jimmy in my head slowly taking over.
I cant, every peaceful moment is taken up by Jimmy and he is winning.

"I should have realised earlier"
"I can't have you running round like that"
"please do me a favour and just do It" he does that all the time.

Thats why I don't sleep.

I can't be strong anymore.
Doesn't anyone ******* understand.
I'm only so strong and right now  I have to fight myself.
I cant win this fight.

It will destroy me.
I have no strength anymore. If I take anymore I will crumble and lose the fight.

The Internet is broken and corrupted,
the battle ground of the corrupt soldiers who lay down their lives behind a screen, too afraid to step forward and make a change.

You have a voice.
That is all you need now to be different,
but to make a difference,
you have to use your voice.
For good, for what you believe,
you have to use your voice to its advantage,
take the virtual battle into the real world.

But why doesn't this happen?
I'll tell you why.

Media censorship,
Media propaganda,
Media control

The media have caused fear and anxiety of stepping up and shouting out.
By forcing images and thoughts onto people,

A subliminal mind ****,

You don't have to be visible,
Or even have your name known to make a difference,
It's not confidence that will help, rather it is anger at the oppression.

Anger at the media.
Break out.
Fight for your beliefs,
And never surrender to the propaganda.

I don't understand the concept
Of shaming someone for speaking
About their problems simply because someone else’s could be bigger

Why would one walk up
To a depressed woman with
Cuts on her wrist and say,
“You shouldn't be complaining,
My friend killed herself.”

Why on earth would telling someone
That their burdens aren't justified
Because they aren't heavy enough to
Fit society’s sympathy scale
Bring you any form of joy?

For the love of GOD, I'd never
Walk up to a teenage boy
And say, “You should be ashamed of yourself
There are kids starving in Africa but THEY DON’T CUT THEIR WRISTS.”

People often suffer in silence
Though they're being eaten alive
Because they think their demons
Aren't monstrous enough for sympathy

I can count on two hands
All of the times I've been told
“You should be grateful
That you don't have it worse”

My problems
Shouldn't be justified
Based on how severe I'm
Hurting.

Everyone has a different definition
Of “falling apart”
And if you kept yours to yourself
Maybe I wouldn't be so afraid

Afraid to let people know
That I'm often not okay
But I'm afraid to hear someone
Tell me “it could be worse”

Because if I feel like I constantly
Wish I could sleep for a decade
It doesn't matter if
Someone else seems more distressed

I'm so tired of mental illness
Being a contest of who has it worse
Because it affects everyone
In different ways

I don't care if she may
Have it worse than I
Because I still find it hard
To get out of bed in the morning

And I really wish
Coming clean about your struggles
Didn't turn into a game of
“Who has it worse?”.