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?”.

Clench me by the throat
And throw me down to hell
Maybe that’s where I belong
‘Cause I ain’t doing well

Your words dig into me like knives
But I’ve got many scars
Beat me ******, beat me bruised
And take me to the stars

Dig your nails into my spine
Then tell me it’s for love
Tell me I’m your entire world
Then crush my mourning dove

Tell me I was your beautiful rose
But I pricked you with a thorn
Tell me I was your shimmering stars
Then leave my petals torn

Chew me up then spit me out
Because we could never fit
But when I find a new shimmering sun
You’ll feel like absolute ****.

What do you mean?
"This is on you"-Me?!
Who, rode in gallantly (knight in shining armour my ***)
Swept me away,
then has the *****-
To say

"It didn't mean a thing."
**** this ring
you
and everything love brings.

I look back at all I wrote about the boy who played baseball. Who had three dogs, now four. Who was the only boy out of four sisters. Who says "God isn't real" because he lost his dad at age 12. Who was so handsome.

We've been apart for a year or so and I couldn't be happier. I hope he's happy too. He's in college now, the college I'm going to in August; funny how things work out.

But I don't miss him. I haven't missed him in a long, long time.

I remember when I thought that I loved him. That he was the one. That because he told me we were going to get married one day, that actually were.

I never loved him the way you love the one. But I did love him, in a way. I don't regret him breaking up with me. I only regret telling him "it's okay" through choked sobs and invalidating my feelings. I regret hating him for so long for breaking my heart then trying to date one of my best friends not even three months later.
I shouldn't have been mad, not really.

But now, since the summer, I realized what I had been missing for years. That my best friend---funny, strange, sweet, blonde mop top---was the one I'm supposed to be with. Maybe I'm being naive and getting ahead of myself, thinking that he is the one. Maybe I too easily think people are the one. But this love I have never experienced before, and it's so magical.

Maybe this one will end up in flames like every other one.
Maybe this one will end up with a queen sized mattress and sweet love-making in mid-morning.
I can't see the future, but God, I wish I would have stopped ******* around and asked him out years ago. Instead of dancing around each other; snuggling, holding hands, napping together, for years. Knowing that I liked him, but was too afraid to act.

I was so dumb.
I am still so dumb.
But I couldn't be happier with how life is right now.

When I cry, In the dark.
Am I considered a shark?
A beast, A inhuman being,
Who isn't more then they are seeing.
Am I an evil soul,
Not deserving Love or TLC?
In my Fragile moments,
Am I allowed to succumb to feelings?
Am I witch, A ***
For not being a *****, or bad?
Am I, an idiot or ****
For not agreeing with the 'popular' every little bit?
Do I deserve to die?
For trying not to cry.
Do you know I try to die?
Every morning, every night.
I bring out my knife.
Place it against my skin

And Cry for all thats lost.

A WKD bottle and
Pizza slices on the table
Everybody waiting in anticipation
For that beat to drop
Holding each other
In a circle
Arms around each others waist
Smiles spreading laughter
As the magic
Creates swearing and shouts
Somebody's guts
Flushed down the sink
In cleaning products
Shots being taken
Faces pulled
As they squeal for the burning to leave
*Time to go home.