I look across the street
at the woman walking by.

Her slender form
in bright reds dressed,
a beating crimson heart
against the exsanguinated grey
of dry asphalt.

I look across the street
and dare not move.

Because my mother
raised me undeserving
of the time of someone
whom bleeds life into
an exsanguinated day.

I look across the street
and nothing more.

As my father taught me
to live unremarkable
and let all songbids
fade away from memory...

I could not walk with her.

I lay here
on ashen asphalt
and wait for the red
to bleed out of sight.

I look across the street
and exsanguinate
any hope of lasting love.

i love them,
"do you?",  whispers my mind.
"i do," murmurs my heart.

but i stumble,
always.

words slip,
unwelcomed,
uninvited.

i don’t deserve them.

a tear falls.
the mirror blurs.
"it’s over already," the mind sighs.

I want to love
But I hate me
So what love I deserve
I cannot see

Pray and hope
For someone to embrace
Glance in the mirror
And I'm not worth the chase

So back away now
Before my heart latches on
Don't step so close
So I can tell myself it's wrong

Frail and grasping
The slightest kindness
And you outshine the sun
I will never bare that likeness

In my eyes
As much as I want
Don't touch me
It's a cruel taunt

My heart sprints to keep up
Attempting to reason
With a self mutilating mind
Saying to love me is treason

So don't touch me
I'll love you for a while
Tell myself I'm undeserving
Move on, nod and smile

And you'll never hear a word of it

too busy feeling sorry for myself
to listen to them,
my pain hurts others in unforgivable ways,
when can I stop fighting this battle?
coz that's when I can stop fighting them

their trust and love
I don't deserve.
this battle isn't theirs,
its mine

I need to do what's right,
one touch and it's all gone.
then I can stop hiding,
stop fighting
against them.
breathe one last breath
they'll cry for a day,
but realise its all for the best

things will be easier
for them, not just me.
the war I'm fighting- over
I admit defeat

i'm sorry

like sorry can cut it

You know I feel like ****
Not complete **** just ****
I also know it's my fault
Slowing down on my meds
Not stopping
Just taking less than perscribed
I do it to stay focused
It's either Focused and depressed
Or happy and all over the place
People like me more focused
I'm less annoying
I'm more bearable
But more depressed
Luckily
Sadly
Thankfully
They can't see that part
It's this or Happy
But then I can't focus
I get bad grades
I annoy and **** people off
People don't like me
The only person who does is me
But why
Why do the drugs have to be 1 or the other
They cancel each other out
So it's focused or depressed
Or a little of both
I feel like I should be more focused during Lancers [marching band]
But then I'm more depressed
And while I feel like ****
I also feel that
I Deserve It
I am a better person while depressed
I can help those in the same situation better
I can help others more
If I'm happy
It is Not fair
I feel like a failure to those I've told about my mental health
I told them I'm depressed but then I'm not
Am I a liar?
Am I a failure?
...
Well that one's easy of course
I'm a failure either way.
When I'm happy I feel like a liar
When I'm happy I feel like a liar
When I'm happy
....
I feel like a liar
A ******* discrase
Who am I to say I have depression when I'm happy?
It's not fair
What about all those who don't feel the way I do with the same past
When They are on drugs
What if they can't get those drugs?
How's that ******* fair?
How?

I want to live
But if I live, I hurt
If I hurt do I deserve to live?
They only care for you when you say your going to **** yourself
What about if you aren't there Yet
At THAT moment
Then what are you?
Invisible....

And why are there so many of us so ******* depressed?
Just stop it please
Give me the pain of everyone and let me suffer by not killing myself
But suffering with it while alive
To eliminate everyones depression
It NEEDS TO END...
Please
Just stop

But not for me
For everyone else

When I'm happy I feel like a liar.
When I'm happy I feel like a liar.
When I'm happy I feel like a liar.
When I'm happy I feel like a liar.
When I'm happy I feel like a liar.
When I'm happy I feel like a liar.
When I'm happy I feel like a liar.
When I'm happy I feel like a liar.
Why
Why
Why
Why
Why
....
....
....
....
....
....
....
...

..


..
­
..


.
what do I do

how could You
love something
so selfish
and

broken
and
confused

and
undeserving?

how could You love a sinner
like me?

But I suppose
That’s what The Cross is for.