#itwillgetbetter
When caterpillars are born
They just, they all look the same
Just like how babies are born
Coming out of their mothers
Womb, they cry, scream,
They feel helpless.
But we were taught at a
Young age that we need
To be independent, but how
Can we be independent if
We don’t feel like we are
In our own body
Just like how caterpillars are
Colored to to resemble their
Surroundings. We hide behind
A mask, we pretend that
Everything is okay
But there are teens out there
Reaching for that blade or
Another bottle just one more
Time
But that one time
May be their last breath
Caterpillars make
Cocoons just like
How teens hide in
Their rooms,
They say I’m fine
But if you look into
Their eyes you
See darkness, there’s
No life left in them
It’s hard, we say we
Don’t need help but we’re
Screaming for it
We hide in our cocoons and
We comfort ourselves but it’s
The wrong kind of comfort
We rely on that bottle or
That blade rather than someones
Ear or their shoulder
We hide who we are
We want to fit in so
We pretend to be beautiful
We pretend to be happy
We put up that wall, just like caterpillars
We don’t see our true
Colors
We don’t see how
Beautiful we are
The darkness is scary
But we...we give up
Until we see that light,
That light saves us
It cracks open a new
Beginning
We put down that blade and
We put down that bottle
And we pick up
Our journals, and our pencils
Caterpillars come out on the
Other side, they bloom
We bloom, we open up our
Wings and take off
We become butterflies
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
it was cold.
and rainy and dark and musty but mostly just cold.
she ran out of his apartment half naked;
sweats with no shirt.
she wasn't even sure if they were hers.
you couldn't tell with the rain what was false and what was true,
that waterproof mascara though was certainly false advertised.
it's the nights like these that make her sit and wonder,
is it the vibe she gives off?
the way she carries herself?
whatever it is, it follows her everywhere.
always ready to drop dirt and rain on the sunniest of days.
Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
Just as one nightmare ends another one starts
The anxiety fades but the depression stabs me in my heart
It’s The calm before the storm where everything is warm and the sun beams down before i am torn apart and dragged to an unknown place
the dark hole i’m immersed in has never seemed so black
i want to find a way out but something draws me back
i army crawl my way to have one good day and cut myself up on hopelessness and dismay and i may get a wave but it quickly goes away and i stand there feeling empty
the slice down my arm is dripping with red
enough to feel the pain, but not enough to be dead
i stare at the cut god **** you hopeless **** i want out of this rut but the door remains shut and i have no strength left to kick it open
would anyone care if i was no longer around
if my voice was no longer an existing sound
if i let myself bleed then maybe i’ll be free let out one last scream no one will miss me and i’ll finally be in heaven and not hell
‘cause the demons thrive here in this terrible world
it is far too scary for this innocent girl
just grab that knife don't you dare think twice just take your life this place is not nice but i stop and breakdown crying
goodbyes must be said to the ones who may cry
i wish them luck in this world full of lies
i’ll miss them but i can’t keep opening my eyes
to the void places that lurk outside
i can't hide
i can’t escape
so all i do is never wake
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 11:14 PM UTC
I feel.
As if I could dive into my own darkness.
To see how much light is left at the bottom.
To see how much love I have left.
Do you know what I have found?
It the pit of the well that is my despair.
Do you know what I have found?
A tiny pebble.
So bright.
That it could save us all, from the night.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
A year is not that long
A day is gone in a breath
and you can barely blink in between Mondays.
Four weeks in a month,
and only twelve months this year.
A year is not that long
But a year can change everything.
365 days from now I might be asleep
In your lap at last.
My face in the crook of your neck
and my breathing is slow and deep.
There must be stars in my breath
And forgotten spells in your hair
because this moment is magic.
or maybe you’re sitting on your bed alone
turning over a letter
knowing you shouldn’t do this again
But you trace your hands over the print
Still smooth and undisturbed black
Because you were always careful not to cry
on the last thing you had left
since I never made it home to you.
Maybe you and I hug before we part in the mornings;
we do it every day but it never feels routine.
I remember a hundred times I cried to be held like this
and you squeeze me tight like you’ll never let go
And then we break apart and you smile as I pick up my coffee
because it’s so good to be together.
Or maybe you nod when people say I’m in a better place
and make jokes to crease worry out of their brows.
But at night you send messages to an inactive account
about how much you miss me
and if you could have any miracle it’d be another chance
to make me laugh again.
The messages never read “seen” anymore
Because I’m under six feet of dirt
and typing ellipses are just a memory now.
Maybe you’re worried
because you really need at least a B on that test
but I sneak up behind you with tickles
and you scream that you’ll ****** me
but I get a piggy back ride around the living room instead
Multiple choice and essay questions forgotten.
Or you’re staring at my smile
Fondly remembering how much I complained about braces
But how pretty it is (you won’t say was)
and ignoring the thick ache in your chest
imagining me pressing the shutter button
to capture a selfie
that would last longer than me.
You won’t let yourself think about
how the twinkle in those eyes
will never again exist in this world.
A year is not that long
But a year can change everything.
365 days;
Only God knows what shall come.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC