I used to wonder,
how people run back to bad relationships.
And then,
I met you.
Everything was great the first week we talked and when we met up,
Even a few days after things were still going good,
but then,
things took a turn.
You changed in the matter of a day,
your upbeat freindly vibe changed to controlling and emotional.
You told me not to be honest with you, and if i were you would leave,
You got drunk and tried to put the blame on me for your bad decisions.
And yet,
here I am,
struggling with wether or not the choice I made was right.
That maybe I'm the crazy one,
or that there is reason and rationally behind why you said and did what you did,
that somehow I'm the bad guy,
because it hurts me,
that I hurt you.
But now at least,
I don't have to wonder anymore.

These walls that I have built,
have filled me with some guilt,
for I have not let anyone in.
These walls are not made of tin,
but concrete.
Which is oftentimes difficult for me to defeat.
Some days they seem to be only ten feet tall,
yet other times they make me feel so small.
They're designed to keep people out,
so that I cannot be hurt without a doubt.
I know sometimes they can be good,
but other days, I wish they were made of wood.

To the me who was young and didn't think it would get better,
It is to you that I write this heartfelt letter.
Thank you for holding on when things were rough,
It just proves that you are insanely tough.
Thank you for being so level headed,
I know there were many times that you surely dreaded,
But keeping a clear mind,
Shows that you are one of a kind,
And not much can over take you.
No matter how blue,
You feel,
There are a few things I know to be real,
You are kind, funny and smart,
And you have a pretty big heart.
Although sometimes it doesn't feel okay,
Please know that it will one day,
Because you cannot grow with just all rain.

My heart feels like it's broken into pieces,
My mind is racing for a million different reasons.
I've got not one, not two, but three different people,
Who want to do things to themselves that are lethal.
It just doesn't seem fair,
And almost like they don't care,
Who the they hurt,
When they're going to be buried under six feet of dirt.

Your words burn like a fire through my heart.
How am I supposed to believe if I've been put down from the start?
Never good enough,
But that didn't mean you had to be so rough.
I'm sorry for all the things that I did,
But I was only just a little kid.
I cried and you told me stop
Or elese you'd a real reason to cry.

There's this person I know, and I've known him for quite some time.
And he comes around more often than not.
Some times he stays for a short time,
And others he makes my home his home.
We've had tea quite a few times,
We've had breakfast, lunch or dinner, we've spent hours on end,
And he's even stayed over a couple of times.
He's not good for me,
My heart hurts when he's around,
My stomach often in knots,
My head in shambles.
His presence alters me.
I finally learned his name,
His name is Pain.
He has been in and out of my life since I can remember.
And whenever I see his glistening smile looking back at me,
I know what's in store,
But for how long I'm not sure.
I can always count on him to knock on the door at some point,
And charm his way in,
But sometimes it's force that he uses.
His presence is inevitable,
No matter if I move,
Or hide,
Or run,
He will always find me or catch up.
But I have found if I run a certain way, his stay will shorten,
And his impact not as great.
If I run the opposite way his stay is longer and more hurtful.
Sometimes I'm not sure which way to run.
But I try anyway.

There are many beginnings and ends in this world.
Like when a caterpillar ends its life as a caterpillar and makes its cocoon,
It leaves everything it knows behind,
It trusts life's process and it becomes something greater and more beautiful than what it once was.
Or when a seed is planted and becomes a beautiful breath-taking flower. It also becomes something greater than its self.
And I wonder if the same goes for humans too.
I have struggled for a long time, but I have become a better person out of it.
But some struggles stay.
Will the struggle always be there?
Or will that end and something else begin?

When it rains it pours,
The storm of life is never forgiving.
Often giving us more than we feel like we can handle.
It floods our bodies with emotion, stress, anxiety, and depression.
We can either tread through the flood, or let it drown us.

I wish I could tear my skin away to show you the scars unseen.
So you could see how my hearts been beaten and battered,
Stomped, forgotten,
And worst of all,
ripped apart.
If you could see the story of my heart,
Yours would cry for mine.
But this thick skin doesn't open up easily,
Or for just anyone.
It protects so that my heart sustains no more injuries or pain.

The wringer is no place for a damaged shirt to be.
It may be torn or ripped in its most fragile state.
It may not come back to you the same as it did when it entered, losing a part of what it was.
But you have no choice,
because it's the only shirt you have
and you need it today.
You need it everyday.
But every time you put your shirt through the wringer, you're risking the loss.
Be patient.
Be gentle.
your old shirt.
It's all you have.
If you loose it then what?
Set it out to dry and
let it be.

I’ve exchanged razor blades for,

Pen tips and lined paper.

I no longer bleed for real but with words onto paper,

And suffering is no longer an option.
Feelings are a part of the human experience,

And are nothing to be afraid of.
Feelings are okay, and won’t take over.
Crying doesn’t make you weak,
Or anything less than what you are,

But they do mean you’re alive,

That something mattered.

Chaos can live all around you,

In your home, in your school, at your work,
But you don’t have to be chaos, you don’t have to let it in even if it knocks on the door a million times.

You’re not responsible for the feelings and actions of others, they’re not yours to own, even if you’re made to feel like it.

Life’s and amazing journey,

And it’s only just begun.

Isn't it interesting
What can change in a years time.
You look around and your whole life is different.
You have new people in your life,
And old ones have gone away.
Your wounds sting less,
You've changed.
Maybe you've changed for the better,
Or maybe the worst.
It's a difficult life sometimes, but it's nothing we can't handle.
Everything happens for a reason.
You crossed this poem for a reason, your best friend hurt you for a reason,
You failed a class for some odd reason.
We may never know these reasons until years afterward.
And that's okay.
Life's a journey,
It's the longest  journey we'll ever take,
The path of life is bumpy, and there's a lot of hills, some big, but most small. We encounter heartbreaks and heart gains. We encounter friends and foes, tears and happiness.
And it's all okay.
We're human,
And we're on a journey.

She wished her tears could fall as gently as the rain.
Her eyes are almost always sunny, sometimes partly cloudy
But they never rain.
They may sprinkle for a moment but nothing more
Her emotions take over like a category five hurricane
They come in gently in then all at once.
There's a moment in the middle the eye
Where everything is safe and calm for a moment
And that's when she's in therapy.
She feels safe and calm in between four walls,
They're not just any four walls,
They're non judging walls,
they're be herself walls,
They're it's okay to be vulnerable walls,
And most importantly stable walls.
No matter what she brings in between then
They're not going to fall or fail
They'll support and her help shelter her from the storm that's raging outside.
They won't fall fall and crumble and create more chaos
But instead they help her heal and strengthen.
This calm eye of the storm comes once a week in between mostly storms and a few times of sunshine
This oasis is her salvation
For without it she would be lost
Or eve dead.

The words were stuck like a chicken bone in her throat.
They wouldn't go anywhere,
They wouldn't go away back to the hell they were made
But they also wouldn't crawl out
They were lodged
They liked it where they were
They were safe
They couldn't cause anymore harm
They couldn't become a reality
But they could be felt
They were known and couldn't stew
And the feelings that came with them couldn't
Be shoved back down to be ignored.
To be left alone with no one to care for them.
That's what they needed, to be cared for
To be seen, to be heard to be felt.
The feelings
the words
The pain.
That's what they needed.
To be held gently,
To be loved and cared for
But they didn't get it
Because she was afraid
She was afraid of what they might do to her
They weren't going to love and care for her
She felt they were going to hurt her
She didn't know what was going to happen
If she poured them out and laid them on the table
And carefully examined and loved each one.
Tears might fall
Breathing may be lumbered
Shaking may take over
And shame might settle in.
So she swallows them back down
Into the bottle where they're not looked upon
And screws on the cap as tight as she can
And then new begins a new day.
But each new day brings more feelings and thoughts and words
And eventually the bottle can't hold them anymore and it shatters
And they make their way back up to her throat again.
And the cycle repeats.
She's stuck, and so are they.

You think it's okay
But it's not.
Both of our lives
Are racing against the clock
Tick,tick,tick.
And when the big hands on the two.
And the little hands on the three
We're done.
There's no going back.
There's no changing the mistakes we've made.
There's no saying I love you one last time.
There's no taking on more whiff of the fresh cut grass,
Or your favorite perfume.
Tick tick,tick
There's no more adventure.
There's no more heartbreak.
There's no more anything.
We'll.
be.
gone.
Tick, tick, tick
So we need to do it now.
We need to indulge on the gifts we have now.
It's okay to order that piece of cake
It's okay to get that hair cut you love
But everyone else hates.
It's your life not theirs.
Tick,tick,tick
Do something you love
Because you love doing it.
Even if everyone tells you you're wrong.
Because our clock is ticking.
We can't see it.
We don't know if the big hand has almost reached the two.
And if it's almost there
And our time is up.
Did we live the life we wanted to?
Tick,tick,tick.

To cook something beautiful
You need a few unsightly ingredients.
Like to make a cake
You need flour and baking soda
Baking powder, sugar, and a hint of salt
Water and eggs.
They aren't appealing to look at
By themselves
Or even when mixed together.
But when handled right,
And with a little time
Love and care
An oven and a spatula
You conform them into exactly the right shape
And those unsightly ingredients become
A tasty treat,
But what's a cake without frosting?
It's something bigger than what it was.
It's a combination
The frosting makes it more
Visually appealing,
It masks the overly cooked
Side.
Some air pockets from
An inexperienced
Or careless chef.
It's masks imperfections.
You can't force a cake to become perfect.
It needs time,
it needs love,
it needs care.
Dare I say it again,
It needs time,
It needs love,
It needs care.
When the cake
Gets those, and is left alone
To bake,
To think about what it's job is,
To not just be beautiful
Covered in frosting
But without it as well,
You'll have the best ****
Cake you've ever made.
It won't be over done on one side
Or the other,
It won't have air bubbles,
It'll glisten and gleam,
And be pristine.
You'll have a cake
Beautiful
On the inside and out.

They say when life hands you lemons make lemonade
But how can I do that in the pouring rain
When I'm all out of sugar
And misplaced my pitcher and cup
It feels like there's no way to whip it up
So I'm stuck with these lemons
And nothing to do
Oh how I wish I could make a switcheroo
I'd chose something sweeter than lemons
But I can't and I won't
So I guess I'll stick with this poem that I wrote