The lines cutting through the canvas,
one by one carving it up.
Slowly turning it into this piece of "art".
The vivid colours jumping from the page
screaming, Look at me! Look at me!
Well, we are looking.
Yet we never truly see what is there.

Days tick by and you're still on my mind.
They say it gets easier,
but really you just learn to live with the pain.
The sadness of not being able to see you again.
It's been years now and I still want to say goodbye.
I wish I could have held you one last time,
but you were taken before I could.
I hope you know I love you,
And that,
days tick by and you're still on my mind

Emotionless through the years,
many didn't see,
possibly because they didn't want to.
Talking might have helped... but they were too busy.
Yet they'll be the first to cry once I'm gone.

Fed up with the world around.
I'm isolated.
No-one sees the pain within.
Endless. Torture.

Why don't they like me?
What can I do to change?
No matter what I do,
everything stays the same.

All of these thoughts
darting around inside my head.
As I write in my diary
words are leaping onto the two-page spread.

As these words come out, so do the tears
because I start to see all of my fears.
Now that they are in front of me it is all just too much
and so I take out my kit and start to cut....

As the blood runs down my arm
I can feel myself becoming calm.
In my head, I can hear them saying
just keep going and no telling!

I know that these thoughts are sometimes irrational,
but that doesn't stop me from taking them as factual.

Every night,
Tears fill my eyes.
I don’t want to fight
And I can’t continue these lies!

My mind goes numb
And the damage is done.
I lift the gun
Then I see the sun.

Just take me for what I am
Useless qualities and all
Don't decide how I should be.
Get to know every part of me.
Escape from negative thoughts,
Marginalization
Expectations from society.
No one but you can decide
To see beauty instead of imperfections.

Don't let yourself become a bully
All of us should stand together.
Yesterday is gone but we can try to be better tomorrow.

Life’s not like how it used to be,
When you’d go outside and climb a tree
then fall over and scrape your knee.
You’d get back up and dust yourself off.
Look around for your next adventure
Until the street lights turned on
Signalling it’s time for dinner.

Now heads are buried in screens
Making sure everybody is isolated.
Kids no longer have laughs outside
Screaming and crying if the internet dies.

I wish we could go back to how life used to be.
To show the kids of today all the possibilities.
That not everything is found in a screen,
all they need to do is dream.
The possibilities are truly endless
If only they wanted to see.

Roaring cars outside that can barely be heard above the noise in my head.
Beautiful colours all around that can't be appreciated because of the tears in my eyes.
Friends having fun whilst I lie in my bed.
I keep on telling them lies.
I need to find myself
before I fall into this

Deep

Deep

abyss

The words refuse to come out
getting all twisted and tangled about.
I wish I could speak what was in my mind
but we never sit and take the time.

I want to share these stories with you
whilst we take a walk and look at the views.
Slowly wander down this winding path
if only I could make it last.

I feel you fading and drifting away from me  
making me realise what you meant to me.
It’s too late now for me to go back
and with that my heart begins to crack.

I can't seem to catch my breath
it's always one step ahead
Slipping through the cracks of the walls
whilst I'm stuck to the floor.
My thoughts dance around and around,
summoning the rain cloud that looms above my head.
I want to get better but I don't see how
as my eyes have added a constant filter to the world,
allowing me only to see the bad.
I wish that someone could come and save me from myself.

Pain, it's such a strange thing.
It can make us feel so many different things but also nothing.
I constantly question myself as to how that's possible. To one second feel complete agony but the next, nothing.
How can a feeling have such control over each and every one of our bodies in such different ways?

Although, pain isn't always bad.
Pain can be used to show us that we are still alive!
That we can still feel.
It can show us we are in control.... or perhaps it just likes to let us think that.

Sometimes you have no idea it's coming.
One day you can be completely happy and content with your life then,
CLICK!
Your world is turned upside down.

There doesn't have to always be a trigger
sometimes it's like it just enjoys taking over your body
making sure you feel nothing but pain and sorrow.
There is no escaping it.
It is excruciating.
It is numbing.
It is all around.

Poetry is a release,
of all emotion and thoughts.
Poetry is a safe place,
to escape from all.
Poetry is freedom,
to speak your mind.

Poetry is subjective,
different to each person.
Poetry is forgiving,
you need not be good.
Poetry has no favourites,
it is a friend to all.

I hide behind this pseudonym,
It protects me from judgement.
No praise, nor complaint can reach me
when I hide behind this pseudonym.

I can use the words however I wish
With no concern for how they reflect on me.
This pseudonym allows me to speak my mind,
the words just flowing as I slowly unwind.

This pseudonym is a part of me
The parts that I don’t always allow to be seen.
My friends and family might not understand
But part of me doesn’t want to be found.

It’s my choice who sees these words
My choice who hears these thoughts
My choice who learns of this little pseudonym
Who always stands to protect what’s within.

Tossing and turning, I lie awake.
1 AM..... 2 AM.....
Eyes heavy yet refuse to shut
3 AM..... 4 AM.....
My mind just won't. Give. Up.
5 AM..... 6 AM.....
The light and sounds of birds start to creep in
7 AM..... 8 AM......
and it's too late.
Not long and it will be time to repeat.

Push.  

Push.

Push.

The weight collapses on top of me.
A haze blinding from all directions.
Steps slow as if wading through mud.

Breath escapes in little bubbles as if I’m drowning.
Thoughts flying and seeds being planted.

I’m searching, searching, searching for that rope to pull me out.
I only hope it withstands this weight and saves me from this horrible fate.

Some people,
Unknown to those around them,
Isolate themselves from the world.
Causing them to have so many thoughts,
Ideas they can't control
Decisions running through their head.
Eventually, they decide it's easier to just, end it.

If tears could speak would they be quiet whispers, barely audible? Or LOUD CRASHES with every splash on the skin?
Would they sing you a sad melody or tell a story to draw you in?

If tears could write would they tell of lost loved ones or simply a fight? Would they recall battles with others or just from within?

But, tears cannot speak, nor write, they simply fall. They create a path of their own choosing. Silently slipping down your face.  Yet they are so loud in your mind that you constantly wonder….
What if a tear could speak?

The moon stands still in the night sky.
Stars dancing as they catch my eye.
Looking left
                   Looking right
There is no movement in the dead of night.
Slowly time ticks by,
and yet I find myself unmoved.
Transfixed by the calmness of the night.

All I feel is sadness, anger and pain.
It's really beginning to drive me insane.

Sometimes I start to cry,
and no, I don't know why.

People want to understand
and take me by their hand.

They say it's going to be okay.
Turns out that's all they can say.

In some ways I guess I’m looking for validation.
Having peers and even strangers give me confirmation,
That my thoughts and ideas bring some sort of gratification.

I’m slowly learning to just do what brings me joy.
With little thought or questions for how it will be received.
If I can read it through and feel it truly conveys me,
Then that’s all I want to achieve

I can feel them.
Banging! On the big steel wall.
Their sounds are muffled never quite taking shape.

I press my ear right up close
to see if I can    just.        get.         one.
One little breakthrough and I know it will break the dam.

My frustration is building,
because I have these ideas,
but that means nothing,
when I can’t get them down.

Words don’t fit together right.
Or translate the way that I’d like.
There’s this massive block within my mind.
I wish I could just make it say goodbye.

The fog slowly slips away as I figure out what to say.
Putting pen to paper or voice to words to ensure that I. AM. HEARD.

Though this vice may be small,
I have hopes that I can reach you all.

Don’t be scared of what people think. Let your words fly not sink!

You are beautiful!
You are loved!

But most of all ….

You are ENOUGH.