He hits me here and there leaving bruises left and right
he does these things day and night
He is coerce with me
Making me do things I don't like
I cry myself to sleep with the pain erupting in my heart
I was in love with this boy but he turned into a monstrous man
I can't no longer be with this guy
Or I'm going to die

I give up on my life
The school I go to day by day
I'm just going to drop out
And go on my way
I don't care what people are going to say
I give up on this ****, I quit
I just don't care anymore
I'm done with this
I know I will become homeless
And go live on the streets
I know that I give up on everything
I give up on my family
Then my friends
I give up on ny life and want it to end So I guess ill just go ahead and **** myself
Goodbye friend

I have a lot in my life that I care about so
but I hate my life still as I did long ago
I'm still insecure
a worthless person you should say
I wish I could end my life and fade away

All the thoughts flow,
through the ink of my pen
onto the paper of my notebook.
Gracefully,
like a dove
soaring across the sky.
The words i leave are special to me
though they may not seem like it for you.
Each word is a snap shot of my heart
and together they create a story.
i let my thoughts fly free
and onto the paper they fall.
They spill out into the world
to be found and maybe enjoyed
by the people who happen to stumble upon it.
but no matter what people think
i will keep writing.
writing is my passion,
its how i express myself.
The pen is my tool
and the words i leave have meaning
there is truth within every letter.
whether my words are light or dark,
they can be beautiful if i chose

You don't get to pick your ending,
your ending picks you.

Do not store up for
yourself
treasures on earth.
Material things will fade.
But
You better be grateful for these
fading things.
Especially because you are so
blessed
with everything that isn't supposed to
matter.

And maybe
you're alone.
And maybe
you cry yourself to sleep at night.
But
You better be thankful
because
your stomach is full and
you have a warm bed to
cry I mean sleep
in.

Why
are these
fading
things the mark of the “blessed”?
Why
aren't we allowed to be anything
but
grateful?
I mean thank God for this new outfit
but
for my birthday I would like a
friend.
And
I am so grateful for that delicious Sunday dinner
but
what I wouldn't give to find some
happiness
under the Christmas tree.

All sarcasm aside
thank God
for everything I am blessed with.
But
if material things don't matter
I am poor
starving
hopeless
deprived.
A little love,
please?
Any spare happiness for my
beggar's cup?
But
I'm not allowed to say that.
Because I am so
blessed
with these things that don't matter.
And don't I dare ask for
love
because I already have
so much nothing.

Cross my heart and hope to die,
I'd rather be
starving and loved
than
starving for love.

Sadness.
How is that portrayed?
My childhood has taught me
that sadness
is merely tears and privileges taken away.
A face turned 8:20.
A tantrum.
"Boo-hoo".
But that's not at all what sadness looks like.
Sadness has bright eyes,
warm rosey cheeks,
and a perfect smile
plastered on its face.
Sadness is that girl that always smiles
but never talks
because of the fear she'll say something
not important enough to hear.
Sadness is that boy that always acts
like he's too cool for anyone
but in reality is dying for a real friend.
Sadness
can be anyone
at anytime.
And all it's trying to find
is a reason to really smile.
To be like happiness
instead of fake it.
That's sadness.

HELP!
Anyone!
Please! If anyone,
anyone at all, is reading this:
H
E
L
P
My thoughts,
they aren't my own!
It's a contagious disease
only caught by those
with cracks in their being.
A sickness far beyond our science.
Something that has not yet found a cure.
It eats me up
starting from the inside
and showing on the out.
This depressing veil is worn
everyday.
I forget
who
I
am.
And while the question is out there;
who really are you?
Yes, you.
You there!
How do you know you're not infected?
Infected with the crazy urge to think
that I'm not good enough,
that I'm not worth it,
that no one would care if I were alive!
No.
I'm done thinking that.
This darkness that corrupts my sight,
this cloud that fogs my thinking,
this pain in my heart;
no more of it.
If no one will help me
then I'll help myself.
I'll be my own salvation.
Because this disease
will
not
beat
me.
Demons are said
they cannot be drowned,
but I plan to soar
on wings like eagles.

A love story.
By God knows who.

Dramatic music
completed with a bold title.
It starts with the "average" two people that don't know each other.
One moves into town and is new,
while the other one shows them around.
They get to know each other pretty well,
fall in love
and then find themselves lost and confused
by spread of rumors
or bad timing-- a set up as some say.

But after all's said and done
love warms their hearts once again.
Only to be sealed with true love's first kiss
as everything fades to black.

Or at least,
that's how movies make it look like.

But let's be real.
That's a love story?
Please.
You don't just stumble across your Prince Charming.

It's about getting together with fools,
heart breaks that seem to last forever,
and maybe
once in a few hundred years
you'll find someone who gets you.
Someone who seems perfect;
but in reality
has defects.

Don't get me wrong,
love is a wonderful thing but take a word of advice?
Stop living in a fantasy.

Because, the problem with fairy tales
is that they set a girl up for disappointment.
When in real life, the Prince goes off
with the wrong Princess.

I start
with one or two
just for the rush.
Pop another three
for the hell of it.
Sneak four more
to cloud my mind
as an excuse for
what
         I've
                done.
But justice as they say;
is swift.
And just like that
I'm gone.
My life taken
by the sweet,
powdered taste
of half inched sized pills
only conducted
because of the justice
my thoughts said the world
needed.