Little people understand what it is like to suffer mental issues. They do not realize what it is like to go out with friends and to constanly remind yourself that you can not forget to smile because that might caught suspision.
They wonder why people drink to forget or why they don’t just get help. Or question the ability of people to actually hurt themselves.
I think that’s a good thing, there is no reason to understand this.
Having a constant real smile on your face is a good thing, not having to worry about people thinking you’re not ok because you are.
They can drink for fun because there is nothing they need to forget and they always have someone to turn to. Best of all they don’t understand how someone can be so desperate to feel that they would hurt themselves…

I think that’s brilliant. Without a little ignorance, this world would be a total wreck.
Thank God for ignorance, it’s what keeps the happy alive.

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me
How true is it when words are what are keeping you awake at night
How true can it be when your constanly worried about society
Why not say the truth and admit
Words cut deeper than knives themselves
Weapons **** and words do too
Thats why will live in a world full of violence
Because the simple words we say
We listen and we let the words cut deep
So why arent insults banned when guns are
Why is it that words are what make us drink those handfuls of pills
Or tie that rope to die
A gun is just a simple weapon because words can **** too
So yes sticks and stones may break my bones but words will **** me

take a look at the first thing next to you
now imagine it but a hundred times brighter (all the time)
if life is a glass of water sometimes i wake up and it's filled with caffeine instead
to keep me running faster than i want it to
there always has been a spark in my eyes that wasn't natural
no one's quite sure where it's from but i used to think it was a superpower
i used to think not sleeping for days was a superpower too
it can be scary if you feel like a puppet that's forced to kick and hurt and attack
it can be scary if you can't make yourself stop
it can be scary if fun isn't fun anymore but danger
it can be scary when you're fragile
it's like a bubble in which there are no boundaries
the world has no boundaries there's only me and my ideas
and i seem to be way better than i'm supposed to
how can you stop when there's so much left to do?
(even if afterwards it won't be)
the world is bright and colorful now but it can go back to greys anytime
it won't go to neutral colors (it never does)
you can't shut it down if the "it" is you, if the "it" is what you're up against
if the "it" is constanly challenging you to go faster better faster faster faster
"it" is so fragile if you stop it for a moment there may be no coming back
there are so many fun things intense things death can be just one of them if you don't control "it" soon enough

when caitlin snow first got her powers in flashpoint she had to stop them
i always had a superpower and it will always have to be stopped

take a look at yourself in the mirror
now imagine yourself but a hundred times brighter (all the time)
if i'm a good person sometimes i wake up and i'm a goddess instead
(what can i be if not godlike if it feels like there's nothing that could possibly stop me?)
there's always been times when i felt like i left my old self to come back stronger and happier
i don't know if there's a happy because every single time i felt truly happy it was an illusion that doctors called "a chemical imbalance"
if i can dress up and be a new me who can dress like this who can do this
but if you'd stopped me i could be angry
(i don't know an angry me, i always forget her)
so i have a calm kind of angry-an angry where no one and nothing else can be touched or hurt but i can
when i was confused about sexuality websites were calling it "hypersexuality"
it can only be a superpower if i see lights and flashes others don't
it can only be a superpower if people i'm in love with have a halo over them
it can only be a superpower if i seem to stop the cars around me when i run through the street
if someone whispered "high risk, too impulsive" i thought fun and passion
the thoughts going through my mind always seem amazing
and i wonder if the people who've written the bible felt like this
if they did, i'm happy for them
i can never forgive myself for things i've done
(not sins, i'm too envious of people who are faithful)
but i guess it's not, not if there's a spark in my eye that can disappear, only on certain conditions

one of the last things on the wikipedia page for bipolar disorder
are the suicide statistics

My life consist of complex inginueity striving to be original but molding to the harshness of what the world is doing to me. Am i wrong for contemplating my lifes decisions. Because this isnt the way things where suppost to come out in my own depiction on the out come of my life. Maybe its my thoughts that are making me insane since i constanly think all i am is trash but theres a saying one persons trash is another treasure not sure if weather to believe it or not because woman come and go i just dont measure up to the dream guy. Maybe its my icebox heart that lets them see the coldness in my eyes gazing into theres filling false hopes of prosper and love each seem to be lies. Just to watch them break down in tears with no remorse when i see them cry since id rather not catch feelings being to scared to see where true love coulf take me honestly i dont know why. Im screaming in rage from the inside like im traped in a four corner room staring at walls hyperventilating unable to get out im balled up  feeling trapped im at a loss. Maybe you the reader cant understand what i mean maybe you can i feel like my life has been a bunch of ups and downs more downs then ups i was just a accidental nut that swam into the womb since my fathers pull out game wasnt fast enough now im stuck with the harsh reality of a cold world that beats me down after i get back up when will enough be enough maybe i need to find love and stop trying to hide the void wheres my diamond in the rough maybe I'm thinking again to much enough is enough

Departures and Arrivals.
The dust hasn't yet settled on the torn up trail behind me.
Particles still linger in my hair, my teeth and in the air
around me like they own me.
I wonder, even though it seems like I've dearly departed, if it
will ever settle and  I don't necessarily expect it to because
maybe it has to sock it to me
so no sweet amnesia can shew away the memories of what it was
that got me here to this place of growing respect for all the
potholes and all the unpaved roads.

Driving in the dark tree monsters slide bye one after the other,
their silent dialogue giving me the shivers like so many other
things in the world do,
cold sweat running down my face as the  car rattles and  the
music stops and there's only the sound of dripping rain. Tears,
like rain aren't separate  from  sweat.
They're constanly recycling  and bleeding into one another like
night bleeds into day. I get that and I even love that because where
does hardship go if  not to tears?

Stuffing grief into the cracks of the bodymind is a recipe for sick. I get
that too. People may tell ya to take a pill, have a swig, do anything to
bully your discomfort away but you sense
and you know that you sense and only you can sense what it is you
have to do. So you keep on going because what has drinking  the
sweet numbing  Koolaide ever done for ya anyway?

And it's a relief to come out of the comatose to watch the rose-gold
sunrise coming up over your landscape as your gears shift on the
broken hill of this awakening;
laser sharp beams of light gutting the nonsense out of ya, your feet
touching down onto solid  ground  and you feeling shaky but all
aglow in your skin
and this departure is telling every cell in your body that you have arrived.
There will be other departures and other arrivals, other days and other
nights but for now,
in this moment you have arrived and you don't give a **** about and
you're almost grateful for the dust and the  particles and the freaky
and the the not so freaky  fallout hovering over ya like a halo

1/2020

Sometimes I'm amazed by things people say.
But then again.
I've said some stupid things.
But to constanly do it again and again.
Only means, I'm livin' in a world of idiots.

We know lies gets twisted around.
That they sounds like truth.
We know the smartest people acts dumb.
To the point that they rub off on you.
That only proves your point.
We're livin' in a world of idiots.

From regular folks to politicians.
We're livin' in a world of idiots.

We know that those with the business sense.
Sometimes operates around false pretense.
It's just the pressure they are under.
They got to answer to the stockholders.

These are the ones that states they care.
Until their stocks begins to fall down.
Then again you know.
We're livin' in the world of fools.
Who hadn't met one of them too?

We're surrounded by them.
From every direction.

Every time I look now gotta say it bothers me
constanly following what they wanna be-
Fake news feeding fuel to a world not for me
And i feel l like we been doomed since we started thee -
Nation with liberation for generations
We're always placing-
on top of a pedestal There they go -
making us feel vulnerable With metaphors
"You're free" but you have to pay them more -
Cuz we're insecure covering what they arent looking for, Who would know -
we would come to this?
Brainwash the poor while the rest get filthy rich -
People getting sick
the hospitals won't let them in -
Without falling into debt before you can settle in -
Even the reveren gets a cut -
When you're praying to the ones above -
They demonized what we feel inside too many lies, I feel its time -
We realize they made us pay till the end of time. .control.

beyond the lights
beneath the music
i see an angel
who sings my song
i constanly wait
on a shooting star
just so i can wish
to hear that song again

this body isn't a temple
if anything it's a church that catholics have sworn is haunted
by years of whispers and catcalls and screams
it's a house that has never been truly beautiful or taken care of
with broken windows and scratched walls
that kids run away from and shudder while passing by it and wonder if anyone lives there
it's a mask that has been marked by an illness that's symbolised by masks
it was marked by commands that were never quite done
if it was a color it would be a dark old grey
if it was a sound it would be a weak quiet whimper
it's a source of fun when i used to be "up"
it's a source of fear any other time
it's something that i've been always told could never truly belong just to me
that i'm supposed to give it to someone, not too soon but not too late
but not to someone with curves and long hair and soft features and
if someone did get it first he would get forever because that's what was decided years ago so it has to true, right?
if anything it was always supposed to be ran by rules and lines that could never be crossed
if anything it's a word said years ago still stuck somewhere in my mind forcing itself closer to my thoughts, so i can remember it as if it's tattoed on my hand, with me every second
if anything it's a force that's constanly trying to be the most important but never can be, not quite
if anything it only ever works the way it was supposed to when the chemicals in my brain don't work the way they were supposed to
if anything it feels like it will never be worshipped, loved, adored how could it be when it's not a magnificent castle but an old house that's falling apart
if anything it feels like it doesn't deserve to be good so it's not
if anything it's like a meeting so bad that i don't ever want to leave, a conversation so bad i don't ever want to really end it, a material so bad that i won't ever completely rip it
if anything, it's mine

Surrounding me was a hurricane
of pain, sadness, and anger.
There I stood, trapped in the eye,
engulfed in numbness, emptiness, and static.
My only escape was through the torrent of agony around me.

Many times, I tried to escape that silent sea of grey by fighting my way through the walls of my prison, hoping against hope to break through and find joy on the other side,
But I became lost in the raging torment and was forced to return to my cell.

Many times, simply wanting to feel something other than the dullness that had become my reality, I grit my teeth, and force myself into the swirling void of misery, to feel pain once more. Until the torture was unbearable and I retreated to the emotionless abyss.
I needed the pain to remind me that I was still alive.

Many times, when the pace of the traveling storm quickened, I was forced to run to remain within the calm nothingness, but I continued to trip and fall back into the darkness and pain until I could regain my step.
Then, I pressed on, at the mercy of the unforgiving cyclone.

I lived like this for what seemed like an eternity.
Until one day.

The wind slowed, slightly, I saw a beam of light for a fraction of a fraction of a second.
It was gone all too soon, and now I am left to constanly search my heart and mind for that one thing that may calm this storm and free me from

my prison,

my hurricane.

i wish someone could tell me why
i feel this way
like im constanly
falling
deeper
and deeper
into this abyss
but i never crash
im just
f
  a
    l
      l
        i
          n
            g

but­ at least it doesnt hurt as much
since i left my heart
atop the cliff

I am in sorrow
In the middle of grieving
The tears are constanly flowing
My heart is sinking

My brain lost its function
Internal organs? I cleary lost thought
How can this be?
Why didn't you choose me?

I'm losing the will to live
It's better to die
You are mt oxygen, my soul
It's better to die if you decline me

Too afraid to admit
I am a coward and this is cowardice
Became a prisoner of overthinking
Trying to escape this cell that i've lived in

The only steady thing in this world is the fire in yourself--
A burning, constanly flickering flame refusing against all odds to die out
You are here
You are burning