times are tough
the pathway we walk is rough.
the sun is setting.
and there is no telling
if we'll ever see the shine again.

but at least you are still there
i can always feel you care
even tho i let my own head
leave me crying and feeling like im dead.

and i know you care.
the pain you, yourself, feel
the pain is something you and i share.
we scream and scream and scream.
and hope that one day, we live our dream
to be rid of the demons
running rampid in our minds
we run and run and run,
in hope that terror never finds.

so my dear,
i wrote this poem for you.
because you and i share the same fear.
a fear so deep & frightening,
our thoughts strike like bolts of lightning.

this poem is about understanding.
and that is what i hold for you,
since you are just like me.
your head is cold, heavy and blue.
through we may not be at the same place,
dont forget our monsters nearly have the same face.

you are special, my love
and to believe that in yourself, is hard to do.
just like a bird, your heart is caged.
take the caged dove,
set it by the window sill
let it follow its own will
and let it fly free,
trust me when i say i know how you hurt,
you are just like me.

I am so confused as of late
How do I clean this slate?
Tears run rampid down my face
I have lost my own space
In my emotions I fumble
The voices in my head rumble
There has to be something wrong
Because I never seem to belong

Open your eyes,

The world has been calling.

Inviting you to its sweet awakening.

Open your eyes,

It's colors bending.

Not working in the reality of physics.

To run rampid in the sky,

Just open your eyes.

scared. alone. being thrown into an environment that you aren’t even the slightest bit familiar with is ******* scary. all you want is a bear hug from your best friend but she is dealing with her own personal pain. you’re totally alone. you’re panicking silently on the bathroom floor, crammed in a corner, pressing your head against your knees trying to stop shaking, digging your fingernails in the back of your neck trying to get your mind off the stress and anxiety. nothings working. those thoughts and words of rejection and judgement run rampid through your mind. “you’re a failure” “you can’t do this” “you’re wasting your time trying” ”you’ll never be good enough” “they’re only being nice because they have to”. you start to think they’re right. maybe you should just get use to the fact that you’re going to end up alone, abandoned. “you aren’t important, no one’s going to accept you. maybe that’s just what destiny has in store for you. might as well realize that.” i guess it’s just you and yourself again. it’s a familiar feeling to you so it only takes you two seconds to realize that you’re back to the drawing board.

Craving for hunger
Wanting anything
Anything at all
To stop me from the thoughts
Running rampid in my head

all i want to do is sleep.
just for one night.
to sleep tight,
sleep soundly in my bed
with no thoughts
running rampid in my head.
i just want to sleep.
I wish i could
lay my head down
with dreams that are good.
not dreams that turn
into nightmares
and into my head they burn.
waking up me at midnight,
i wish i could fight
for the sleep i lack.
to sleep softly
in the deep dark black.
things get better
after a good night’s sleep.
i wrote in my last and final letter,
about all the nights i never slept
staying awake,
just sitting there and wept.

That icy cold grip that somehow makes your skin flush with warmth.
The power beneath you that keeps you steadily on the ground, but living on cloud nine.
The thoughts that let you rest peacefully are the same that keep your mind running rampid.
The word that has no real definition, but there seems to be 1000's of meanings.
You would do anything to keep it, but it let it go in a second if it meant saving it from collapsing.
It has no rational feelings, but they all make so much sense.
It is everything it is not.
So many songs, poems, books, movies, & paintings about it, but it still can't be captured.
It can cause euphoria & bliss, but tear your heart out & leave you for dead in a split second.
Love has many disguises, but only one true form.

I'm still that girl you knew
The one that skipped towards you
Only three and a half short years ago
Claps for all, you called me
Tear-stained cheeks from a broken heart
You swore to never do what he did and you said
I could have had my space if I wanted it
I just wanted to know you
You made me feel like I was loved
Like I was a treasure worth protecting
Like a sun to hold in the palm of your hand
So I said "okay" and let you love me
I grew to love you too, more than I ever
Ever thought was possible at the time
We drove around, kissed at traffic lights
Made new memories and adventured
You made me wonder why I had allowed
Allowed for myself to feel unloved
Our love grew like a ****, wild and rampid
We loved and loved and didn't fight
Until one day when we started
It had been a year or so without it
But once it started, it didn't totally end
No argument resolved, no problems closed
But I pushed on, I loved you still
I've loved you despite distance
I've loved you despite age
I've loved you despite every thing that should have pushed us apart
We don't agree on anything large
Not morals, religion, or priorities
We are falling into pieces, my heart aches
I'm bleeding and crying out for you to hear
But silence is all I have from your end
And we are still holding together by a string
You never told me that you were finished
And I'm too disheartened to say after three years
That even though I crave you like you're ******
That you're a large part of me
That you are the closest person to me
That I want to be by your side, to hear your deep voice, feel your heartbeat, smell your sweet musky cologne on my shirt after a long day,
I don't know how long I can do this
To place a band aid over our hurt
Only to rip it off come morning time

There goes my sanity
Watch it go down the drain
No reason to beat a dead horse
Or maybe that's the answer for today
My will to preserve gets in the way
These instincts are running rampid
I try to find hope, exerting myself
But nothing seems like it's working
Maybe I need to do God's will

Here I am a cursing like it's going out of style
Like I can't write without using a curse word
It feels so good using bad language
Maybe I can get my point across better
I wonder if God condemns for fowl language
I really don't believe he finds it offensive
If he does then I'm going to hell
Cause I can't stop saying how I feel

At least there is truth to what I write
It may not be the best but it's my thoughts
And nobody can tell me how I should think
No one has a right to say how I should feel
Too many people trying to poison me
Trying to tell me what I should believe
What gives them the right to take away my hope?
What gives them the right to take away my faith?

It's all driving me crazy...

Its easier to tell people I've just been staying up too late.
That I lost track of time in a book or a show or a song.
It's easier to say that I've been writing a lot or it was an accident,
the time, when I looked at the clock
But the waves I've been told are in my eyes, see no shore in sight. They crash against themselves restless and relentless begging for some substance, some rescue from their depth.
Its easier to say anything than to admit I am depressed.
My mouth offers those fragile words like a poor orphan lifts its trembling hands. And the cold bite these impoverished muscles have sustained beg for the warmth of rest.
But when I say I am depressed and I have thoughts, greedy scheming cackling and cunning figures that torment me yet are children of my anatomy. And I cannot stop them for they are chemical beings. The guards of my vaults turned to dust running rampid through my neurological waves transmitting.
It is easier to lie than say these things kept me up all night. Than to say I have a better friend in my ceiling and in my bed then I do with sad cathartic feelings in my head.
It is silent and I stare.
There is a lamp in the distance and it's glow feeds hope thin as a spiderweb to my conscious constant despair. As the hours pass and I become vengeful my fight between becoming more and less aware.
The unified splits and divides it pulls and separates, hemispheres left and right creating two alternative sides of me. There's one militant that says get up and one that just says no.
No because it is afraid, no because it is sorry, no because it has obeyed the skewed perception that it is guilty. She is scared, she is stained with ideas that do not match her character but she clings to them because they have clung to her and truth is a steady companion but her truth was not right.
The other half is the anger yelling "why the hell are you like this?" and " Life gets so much better, think of all the things you're going to miss." Or accusing her of being meek and frail for attention, slapping her face, pressing knuckles into her heart, she is strong with her air of condescension. Yet she is the little self love her mass can contain. Her motivation is harsh but it holds the other as it sobs cooing and assuring "it's okay".
It's easier to sleep all day and not deal with any of this than have to explain it to you when you ask. Majority of the time I am met with knives not of verbal speech but of ignorance, inept hands and averted eyes.
It's easier to put on a face and say it was just one time than have you walk past my tear stained cheeks refusing to offer comfort as I anticipate the night. You know yet you do nothing so I would rather keep you unaware.
Than tell you I'm depressed so when you let me down the blame is mine to bear.

Hi, to the girl in the mirror
surrounded by whispered thoughts that she cant bare to let near her
After 365 days born bare to 'its going to be okays'
Ive found myself here
Writing lines of listness sentiments
Conjured by nothing more than the kind of days that just
Push you forward
Look back and acknowledge the wars that have hit
The first words i ever truly spoke were written in verse that intend to awaken the feelings, intense and resided in the deepest pits my heart prefers to just hide behind
And i spoke
"Whose to prune whats wrecked by june a stable mental health",
Sequenced by the conscientious tribute to the idea that no one gives a **** till we are too far gone

And i acknowledged earlier that we check up on one another by means of regarding our emotional well being
But turning that depth into a casual convening is as degrading as conveying thoughts of have a good day in simile to i hope youre okay
But we all still turn a cold shoulder when individuals confess that theres more to their thoughts like ideals and sick plots

Revolving around means to an end...
Meaning to end, whatever means that it takes to mend the loose thread that threatens to unravel our minds
Ends that means the meaning will suspend and life will carry on as it was meant to be drawn with out the sick pictures and sadistic gunctures pinched in mental health

So last week i confessed that i dislike being asked how im feeling.
Its hard when it feels like my thoughts are worth hearing but theres scarcely a stage set to display the things in my mind
Its just a hello and good by
Never a look you like you cried
Is there something inside that youd like to get out
Via a hug or a shout
throw **** down and surround yourself in the darkest of spirals
The hands reached are set higher than you can step towards in your mind
The pain aches from your thighs
Dear god can u listen
Step mom,  dad turn to my glistening eyes

Yes id love to listen
Switch paths and condition yourself to adjust that deep yearning
The thoughts, feelings meant to keep earning the right to be listened to
Ill listen to you and pour my heart out
Gut my emotions like its light out and ive got nothing to lose
Nothing was dark in june
Or july
Or august to december
Theres nothing in my thoughts that could ever drag me below the ground

So open up to me now.
I love you, sweetheart of course its okay.

And another day
More words are spoken
ive taken 2 seconds to confess my thoughts to you and no i wont re write or re read this.
Im not gonna edit or adjust speed to this
Authentic expression of thoughts that i dont let get out very often its just
The path that has brought me to this is a sweet cocktail of fuckery that lays waste to my mind
But in the case that it resides with you i thought id reach out with a hymme or two a few stanzas of thoughts that run rampid in my mind

Consider yourself aquainted, with a portion of me.
A fraction of the depth i wish will succeed me
A successor to the results that the pressure ive endured has sent to me
I lay now and recite to you these words
Forget that youve ever heard it
Don't yearn for it just lie down
Rest your head and let me kiss your crown and your temples

If youve listened this far i want to wish that those wrinkles set above your eyes will fade ever softer because listen to these lines

I know you aren't always okay;
I am proud of you;
I can tell that youre trying very hard;
I appreciate you;
You are precious and deserve the rest that seems to just slip from your grip and flow straight down the sink grate that holds gate to your mind
Trickle down spine to your heart
So let me fill you up with the kind words that youre starving of

I know i cant compensate for everything that has past
Just as i know these poems are worth nothing more than the past few minutes ive spent writing them
So good night to me then
The girl in the mirror

Trying to find...
scrambled words in your mind...
release your fears...
show what's inside...

A collection of words...
run rampid and crazed...
Locked tightly within...
as your heart wears thin...

Words to say...
refuse to let go...
There is no rush...
Just take it slow...

believe in yourself...
it may help you grow...

similarities seen...
struggling for order...
you're not alone...
you have a supporter...
... Kelcee All

I run down David Avenue
I try to not stare at the attractions
They catch my eye, thrown off guard

I continue down Alan Street
Others keep posture as a chicken runs rampid
I feel like an intruder in a street of gold
What place is there for me here?

I turn down Jacob Road
Tourists seem to address it normally
But something tells me
There's a reason it's not a street

I waddle down Jayden Lane
The people seem so collected
They're official but comedic
They have a routine

I stride down Gage Drive
I seem to collect some composure
It's a barren place
Its simplicity leads to its charm

I start down Gabe Way
Now I seem to stand out positively
Although others can't remember
They observe every movement

I know that for how far down I may fall,
These paths return me to home
I rely on them
Homeless, they are my home
I need them

Thanks

Last Christmas.
Worst holiday ever.
No power or water.
Extreme cold.
Poor shelter.
A man without reason.
Stress beyond comprehension.
No chance to see clearly.
Survival was the only priority.
Lies and deceit rampid.
Confusion and fear.
Stealing and looting.
Sweet revenge.
Complete disrespect.
No turning back.
Childish behavior.
Hate and distrust.
No care for a good friend.
No responsibility for her safety,
Threatened and frightened,
She was pushed out the door,
He never said why.
Same **** as all of the times before
He found another *****.
Pushed to find shelter.
Lost in the sadness
Confused and alone.
He designed it that way.
He’s cold as a stone.
He’s ruthless and ugly.
He’s not worth my thoughts.
He took all my money
That’s all that he wants
He knows he’s  *****
IT IS HIS TIME TO PAY
For how he abused and ruined
My holiday.
I hate him for what he did to me.
Not because I want him, I don’t.
I told him that from the beginning,
He’s just a bad joke.
Don’t think it was ok
Or any my fault,
You were the one
The only one to blame
You designed it
Then ran it
****** with my head.
On purpose and planned
To hurt me
And l leave me for dead.
You did that to me
Your dearest friend
So you said.
Look over your shoulder.
Your time is here.
Nobody deserves It more.
I’ve designed this to hurt you.
You taught me yourself.
To be ruthless  
To stand up for myself.
You’ll respect me for sure.
You thought it was over.
You thought you were done.
You made every excuse
For your sickening abuse.
The end.
The end.