Take a photograph
It'll be the last
Not a dollar or a crowd could ever keep me here
I don't have a past
I just have a chance
Not a family or an honest plea remains to say

Rain, rain
Go away
Come again another day
All the world is waiting for the sun

Is it you I want
Or just a notion of
A heart to wrap around so I can find my way around
Safe to stay from here
We're getting closer now
We are never sad because we are not allowed to be

Rain, rain
Go away
Come again another day
All the world is waiting for the sun
Rain, rain
Go away
Come again another day
All the world is waiting for the sun

To lie here under you
Is all that I will ever do
To lie here under you is all
To lie here under you
Is all that I will ever do
To lie here under you is all

Rain, rain
Go away
Come again another day
All the world is waiting for the sun
Rain, rain
Go away
Come again another day
All the world is waiting for the sun
All the world is waiting for the sun
All the world is waiting for the sun

She assured me
That she knew her limit,
But it didn't take long
Until she drank herself
Into total oblivion
Out cold on the floor
With dried tears on her cheeks.
She tries to drown
Her demons in *****
But she tends to forget
That alcohol ...
Only makes them stronger.

That's the one I was talking about
When he broke your heart and your only escape was the keyboard?
I was listening
I'm being the best brother I can
But we've all got hiccups
And the choppy waters never end

The best we can do is to wait for
Landfall and hold onto hope until the world swallows us
Again and makes us into something new
But I see an awakening for you
In these coming months
So please, don't let go

I couldn't tell you
how many poems I've read
about girls in disguises,
girls hiding in their closets,
girls acting like girls,
wishing they were something more...

This is not a poem about wishing,
but a poem of being.
This is not a cry for help,
but a song of assurance.
I am a girl, but I am no feminist.

You won't find me painting
on makeup each morning
for confident clarity.
{red blemishes flourish}

You won't find me tearing
my feet up each night
to look tall and fancy.
{bruises on the heel}

You won't find me wearing
a red push-up bra
for emotional support.
{endless back pain}

You won't find me shaking
while holding a gun
for protection.
{fear is stupidity}

I couldn't tell you
how many girls I've seen
doing these things,
over and over;
girls wishing they were something more...

This is not a poem about hope,
but a form of being.
This is not a scream of pity,
but an equalist view.
I am a girl, but I am no feminist.

I choose to be myself,
despite the boys who call me odd;
despite the girls with envious eyes.
I choose to play video games at 2am
and eat until I feel sick.
I choose to wear band tees to the bar
and go home alone.
I choose to say what I mean
and suffer the consequences.
I choose to wear less clothes,
and sometimes more,
when I want.

I've found someone
who loves me for who I am.
I've found two people, in fact.

There is a boy
who comes over
and I can call him my love;
I can call him my best friend.
There is a boy
who never judges
the boy in me;
the things I do.
There is a boy
who reminds me
a lot of a girl,
who picked flowers with her mom
when she was little.

And sometimes,
I put on makeup for you,
because I love you,
and I want you to know I'm proud.
Sometimes,
I'm proud of myself,
because I got the eye liner just right.
And sometimes,
I like acting fragile
so I can do less work
and watch as you tire in sweat.
Sometimes,
I even shout my worries to the sky.
But moderation is so important
in a time so rigid
with lust.

There is a girl
who is me,
and that boy
and that girl
both know who I am.

I am sick of complaints;
I am sick of the 1950's attitude;
I am sick of excuses;
I want to see action;
and I don't mean a protest.

And maybe you like
being a girl.
Maybe you dress up
purely for yourself,
and no one else.
But that doesn't explain
the things that you say
in public and in retrospect,
as tears fall down your cheek,
and knives glide off your tongue.

I see more of it every day --
girls just like me.
You are only weak if
you believe that you are.
You are only a girl
if you think that you are.
I am a human being,
and so are you.

I am no feminist.

(This isn't a poem so don't even bother)
Because here's the deal
I hate it when I want to write about things that scare me, my fears, my past
And I have to be worried that people on here will read it and wonder if I'm okay? Wonder if I need help, feel pity towards me? I don't know if they would
Because I promise you all I am somehow 10x stronger because of the **** that's gone down
And maybe it's not that much ****, but it's a lot to me
A lot to recreate how I think, move, feel, sense
I just want to be able to talk about this and not get those stares like "oh my god this girl must be messed up because of that. She must be depressed or something"
I know what depressed is
I know what cutting is
I know anxiety is
But that's not me
That's a girl who got lost
Very lost.
She isn't and never will be me. Ever.

I hate how I think I'm better off
And I end up ******* myself
I hate how almost every memory of sophomore year is painful.
Some are beautiful pains
And some are dark dark pains.
I hate how I have to filter myself on this site
I hate how I'll write something and end up deleting the whole thing because what's the point of posting something on private of I'm the only one who will read it.
I hate how I can love people so much,
So so much
But I end up hardening up about it
Speechless and slightly ******
I hate how no one will actually read this, or if they do they won't read it slowly
I hate how I'm using hate because I don't think I truly hate anything except sin and evil.
I want sunshine and stupid cliche picnics and board games and skating and everything I say I'll do but never end up doing
And I can't say I love you to anyone enough to express god I love you
And I'm sorry you haven't heard it
And I promise I'll work on it

Depression is a monster that no one seems to understand.
He creeps into your mind whenever he deems necessary.
You lay in bed at night, engulfed in thoughts, yearning for just one tidbit of sleep.
That’s when he slips in right beside you.
He stares back at you with a menacing grin, knowing that you have absolutely no way of escaping.
You feel powerless, lost, alone, and worthless. You want to fight back with all your might, but he knows that overpowering you is just too easy.
That’s when you realize that there’s only one option left for you, that is, let him take over.

He hands you a shovel and you start digging.
A deep dark abyss into nothingness.
A place where no one can hear your cries.
A place where no one else dwells, you’re just there, all alone.
He feeds you with thoughts that you’re engrained to accept.
You’re worthless.
You’re unlovable.
You’re destined for nothing but failure and misery.
You stare back at him, weak and tired.
Your eyes tell a story of hopelessness and plea. ‘Why me,’ you ask, so faintly and numb.
But again, he just looks back at you with a dark and feverish stare.
You know better than to ask questions.

Days come and go.
Yesterday the same as today, likely to be a do over again tomorrow.
You dream of something memorable.
Someone or something to rescue you from this hopeless fate.
A hand to reach out, grasp yours so firmly, with promise to never lose grip.
A weak smile emerges from your lips.
A slight glistening in your bright blue eyes. Maybe the day has come.
The day you have always dreamed of.
The day of escape. The day of freedom.
Oh silly you.
The monster doesn’t give up so easily.
Here he comes, returning once again.
You may slip by for hours, days, maybe even weeks.
But swiftly he emerges right back by your side. There’s one thing that you know that will always remain true.
The monster will never lose control of you.

It's 3am*
When will I be okay?
It'll get better they say
I've just gotten more comfortable with my stay