I drown my focus to my shoes. Slamming up and down against the pavement, left right,left right,left right. I finally look up,
terror overwhelms my body. I start to shake uncontrollably, walking faster and faster. Trying to get there unnoticed, but I contract a heavy limp. Walking alone,terrified. I arrive at my destination.

My shaking legs are starting to feel to weak
to hold up my sweat covered body.
My head starts to spin when I realize how dangerously fast my heart rate is.
My breathing increases,kind of like a panting dog trying to cool down.
Which is what I need to do, it feels as if my blood is boiling. My mouth as dry as a dessert and my eyes feel like matches in my head.

But instead of feeling better I keep feeling worse. I look around quickly then back at my shoes. Just that slight movement made me feel as if I was going to faint. I look up as I'm called upon, my heart racing faster. I stumble over to the counter. Where my fear looks me strait in the eye. She says how may I help you today. Awkwardly studdering, I state my business and do what needs done.

I then run away, and rush back to my car. My eyes locked to the ground avoiding eye contact with anyone. I reach my car and sit down to slow my heart rate, then race back home. The only place I feel safe.

I wanna write a poem that takes your breath away.
I wanna write a song that brings you to tears.
I wanna write a story of our love.
I wanna write something to cause that beautiful smile.
I wanna find the words to describe just how much you mean to me.
I wanna write something you'll cherish.
I wanna write something to bring back those first date butterflies.
I wanna write a poem for your beauty.
I wanna write a song about my happiness.
I wanna write a story of my love towards you.
I wanna write to you,but I can't.
I wanna learn how to write when I'm happy.
Because all I wanna do is write to you.

A long hesitant breath
A brief moment of eye contact
A soft grin
As hands softly collide
Gently caressing one another
As grins turn to smiles
And eyes of passion
Turn to eyes of seduction
A slow arch of the back
An even slower
Stretch of the neck
A pucker of lips
As the stretch increases
For lips to meet beautifully
And passionately
Hearts sinking
Butterfly wing flapping
Sparks flying
Living in a moment of bliss
Caught in the kiss

Depression isn't what you think
It isn't laying in bed crying
Its laying in bed starring,
At the ******* walls
With the same hurt on your mind
But not one tear will fall
Because your to numb
To let anything out

Depression isn't what you think
It isn't something your daily routine
Can get rid of,
Its walking around emotionless,
Like your immune to life.
It's letting the sadness build up,
Not laughing at jokes,
And having to drag yourself
Just to make it through the day.

Depression isn't what you think
It isn't wishing for,
The sadness to end.
Its wishing for your life to end.
Its taking a razor blade,
Across your wrist,
Maybe you're thigh
To numb the pain.

Depression isn't what you think
It isn't talking to your friends,
So they can cheer you up.
It's having no friends,
Because you shut everyone out,
So no one else can hurt you.
It's better to have no one
Then someone that can help.

Depression isn't what you think
It's an emotional shut down
It removes you from life
It eats at your mind
Destroying you mentally,
And physically,
Until there is nothing left.

If I wrote a poem,
Just to get your attention.
Would it?
If I could find the words,
To define your beauty
And how much I'm attracted...
To you.
Would you appreciate the gesture?
If I wrote about,
How you make me happy...
Would you be happy about it?
If I wrote about never hurting you,
Like some people in your past have done.
Would that change your view on relationships?
If I wrote about the fact,
That I honestly do really like you.
Would you think about it?
If I wrote about,
wanting a chance.
Would you consider giving me one?
If i just let you read this,
Would you reflect on it?

We are the poets,
A mass army
Of tortured souls
Writing about our suffering
In hope to gain
peace of mind
When in actuality
The world is our torturer
And we are nothing but the victims
Writing of our experiences,
Putting words together,
Perfectly,
Into a mass
Of meaningless lines
To entertain
The ones who cause
Us to pick up the pen
What is a poet
Without a broken mind
And a damaged heart
Well, nothing but
A horrible writer
attempting to
Rhyme verses
And put together stanzas
In hope to get the
View from the world
A true poet
Is not sane
They have no belief
"Sanity" exists
They are outcasts,
Not normal
to the eyes
Of the world
But a person
More beautiful
on the inside
than a poet,
Does not exist
Poets have been
Driven past
Their breaking point
Pushed until
The damage done
Was far beyond repair
We are the poets
A mass army
Of tortured souls
Fighting a war
Of cruelty
enflicted by
The human heart
Hoping our words
Can bring peace
To the people
Who can't find peace
Within their selves

Don't judge me by that
I am not a *** head
But i will smoke on occasion
And i have found out
That in fact ****, is my best friend
After one hit,
I'll crack a smile
After the weeks I've been frowning
From this constant depression
After two hits,
Even the commercials on TV make me laugh
When i haven't been able to find humor in anything
After three hits,
I become hungry
Even though i haven't had an appetite
For a very long time
After four hits,
I feel a sudden lightness
Finally relieving me
Of all the sadness and stress weighing me down
After five hits,
I find confidence in myself
And do anything
It feels good to stop hiding behind others
After six hits,
I'll start to sing and dance
And i don't care who sees me
After seven hits,
I feel like superman
Even though my body's always drained
After eight hits,
I realize I'm somebody
Even though the world makes me feel like I'm nobody
After nine hits,
I get a little crazy
And don't care about "following the rules"
After ten hits,
I forget about all the pain
I have in my heart
And after its all gone
I fall asleep quickly
And stay asleep
After being awake for days
So yes,
**** is my best friend.