UntitledA friend has diedAnd many shall mournWe approach the funeral suffering and forlornBitter tears are falling all aroundAside this rain, there's but a soundThe shuffles of feetThe muffles of the sobsSome curse the bulliesSome curse GodWord after wordIt tore into her heartEating her awayUntil she broke apartNo one seemed to noticeAnd I don't think they caredMy best friend had diedShe wasn't preparedI lost a friendAnd she lost her heartBefore I knew it, it all fell apartThe rumors they spreadAnd her hatred did tooShe became a girl I know longer knewThe bitterness it spreadSo thick and so darkShe doesn't talk anymoreNot even her snide remarksSee, someone had diedBut others did tooBroken hearts all aroundOh, the tears how they flew.
MirrorsWhy is it when I call myself fatPeople comfort me?I didn't think loving my bodyWas a sad thing to doWhy is it when they call themselves skinnyEveryone applauds them?Sometimes they wish they were biggerBecause then they could fill everyone's eyes with wonderI learn not to hear these wordsWords that are like mirrorsTo reflect the flaws of my body to meBecause I know, one day, that mirror will shatterAnd if I hold on to those words which reflected my imageI'll end up cutting myself on the broken bits of "me"The insults I would have thrived uponInstead of chasing after the grand mirror,cutting myself on the would-haves and could-havesI'll invest in a new mirrorOne as golden as my body image isAnd one as small as the voice in my head telling me I'm "Beautiful as is"Because no mirror captures my image betterThan the one that is held by me.
Thick with SugarSweeter and sweeterAnother piece of cakeTastier and tastierThis pain she cannot takeSour, so sourA gumdrop or fourWhen the box emptiesShe only looks for moreChips and candyOh, she eats it allIf her sorrow was measured by her stomachShe outweighs them allSadder, and sadderHer stomach weighs as suchLouder and louderThe sound of her gutDrowning out the sadnessShe'll eat another slice of cakeHer stomach's as heavy as her heartBecause of this pain she cannot take
CannotI don't respond to affectionI don't think I deserve itBut when you cry, and want to dieI remind you that you're worth itI remind you you can do many thingsThings that I cannotAnd always I remind myselfI'm destined just to rotI don't see a future for myselfNo, it's just not thereBut whenever I can I'll make you understandIt's always thereIf I could give this depression away as easily as I give adviceThen maybe I'd be happyAnd my heart melted of ice
Glass Is Half EmptyIf her depression were measuredby the tears she's shedShe'd fill a glassAnd as alwaysYou'd ask for more.
LoveIs not "standing up" for your friendswhen you cut others downIs not the relationship that comes with free artAnd no late-night talksIt is not how much money someone spends on youFor clothes, websites, or anythingLoveIs built upon inside jokeslate-night phone calls,pep-talks before the big test tomorrowLove is laughterIn both sorrow and jubilationLove is the embrace you givethat never faltersBecause in this harsh worldWhen love seems to be the polluted definition oftragedy and angerAll we can do is give others the warmth of our wordsThe kindness of our soulAnd the assuring embraceTo go on another day.
AnchorsIf depression were like a seaConstantly threatening to pull me underThen you’d be my anchorDrowning me with the weight you make me carry
UntitledAge five was when she felt it, a painful sting in her heartAge five is when those tantrums began, just to keep her world from falling apartAge seven was when she compared herself, and knew she wasn't enoughAge seven was when she realized, just how much she wanted to give upAge nine she was a little girl who didn't have great luckAge nine she was a little girl who thought she was fucked upAge ten she wasn't human, she was cruel jokes and rumors, tooAge ten she wasn't a girl just like me or youAge eleven she wanted a boy just to know that she was thereAge eleven was the time she knew that no one really caredAge thirteen she realized this sadness, that loomed overheadAge thirteen she never had a feeling stronger, than wanting to be deadAge fourteen things got better, the weather not so roughAge fourteen she thought things may be starting to look upAge fifteen she found relief, something other than feeling numbAge fifteen she hasn't convinced herself that she's actually love
SocializationShe's got a nice front to her.Conversation seems easy.She seems like a lovely girl,But her attitude its just sleazy.--She thinks she's doing many great thingsBy being everyone's counselor,My, that has to sting,To talk to people for hours.--She's lazy and lonely, what a terrible mixWill she ever socialize properly?Or is that a problem we can't fix?--She wants people to talk to herBut she can't keep it goingShe seems like a smart girlBut her social skills aren't flowing.--Do people tire of her as much as she does them?Is she really happy? Does she really have friends?She's just a nobody in a sea of potential,If her social skills were better, maybe she'd become essential.
Bullied On Our Friendly Website DA There was once a two authors on a website that wanted to let their opinion out.But a famous author set to put them out.She took the flame of these little author’s hearts making them burn from blue to red.And here’s what she said,“Your little fire shall be extinguished because I want you to get the Fuck Out!”The tiny authors wept and cried.Wondering was it because they picked a side.Maybe if they had gone with the flow of everyone elsethey wouldn't have suffered being a different self?The small male author thought it was too much to handle and left.But the dainty female author stayed behind. HoweverThe light within her grew dimmer and dimmer.And its glow became barely a shimmer.Her originality became to be like everything else she owned: plastic.She wasn't real anymore; just another author following the trends.All hope was lost.No one to come save her.Sadness reigned within her, making her shallow and pale as Frost.Not
Suckerpunch SweetheartRed lipstick war paintEyeliner eyes.I am a soldier in my own war;A force split in two sides.I am a force of natureBring about my own raptureAnd I’ll bring you to your knees.Say pleaseLittle girl lost.Cut off my hairCut into my skinPretty princess girlCardinal sin.Let me inLet me in.Sugar in my veinsAnd poison in my heart;I can turn bloodInto a work of art.I won’t go there againWon’t do itI won’t.HandsA sea of handsAnd andsIn my head.A universe inside.Dead.Icy skinFiery eyesNobody knowsJust what's inside.
V o i c e sThese whispers in my head,trying to push me to the end.All I want is to go home,but then I remember,I've always been alone.
absent resolvei.i cradle my hopewith both hands,as if holding it closewill give it the warmthto stay alive.when you come nearit flares and rustles,begging to take flight;yet i am both caressand cage.ii.we have confused our signals,mixed our drinks andnever together.closure looms ominousbut i would rather forgetthan be caught in thisluminous void ofperhaps -iii.i am weakand perhapsyou are blind,we, silent,are nothingperhaps we could beeverythingif only we spoke.iv.enigma,you have unknowinglytwisted yourselfin helical fundamentalsabout my identity,shaped me inabsence andthe embers ofa chance.i wish i knewwhen to releasethis frail hope.v.we're both drunkand you're shaking,caught in a momentneither here nor now.entwined fingersbring you back tothe present, and i lingerbut you are eager to eclipsethis vulnerability,so you run.vi.i'm too afraid to ask,but at least the question'sanswered:we're both cowards.
bound in retrospectpart i.let's talkabout wreckage and dreaming,about nights wept weary,and how city limitscompress to claim youwhen you run.let’s talkabout slippingaway early mo(u)rningand choosing dark over light;how eventually i stoppedwishing upon starsbecause really,what’s the point.let's talk;there is no true wayfor someone this self-consciousto let loose streams ofconsciousness,but i'm trying.interlude: youyou,you are an immersionheartbeatracing down my spine,along vertebrae as ifthey belong to youbut they shouldn’t,not now.you,you are long-limbed eyelashes,a study in faux-reluctance.you are a cagei never could penetratealthough you never had much troubleignoring my reluctance;penetration became a gamei never won.part ii.let’s talk;this was never a love story,but add enough adjectiveand i guess it can bewhatever you want it to be.warped to your ideal,turn me to my better angleand hide the flaws;hide the fa
Demons Can Feel TooI'll admit that I'm a demon.I'm cold and cruel,Hateful and quick to anger.I'm flawed.I prefer darkness over light.But demons can have feelings too.I can be hurt, offended.I can be sympathetic.I can care for other peopleAnd I can love.I may be a cruel being.Excessively so at times.But that doesn't make me heartless.Though I may seem so,I'm not.I do have a heart.And I do use it.Just not often.Because the problem with having a heartIs it can be broken.And I don't want a broken heart.I think maybe that's why demons seem so cruel and hateful.They're just afraid of getting hurt.
Can I Get a Receipt?I gave the worldto youand all I gotin returnis bloodied, mutilated wristsand a death wish.
twenty-sixgive me the ocean;let the salt nip at my skinand sand crush beneath my soles.throw me to the sun;char my skin to the bone.sink me under the depthstill my lungs start to swimthat weightless embraceis how i feel with him.
PianoAt night someone plays the piano in my living roomThe song is mournfulAnd I hate it, the feelings it wakes in meA stirring hungerI find myself yearning for somethingNameless, resonating, the music echoes throughThe house, like a warm memoryHauntingClinging to the empty hallways There's a void inside my chestResembling the handsOf another soul
O K A YI stress too muchI don’t sleep wellSome days I’m happy,Some days it’s hell.If I complain, I’m seen as weakThey’ll mock and laugh for days and weeksYears of tortureYears of painI’m contemplating on ending this game.Helping others,I do that bestI just want to be treated like the rest.The game goes on,But I’m far from weakI’ll strive on forwardsMy light’s not meek.Things may be hardBut they’ll be okay.I can play this game another day.