I look up at the ceiling fan
The brownish red wood of the five blades
Three bulbs shining down on me

It looks perfectly clean
Even kind of happy

Then I look at the other side of those blades
And I see dust
Grayness piling over eachother
On the other side of those blades
Is the silent suffering
Sometimes spilling over the edges
Though barely visible

If you don't look closely
You might have no idea
Plus, it doesn't really matter
It still fans you
And helps you feel good


Do you ever feel like the fan?
Or are you a person in this situation?
What do you notice?

I want to write something beautiful
But my thoughts and my heart aren't there right now
And that's where I write from

So everything I write is messy and weird

And probably a little unhealthy

Maybe a little stuck too

My therapist told me
That you said
You wanted to be friends

She didn't understand how messed up that was

I don't want to be his friend
I don't need my father as a friend
I need him as a parent
And a good one at that

You choose your friends
I don't choose you

You're forced to be someone's child
Like I was to you
Except you want to be my friend
I don't want you

My mom had an escape
She divorced him
And even then
It took her a child
And 25 years

I'm stuck
He's in my bones
There's nothing I can do
Except choose not to be friends with him

I want to be his daughter
And for that he has to be my dad
Thats on him

Step one:
Be an adult

*Failed

I don't wake up in time
My mom is yelling at me
Loudly
But she doesn't even notice what she's doing
Or she doesn't care

I can't be yelled at by her
My eyes are beginning to water
My chest is getting tight
My tired cold body gets tense
I can't go to school like this
Not now at least

"Mom, can I go to school a bit late today?"
"No"
She says
She yells some more
I still think she doesn't know that she's yelling
"Mom, you're yelling"
I say calmly as tears leak out of my tired eyes
All I hear is anger and
Disappointment because her daughter is acting like someone her age and not someone who seems especially mature

"Liana, if you need to go to school late
You need professional help"

She means a psych ward
And I know it

No, no, no
Fear spreads through me like a virus
It takes control
It makes me power off
My screen is glitching
I don't work anymore

If I want to act like someone my age who got 3 hours of sleep I need to go to a mental hospital where I won't go to school at all?

As I get up out of bed
Run to the bathroom
To cry

I brush my teeth
Wash my face from the tears
But new ones spill out
They won't stop coming
It's a thunderstorm
It's been brewing for a while

Come back to my room
My mom in there doing something
I step into my closet to change

What am I doing?
She's your mother
she's your sane parent.
So many would wish for one like her
I think

After arguing
Crying
Explaining
She says
"I'll take you to school after my shower"
And now I'm writing

I can't go to school like this
I'm a thin plate
Just waiting to break
And school likes throwing things like me
So I'll split into a million little pieces
And maybe never put me back together

Even now
Many many years later
I still feel like the 2nd grader who sat under the slide and carved shapes into the mulch during recess
Sitting there
Watching everyone be normal
And just thinking thoughts

Well,
I may not have many friends,
Pick my skin until it can't stop to bleed
Have a father that makes me want to kick and scream
And have anxiety
But hey,
At least the sky looks pretty!

There's no way I can describe this feeling
Except for bad

Some may call it
Depressed
Sad
Angry
Unmotivated
Overwhelmed
Anxious

Unfortuna­tely, there's no word for all of the above
So yeah, bad
I hate to feel bad

What if I'm crazy too
What if I'm like him
And because of that
I don't realize I am

I mean
I know the tendency is genetic
And when you're sick
You don't even know it

He is a part of me
Either way
I had no choice
I was born that way

When I look in the mirror I see his eyes
And his nose
And his hair
I glare at them
A reminder that I'm stuck with him
no matter what I do he'll always be there

It makes me hate myself
When look and I see him in me

I don't want to look like him
I never want to make anyone feel the way he did to me
I don't want to be crazy and see the world blurry
I won't even know it if I am
Which is scary
Please don't also let me be crazy

Why couldn't things be that way more often?

My bedroom is dark


Like the place my mind takes me to when I wonder off

Poetry is like when you're listening to music
And you suddenly remember there's a volume button
So you make it louder
Everything just seems better
And more exiting

The simplest thing
Like a leaf falling from a tree
Or a smile
Is now fascinating
And all you can think of that day

The biggest, scariest things
Like trauma, abuse, and loss
Are validated
And take up less space in your mind

You start to think differently
Or more
You start to really think


People are different
People have different problems
After you read their poem
You can start to understand them
Or maybe yourself
It makes you love words
And the way it helps us empathize with eachother
And really see eachother

Poetry is for the things we struggle to say outloud
Our deepest thoughts
What we believe is up with the world now
It's another way of communication
For those of us who have thoughts we can't speak
Or we don't even realize we have

Even the moon changes,
Develops,
After time,
becomes whole
So why can't you?

I mean,
you kind of do
But like the moon you
always go back
It's just not as gradual

I think of you both at night
Except with you
It makes me unable to sleep

At least the moon is up there in the sky
Just looking pretty
And following my car
Catching my eye
Making me smile
Not making me cry

I love the moon
But that's weird because
Is it's similar to you

He is a light
With no dimmer

He's either on
Very, very bright
Almost blinding

Or off
Depressed, out of control
Spreading his darkness wherever he goes

I long to install the dimmer
To have a sweet spot in the middle
But he's simply not built like that
Or maybe
He's too broken for it
And he can't be fixed

You don't deserve my tears
But I deserve to let myself cry

I am here on earth
Technically

I am in my mind though constantly
And that's the reality

Unfortunately
Being in your head
When it clearly hates you
Is exhausting

The overthinking
Doubting
Repeating that same words over and over again
Guilt for things you didn't do
Morbid thoughts about someone killing your family
Intrusive thoughts about stepping on to the road

"They're not realistic"
You tell yourself
But still inside believe that they could be



It's like if you always were eating the same food
Everyday
Every second
And you don't like it
It makes you feel sick

I feel sick
All
The
Time

Both mentally
And physically

Please release me from my head
My hands hurt from trying to break the bars
But don't do it like I do
Where I end up kind of not feeling anything at all

"Is this because you are a part of me?"
I wonder
Maybe
Maybe not

We are all suns
In our solar system

Some suns are arrogant
Only caring about themselves
They exclaim
"I'm the biggest one!"

And some suns are kind
Hating some
But loving most
They exclaim
"We are all stars
We should all be one"

If the world
Lost it's poetry, art, music, dance, stories, books, and performing
I think
The population would be cut in half
And those 4 billion people left
Would be miserable

I image life without them
As unlivable

Do you know that feeling(less)
Where you feel all the emotions at once
But yet
Feel none at all

Like you can't cry
But are choking back tears

Like you never want to open your mouth
But you do want to scream

And like you want to curl up and die
But also get out of the house and live?

I love
When I make people laugh
And when they feel comfortable enough to cry
To share theirs thoughts out loud
So I can too can be mad
And express how much I don't want them to die

I tell myself I can do it
I can be without friends
But I can't
And I might have figured out why

I'm human

Every day at lunch
I get the same thing
It's the most edible thing they have

I grab it
And go to pay

I say hi to the lunch lady
And ask her how is her day
She says good
She asks me
I say good
(Even though I’m not really)

I punch in my number
Smile at her
She says I’m “good to go”
I say thank you
And she says you're welcome and
You're a very sweet and kind girl
I said thank you
And left

It saddened me
That I was probably the nicest to her
That they all just made a mess
Yelled
Didn't even look up at her after taking their food
Not even a smile
Or a polite thank you

I respect these people
Maybe more than my teachers honestly
They have really hard jobs
Dealing with kids
And I know they barely make any money

Who ever said
That when they grew up
They wanted to be a lunch lady?
I wonder what went wrong
It hope they're okay
So what if they're like 50 years older than me
I think I'm friends with my lunch lady
I think more people should be

At least I know she smiles at least once a day

So many downsides to knowing him
Being his daughter
But one thing I can say
It's that it's never boring
Because it's always something
A complication of sorts
Never nothing

Words are flowing out
Like an endless rainbow of sorrows
Coming right out of my heart

The red of blood
The pain
The guilt

The green of grass
Trees
And my eyes

The blue of the sky in daylight
The ocean
My heart

And all the rest
Of the beautiful and sad colors
Bleeding out of my pen too

I cry
Cry
Cry

I make my mother sigh

I know little me would have been confused because I thought big kids don't cry
Only daddy did
Every night
Even then I knew he wasn't big
I guess


I cry
Cry
Cry

I make my mother sigh

She doesn't know how to help me
I relate to that honestly


I cry
Cry
Cry

I make my mother sigh

She's sad that she's sees herself in me
I don't know why
Why
Why

You say good day sunshine

I say bad day and now it's nighttime

I still have so much to get done
And I'm angry
At myself
My teachers
My "friends"
My "dad"
And the world

I want to scream
So loudly
That world will stop spinning for a second
And acknowledge that I'm angry

That the ground will collapse
Deep enough for me to fall into
And never come out

That time will stop
Maybe for an hour or two
Or maybe forever

I remember one night
As clear as day

It all started when I watched a movie
The dog has died
And it reminded me of mine

I let myself sob
I knew my mom would only come back late
And my dad wasn't truly there

So I cried and cried
Distracted myself by watching more
And cried again

When she got back
She came with me in bed
As I sobbed


Soon enough
She said "it's time to sleep!"
And that's when I realized
I couldn't stop to weep
And it wasn't just that
I couldn't breath
I was shaking
I realized
It was a full blown panic attack

Unable to stop
Already 3am
My mom not knowing what to do anymore
She said "If you don't stop
I'll have to take you to the hospital"

A nightmare

Scared out of my mind
Knowing that's the last thing I wanted
I went to the bathroom
And took a cold shower

It was cold
And miserable
I hated it so
But after collecting myself a bit
I was able to sleep
A terrible sleep though


I've had nights
Feeling so physically ill
But I know
Nothing will ever
Compare to that night

I was only like 9
But I'm telling you
I was so ready to just crumble up
And die

I wonder
If she'll believe him
And all of his lies
Saying he's done nothing wrong
And loved me so
He wants “ to get close”

If she believes him
I'll seem like the criminal
And he’ll seem like the victim to my crime

If she believes him
I'll look like a liar

Why did he need to meet her alone?
I don't understand

Lies
Lies
Lies
But so convincing still

It's like a remix of a song
That takes you a moment to recognize
Because the melody is different

It's my word against his
But I’m younger than him

I wish to never see her again
But I'll see her today

Honestly
I would rather stay in bed
I have other better ways
To do therapy

Other ways
That don't have an unhelpful opinions

Other ways
That can't believe his lies

And other ways
That help me
Instead of stress me
And can keep me sane
(Most of the time)

It's 11:11
I don't know what to wish for
So many things I want
But only 60 seconds to say them all

Anyways
I know they'll only be in vain

It's 11:11
And honestly
I'm really done with today
with yesterday
And tomorrow

It's 11:11
I don't know what to feel

I am quiet
But my thoughts are loud

I am untrusting
But I trust you too much

I am choking back tears on the inside
But I'm smiling on the outside

I wonder what's wrong with my mind
Way too often

There are 8,191,420,825 people as of now
And we are all thinking
We are all breathing
And we are all feeling
As long as we are alive

Some are happy right now
Just got married
Just made a friend

And some at their saddest
For their parents just died
Or they found out their partner lied

Some think about life and death
And some about what they're eating for breakfast

But all of us are thinking
Its insane

The happiest poem
But underneath it
A one full of despair

The happiest person
But next to it
One losing hope

We are so different
Yet the same
We all have names
Names and beliefs
Beliefs and truths
Truths and weaknesses
Weaknesses and strengths

It's crazy to think about it
Honestly

There's a kangaroo in your closet!

What?

There's a kangaroo in your closet!

No...there isn't

It is, trust me it's there!

I know what's in my closet, what you're doing isn't fair

He's crying out for help, he's there, he's there!

I will not doubt myself
I saw there was nothing to be seen

But please...

Why do you care?

Because I made a mess in there...

I see
Please go far far away from me

I want to know what I'm in for

Calling because you want to **** yourself and are in a terrible mood
Or
Calling because you are in a good mood and want to make my day hard?

Did you get me giant toaster that I don't want
Or
Or is there a favor you need?

When is ask you how you are
Will you get mad at me for asking
Or
Will you answer "Good"
Either way
You won't ask back
Because you don't care

All I wish
Is that it won't be a gamble
Anymore

Good or bad
I don't care

The noise and messyness of life
Surrounding me constantly
I've learned to think in verse

The
Breaks
Between
The
Lines
Help
Me
So

To think in verse
oh
It is so not a curse

It makes the simplest things
Seem fascinating
And the biggest things
Less scary

Thinking in verse
Makes me merry

Ideas floating through my head
Making it less haunting for me when I'm in bed

I've learned to think in verse
It gives me such perspective

I've learned to think in verse
Making my thoughts branch out
And out
Into something crazy

I learned to think in verse
And it might be because my free time
Is poetry immersed

In and out
And out and in
Poetry made
And
Poetry forgotten

Thinking in verse
Pulls me away
And toward
This beautiful and treacherous world

Its a rough night tonight
My head feels like it's exploding
My asthma won't let me breathe
Along with my anxiety

My thumbs hurt like hell
I feel much less when well
Nausea cause by none other than my thoughts
Just wanting to go to sleep

I want to cry
But instead I write poems
And sob through them

Ouch
It's so **** painful

I don't know what to do
With the pain

I don't know what to do
With the knowledge that I did it to myself

My thumbs bleeding
Throbbing as if my heart was right in there
Yelling at me
Judging me for what I did

The worst part
Is the next time I'll see a bump
I'll just do it all over again
Until it scars my heart and my body forever

I feel guilty
But I know it's mostly his fault
I got it from him
He gave it to me
I know he doesn't notice
Or worse
He doesn't care how he impacts me

But all I can feel now is
Ouch
Outside and in

That first night
When I lost him
I went to my backyard
Looked up at the stars
Picked one and decided
That was my dog Sandy

On my hands and knees
I cried to it hours
Outside in the cold
Asking why he left me
To face this world
Alone

I told him
How id never forgive him
But please come back
I miss you so much
It's all I ask

I made sure he knew
That I was sorry I didn't walk him that day
That I wish he would be there on my bed
Lying next to me
That I miss his bad breath
And even his high-pitched barks

My mom comes to get me
Also in tears
"What can I do?"
She asks
"Bring him back"
I answer

And now
Whenever I miss him
I pick a star
And using my mind
I talk to him again
Knowing that he doesn't actually hear me
But still taking comfort in it

I would prefer
That he would seem completely
Bad

But I got a really confusing mix
That makes me head go crazy

He knows how to manipulate
Without seeming manipulative

Word things
So that you can't say no

And tell you untrue statements
Until you feel you don't even know what you know

But he does it in a way
That looks ever so innocent

He does it in a way that looks as if
he's in the right
Like the victim to an unheard of crime

It confuses me
And though I know he's wrong
And that he lies
It messes up my mind
All the time

I would prefer
That he would look completely
Bad
Than whatever this is

I tell myself
That I'm okay without them
I've done it most of my life anyhow
But sometimes now
I start to feel lonely

Either way
The people at lunch who I sit with
They don't count
Because I don't talk to them
Or even look up at them
I am in my own world

Maybe because
It has been this way forever
I've come to live with the fact
I will be without them
That at school
I am a loner
Sitting there
Staring into space
Tolerated

I still hope though
Which like it does with everything else
With this it makes me disappointed again
For I am still left
Without them

While I'm here
Lying in bed
Shivering from the cold of night
And writing with all my might
I hear the noises from outside

Motorcycles roaring
Large groups if people laughing
Random fireworks launching
And planes soaring

They're doing things
Being alive and awake
While I try to sleep
And to calm down
They run around

I wish I would be out there
Running too
But I have to lie here
Cold and anxious
And just hear you

It's okay
Its okay
It's okay
It's okay
It's okay
You're okay
You're okay
Everything will be okay
Okay?
You're okay
It's okay
It's okay
It's okay
Breathe and everything will be okay


I feel like I'll never be okay...

Each brush stroke
A part of my soul
Blending
Mixing
Bleeding into eachother

Colors combining
Overlapping
Kind of like my thoughts

They make something interesting
Maybe messy
But calming
At least to me