Since I was little I've always had a lot of friends
that were with me wherever I went.
Furry friends that had paws and tails,
but were not alive

They always greeted me
with sewn on smiles
and glimmering glued on eyes,
and though they couldn't say hello,
I was proud to call them my friends.

I met my best friend on my fifth birthday,
a brown dog with
a cheesy name and an easy smile,
and every year since our
two halves became whole
we've celebrated that day ever since.

Every year of my life was a
new year for new friends,
but as my friend circle grew
so did the judgement.
No longer was it considered cute
to tote around stuffed animals like a toddler

"You need to make real friends," my parents would say,
when I had reached middle school
and never had so much as a sleepover,
unlike my sister who always
had people swarming around her
like bees to a hive.

Little did they know I had
tried to make friends,
tried to act normal without any luck.
If people wouldn't even accept
the facade I had put up
what reason would they have
to accept the real me?

The other kids they laughed at me,
calling me a mute because my anxiety
often stole the words off the tip of my tongue
before sound could carry them out.

My furry friends let me cry into them
when I'm upset,
won't call me weird or stupid
for the things I say.
Whenever I fall apart,
those stitched on smiles
put me back together,
telling me everything
is going to be okay.

My stuffed animals are the
biggest influences in my life.
I'll never go anywhere without one by my side
and if other people can't accept that
and think I have a problem,
then they're the ones with the problem

The grip in my hands will soon loose
and I'll fall into a quiet preferred
because after thought the path I'll choose
will be the way of a coward.

I'm tired of wasting lonely nights
with a bottle by my side
letting the sorrows of past's frights
play throughout my mind.

The tears have never stopped
whether it's inside or for the eyes
and putting on a brave faced opt  
would just unbury old lies

I'm tired and I'm over
the dragging on depression
you put me here without sober
into your lashing out aggression.

Their will be no regret
when I finally let go
of what little is left
of my life tomorrow.

These walls are closing in,
crushing my lungs and body within.
I never knew I was claustrophic
until this very moment,
with the ceiling crashing down,
and my world turning upside down,
and maybe I wouldn't feel so claustrophobic
if someone would finally support me
instead of constantly crushing me...

Big, bustling crowd
swarming so loud,
I can't block this sound.
I feel like I'm gonna drown
from these tears falling down,
I wish no one was around
THIS CROWD IS TOO LOUD

Once a month
The Devil runs red,
cursing the women of the world
for being the one
who ate the forbidden fruit first.
It doesn't care if you're already having
a ****** day,
or if you're *****
in the heat of the moment
because you were the one
who ate the forbidden fruit first.
And yes, *** is a sin
even if it's with a long term lover,
because in the eyes of God
love is wrong if you aren't married
and all he cares about
is the fact that you were the one
who ate the forbidden fruit first.

I made a deal with the devil today
Hell, I even shook his hand,
and though I knew it wasn't my time to stay,
I told him thank you for everything he did,
as I left his barren land
and followed a life of sin,
never looking back to Him,
because even though I knew better,
the sin felt so much better.

laughing talking
all around
smiling walking
buzzing sound
silent cold
binding me
always told
in my dreams

I hate her
even though I barely know
anything about her,
because for some reason
you're in love with her,
even though she wants
nothing to do with you,
if she was in love with you in return
I wouldn't stand a chance

My heart doesn't beat,
It ticks,
like one of those old grandfather clocks
you see in movies
about to strike out.
Midnight turns to morning
and only time will tell
what plans fate has with us,
and whether she'll be cruel or kind
I'll never know till the very end,
but at least I know
that right now,
right here, in this moment with you,
I don't regret a single second.

I wear my own jacket
so no guy will ever
offer me theirs

I buy my own chocolates
so I know what
I'm gonna get

I look in the mirror
so I can tell myself
that I'm beautiful

I grow my own roses
so I can't be pricked
by their thorns

I only love myself
so my heart
can never be broken

My first experience with love
felt like touching a hot stove.
I would constantly have to hold back
to keep from getting burned
by your hot temper.
I walked into my second relationship
with those same standards,
with 3rd degree burns
snaking up my arms and legs.
When my boyfriend saw my scars he
wanted to crush your heart in his hands.
And even though that sounds violent,
I know he would never smash a spider.
He would never hurt me.
He just wants what's best for me.

And that isn't you.

I'm so unhappy
but I can't say how I feel,
because if I do
I'm just being unsupportive,
so I can't win either way,
I can either be unhappy or selfish,
one of us will take the blame,
but that person won't be me

I hate this writing
but the emotions keep biting
slashing away
that razor blade
the words are inviting
almost not worth fighting
a warm hug
nice and snug
but I know if I keep trying
I'll still be crying
that poetry will barely ease
Those feelings that seize

I'll place a whisper of a kiss
on your pale lips,
even though this isn't a goodbye,
though you've run out of time,
because you'll forever be alive
and breathing inside my memory.

We're no longer in each other's lives
you or I,
and though you think her world is ending,
she is really on top of it,
a phoenix rising from the ashes,
flying and feeling so happy and free,
with hope flooding up to her knees.
No you didn't break this girl when you left her,
in fact, you made her even better.

Long blonde hair
doesn’t have a care
she bounces when she walks
and sounds funny when she talks

That girl is me

Most people can’t see
past my too bright clothes
or my too big bows
they just give me one glance
and without giving me a chance
decide that I’m not worth their time

And you know, its fine
I’ll just crack open my favorite book
or start another story in my notebook
I’ve lived in this place for twelve years
I’ve done since conquered my fears
of being shut down
I’ve always found a way to turn my frown
into a smile
a way to not get irritated or riled
up the second things don’t go my way

I plan to stay
in this city for the rest of my life
and become a hardworking housewife
there’s no reason to try and stir up trouble
I feel fine inside my own little bubble

But obviously my friends wouldn’t  let me do that
because, let's be honest, humans aren’t meant to be doormats
I'll always have Robert, or Child, or Ant
without them I-I just can’t!
they took me in when I needed them the most
and no I’m not going to bore you or boast
but you should at least know that they’re my everything
that without them I’m like a bird without wings
that they’ve shaped me into the person I am

And no, I don't give a ****
if they're all a bunch of freaks
I wouldn’t be here without my lovable band of geeks
and if any of you ever attempt to hurt
them I’ll crush your days to dirt
without a second thought
of getting caught

I love that when I’m around them I can take down my walls
that while sprawled
on the floor I can laugh and cry
without the fear of being criticized.
I can tell them how I believe love is love
and that there's nothing anyone should be ashamed of.
that to really live life you don’t just aim to survive
but to thrive
that maybe there isn’t a heaven or a hell
but that there's nothing we should dwell
on or regret

And yet...

I know we all have different dreams
in less than a year our little group will fall apart at the seams
and even after I’m free of this cesspool
I’ll just be going to another school
working and studying and pouring my blood, sweat, and tears
the same way I’ve been doing for years

Since sophomore year I’ve been persistent
on becoming a dental assistant
it wasn't the first path I had chosen
but it's a realistic path my parents have woven
for me and I trust their intentions

Now I hope I haven’t forgotten to mention
that my biggest dream of all,
and though I know it may seem small,
is to get married and have kids
to feel overwhelmed with love when I look down into a crib
and be met with a big smiling face and a little button nose
oh, and I just know
when I become a mother I wont lose my childish edge
I’ll be paying bills but I’ll still have my zest
of course I'll still make time for longboarding and drawing and reading

I’ll spend lots of time searching and seeking
out my purpose
I’ll hold my head high and stop being the nervous
little girl I used to be

Because I’ll finally be the best version of me

***** to water
everyone stares
somebody stop her
someone just care

shes destroying herself
one drink at a time
look at her health
those warning signs

she won't turn back
once shes hooked
steer off track
if you overlook

He stands on the edge
his arms spread out like wings,
his eyes shut to the murky water
swirling angrily below him.

He takes a step forward,
walking on thin air,
before gravity brings reality.

He falls as if in slow motion,
his heart leaping out to touch
the water before his body does.

He sinks like a stone,
his heart heavy with the
years of sadness and pain
weighing him down

Yet a week later ,
when they finally brought him up,
where his cheeks were waterlogged and swollen,
was the ever so hint of a smile

I miss you
and I hope you miss me too,
because when I think of you
I don't feel so blue.
I don't have anything better to do
than sit and reminisce you,
so right now, I'll power through,
so later I can tell you how much I love you:)

Why isn't it fine for men to cry?
Why do men have to pull up their guards
the second emotions get brought up
for fear that society will judge them?

For once I just want to watch
a guy cry on my shoulder,
to hold him in my arms
and tell him how everything will be fine,
so he's not alone to face the storm
without so much as an umbrella
to keep him from catching cold.

But I know this will never happen,
because society has taught its men to be silent.

Freedom is such a beautiful thing
that makes you feel weightless,
like you're on top of the world,
like you can control the constellations.
And why can we feel freedom?
Because you can't have light without darkness
or happiness without sadness,
we all know what it's like
to be chained down,
a slave to society,
to the cards we've been dealt if life.
Lately I've been stuck in a cell
screaming to be free,
fiending to feel weightless again,
willing to do anything to take off these chains,
because deep down I will always be
a slave to freedom.

Sun falling down
Telescope touching ground
Artful scenery ahead
Raging stars are dead
Glamorous light
Amazingly bright
Zillions tethered
Elegantly together

No matter what I try to do
I'll never be enough for you

I'm sorry
I couldn't be like her,
I'm sorry
I couldn't be the daughter you wanted,
I'm sorry
I don't share your beliefs,
or dreams,
or perspective,
but most of all,
you should feel sorry for yourself.

When I walk into a room
I always scan the sea before me,
helplessly hoping that
one of them is you.
Sometimes I see someone with your brown hair
or twinkling, turquoise eyes
and your name leaps off my tongue
like a freestyle diver,
only to leave me feeling lonely
because they're just another person
who isn't you.

I think I feel a bit better,
like the last few days,
I've been under the weather,
but my tummy didn't hurt
and my nose wasn't runny,
no,this weighing sadness
just made me feel a bit funny,
I was sick in the brain
and even though I try to refrain
from feeling this way
sometimes a girl just needs a mental health day
to make the dark clouds go away
even if it's only for a little while...

The one in the mirror
who is exhausted and deprived
needs to evade fear
and live out life alive.

The shift was just so little
at first you could barely notice
now she is just a riddle
thrown into the infinite abyss

I bump into her everyday
when I'm once again in the backseat
and cannot, must look away
from the old memories bittersweet.

In fiction good always beats evil.
The good guy will always squash
the bad guy and justice will always prevail.
That's what fiction teaches your children.
That "what goes around comes around"
that "God will pay you double for your troubles"

But in reality that never happens.

In reality the bad guy squashes the good guy
and evil prevails
as it spreads from person to person.

And I don't know about you
but I wish I would have been
fed a spoonful of reality as a kid.

Then I would have at least been prepared
to deal with people like you
who waltz into my life,
all charming and smiles in the beginning,
but who will stab me in the back and toss me aside
the second I am no longer useful for their evil plans.

Sometimes I just wish
that fiction stories could apply to real life...

If these walls could talk,
oh, the things I'd say,
I'd tell them of the past few days,
about these feelings that won't go away.

If these walls could talk,
I'd probably end up crying
from always lying,
from all the feelings I've been denying.

But these walls will never talk
and neither will you,
because you were the one who withdrew.
If only you knew
how lonely I've been without you...

Sometimes I just want to die.
At first it was just something small
but now it's grown so humongously tall.
I'm inching towards the edge about to fall.

I can't believe I thought it was a lie
when he talked about her from time to time.
I would empty myself of every dime
just for him to just stop his talking crime.

Is it wrong for me to cry?
The only person I had ever learned to love
has flown away to the above,
the good old morning dove.

but now I can only sigh
it really is my fault
I lock everyone I like into an inaccessible vault
throw away the key,
don't let anyone near me,
thinking I've found the perfect remedy.

But now with him gone, I'm nowhere even near grazing the sky.

My time is up,
the flame's burned out
and there's no wick left
to start it back up.
All hope is gone.

There's this pressure in my lungs
that keeps building and building,
making it harder to breathe,
so hard that I'm afraid my lungs
are going to burst like a balloon,
because it never gets better,
because you never stop pushing me.
I'm on the edge of a cliff about to fall,
yet you think you know what's best for me,
I'm getting tired of it all.
Maybe I should jump
before you push me too far,
because I'll never meet your expectations
when all you do is raise the bar,
because all you want is more and more,
and this pressure keeps on building and building,
making it harder to breathe.

I drag through every day
with invisible cement blocks
strapped to my feet.
I let nobody in,
nobody sees,
nobody knows my struggle
except for me.
I've kept up a smile
through these tears for years
because I know
the world won't stop revolving
just because I'm depressed.
It keeps on spinning  
through suicide attempts every second
and climate change,
and world wars.
No, the world won't stop revolving for anybody,
it's every man for himself
in this dog-eat-dog world.

I never knew bruises
could come in every color
until you hit me.
You gave me the entire rainbow
from blackened purples to sickly greens,
you gave my once smooth canvas texture,
it made you so happy see me bleed.
But this art project became our little secret
because no one else is supposed to see,
It's not like anyone would believe
that he gave me these bruises,
that he mixed these colors so pretty.
No, Daddy made this rainbow just for me.

Her lips on mine,
can't help but fantasize.
Imagining her angel eyes,
whether they're real or just a disguise,
keeps my head in the skies
and tucks me in tight,
a loving lullaby
that sings me to sleep each night.

I saw the beauty
in what sweeps
in feathery waves
down your back
what bathes in light
when the sun
puts a spotlight on
it's wild wisps
what falls in tendrils
over your shoulder
until you messily tuck
it behind
your ear
what makes me blush
as ruby red
as those voluminous
curls

I saw the beauty

A notebook full of fantasies,
filled to the brim with words
I've always been too afraid to say out loud.
Love letters never sent,
memories never spent,
because the love never existed
in the first place,
you've only ever been an idea
that I've meticulously made up
inside my mind.
The perfect person doesn't exist
and I know I'm still a kid,
but when I look at you, I wonder,
Are you my perfect person?
Or am i just getting my hopes up again?

I could write you a poem from the heart
but I don't think you'd like it.
I don't think you'd even finish the poem,
let alone skim each line,
I'm pretty sure you wouldn't take the time
to find a deeper meaning
in the abyss of words
that make up my mind
or be able to keep yourself
from jumping to conclusions
on what my metaphors mean.
So if you asked me to write you a poem,
I would just hand you a blank piece of paper,
because writing a poem for you
is just a waste of time
just like every second I ever spent on you,
every feeling faltering,
every word a write off,
every metaphor meaningless.
I'll never write you another poem again
because you deserve to be kept in the dark,
because you don't deserve to know
just how bad you really hurt me.

I've waited too long
to bury her
to just belong
to block the whispers
that changed me
into something I'm not
I'm finally free
already forgot
or will forget
that **** past
that wouldnt let
my time last
it wanted me dead
almost killed me
that ******* dread

You'll never **** me

I welcome love
like I'd welcome an old friend,
with a hug and a warm embrace
upon seeing a familiar face.
But no matter how long I wait,
love never comes knocking at my door.
I wonder why I even try anymore...

I am a storm
roaring onto the Earth
my emotions swarm
revenge I thirst
everyone feels my rage
thundering lightening
it strikes on a rampage
in blasts that are frightening
it puts me in fear
of hurting others
you better steer clear
these feelings won't smother
stay inside keep warm
and out of my storm

I'm a drop in the ocean
a cloud in the sky
a flower in the field
a star in the night.
I'll never be special
no matter how hard I try.

I have butterflies in my stomach,
but not because I'm nervous.
I swallowed them,
whole without chewing,
so not to mess up their fragile fairy wings
or have slimy bug guts sliding down my throat.
I thought if I had the butterflies
I could finally get rid of the sins inside
that reside within me as dark as night,
that there would finally be something about me
that was  
B  E  A  U  T  I   F  U  L.
But since I can't count on myself to change,
I keep butterflies inside me instead.

I know I've never been easy on the eyes.
You know you're ugly
when even your closest friends agree with you,
when your partners tell you
they only liked you for your personality,
when you try your hardest to look decent for once
and you don't even look
half as nice as a hottie on a sweatpants day.
And yet society has the audacity
to try and make girls like me feel pretty,
to say "Everyone is beautiful on the inside."
But if no one cares to look that far,
then does it really matter?
Do I really matter?

You twist the truth
into boy scout knots
and put them on display
for all to see.
"Look at me! Look what I did!"
and everyone believed it,
while I sat in the corner, quiet,
because people only want to believe
the story that sounds the most interesting.

I saw the devil in her eyes,
       and I had thought I was fine,
               but I was too dumb to realize
                      I had let her inside my mind.