By. Lauren

When I first looked into your eyes I saw that something was wrong.
I knew that you had a secret that you where keeping from the world.
I could see a tear drop from your glistening brown eyes.
I could see the depth of the ocean that you where keeping hostage.
I could see that you were suffering. Because when I looked into your eyes I saw the girl that I used to be.
I saw a girl that was afraid to tell her parents how she truly felt.
When I looked into your eyes I knew that you were just waiting to tell the world something.
When I looked into your eyes I saw a secret waiting to be told.
Sadly, I also saw that you will grow old And will likely keep the secret from everybody in the world out of fear.
You know I can see your secret don't you?
"Your secret is safe with," me I want to whisper in your ear.
I want to tell you that I know how you feel.
I want to tell you that I will be there for you.
But how do you tell that to somebody who hasn't even told you they're secret?
I know what your secret is because I had  the same secret that you had.
Maybe you don't even have a secret at all.
Maybe your secret isn't even a secret at all.
But when I looked into those brown glistening eyes once more I knew that I was correct.
I knew that you were truly keeping a secret deeper than the one I was.
I knew together we had a big secret that we would have to help each other with.
So when I looked into your brown glistening eyes mine glistened too as if to convey the message "we're in this together, love."

By. Lauren

Growing up gay in the south is like smoking.
You know it's not good yet you still do it.
Growing up gay in the south is a destiny to be shunned.
Growing up gay in the south is like having food in your teeth.
We're not afraid to point it out!
Because growing up in the south means you're quick to judge and even quicker to act on it.
If you grew up gay in the south than you know what I'm talking about.
Just don't do it.
Because growing up gay in the south is the epitome of all gays.

By. Lauren

If a guy likes a guy
then he likes a
******* guy.
If a girl likes a girl
than she likes a
******* girl.
If you don't understand
then leave them the
**** alone.
Because
If a guy likes a guy
then he likes a
******* guy.
If a girl likes a girl
than she likes a
******* girl.
In the end
Love is ******* love.

By. Lauren

They exiled him one by one pushing him out the door.
Boom!
The door slammed.
If only they knew he was just like me.
Homosexuality is a sin the preachers sermon seems to yell at me in a blunt tone as if a bullet had just shot.
As I excused myself to go cry in the church bathroom my footsteps sounded louder than that of a gun shot.
A loud boom each time I took a forward movement.
They all turned and looked at me.
They knew,
I knew they knew,
And in that moment I was exiled too.

By. Lauren

A throbbing pain,
A moment in which I hear nothing.
A bullet to the head.
A scream to leave me alone.
Doctors say “if a headache lasts more than 24 hours than there is something wrong."
“What about 24/7?” I scream in my brain.
My headache is not a scream for your help;
It is a scream for the God I left years ago to hurry up and **** me.
For as long as I can remember my headache has been there for me.
My headache comes over at the worst of times banging on my door refusing to leave.
My headache is worse than the Jehovah’s Witness banging on my door every Sunday.
My headache is an intruder refusing to leave even after I call the cops.
My headache makes me scream,
So keep away from me.
My headache has taken a hold of me.
My headache makes the lights in my room look like the holy light waiting to blind me.
I know not of the life I had before headache because headache has always been holding my hand.
My headache is a lover who I can not seem to leave no matter how many times I say,
‘I am through”
My headache is the person on the other side of the aisle
Saying,
“I do”
Before I could run away.
So when the doctor gave me the bottle of pills that rattled in the passenger seat of my car all the way home I was shocked to see I was afraid to divorce my lover headache.
Because
My headache loved me.

By. Lauren

A ****** day for a ****** person like me.
Beep!
Beep!
Beep!
I woke up late, once again.
Rush, swoosh, ugh!
I am late once again.
In a rush to leave I find myself throwing on the first thing my weak fingers can feel.
I'm late and my health is failing.
Today is a ****** day!
Slam!
The door closes and I left my keys once again.
"Today is ****," I scream.
As I look in the mirror of my car my eyes want to scream.
Every imperfection is visible on me.
Today is a ****** day for a ****** person like me.

By. Lauren

To all the self harmers I know,
You are loved even on your worst of days.
You will have scars.
Your friends will worry when you show up with red marks on your arms and legs.
Children will ask questions.
Just remember please, it is all because they are worried about you.
To all the ex self harmers I know,
I've been there too.
The days you face become more and more difficult like a heavy weight as you search for a way to cope and breathe freely once more,
But
You will make it out of this.
You are powerful.
Your scars will fade.
To all the the people who have self harmed,
Your stories will never go away.
But your stories will end.
To self harm,
It's time to move on and stop claiming wrists as friends.