And there it was again.

As I entered the room, our eyes met, yours icy cold, mine on the edge of tears, and for a moment I thought you knew. I'm not sure what it was... A mixture of disgust, shame, pity, and maybe a bit of understanding. What gave it away? How do you always know exactly what goes one deep within my thoughts?

I'm trying so hard and it's never good enough. I don't even care about my high standards for myself anymore, for I'm lucky to even meet the expectations of others. I'm watching everything that I'd gripped on to for so long and so tightly slip right out of my hands. The worst part is all I can do is sit and watch.

I'm not a quitter,
But I don't fight in the one's I always lose.

All these poems about love,
And kissing,
And falling for someone.

It seems as if I only write poems of heartbreak.

They don't notice the way I look at him.
She doesn't realize that she's tearing me apart.
He doesn't see that I'm trying.








                                                                                                                                              Nobody does.

You say it's a 'right.' You say it's  allowed to have these- These killing machines. Things are different now. We don't need this, for things have changed.

You just won't give up, huh?
Is it a pride thing? Does it make you feel powerful? Important?
Knowing that the lives of everyone around you,
Cower in the palm of your hand?


And with the simple jolt of a hand,
20 innocent children are dead.

You wouldn't dare say he had the 'right,'
Would you?

It's liberating,
The truth.

Telling what matters the most,
To those who matter the most.