It was the second day of school and I see you in the hall.
Yours is the first face I see out of them all.
You don't say 'Hi'.
Neither do I.

You purposely ignore me.
That, I can see.
I turn away.
At this point, 'Hi' is the last thing I want to say.

It's a new year.
A new beginning.
With this new year,
we should take the time to remember those who did not live to see 2014.
We should remember those who will spend another year in poverty and constant hunger.
We should appreciate how lucky we are to have food, clothes and a shelter over our heads.

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes-
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay,let them only see us, while
           We wear the mask.

We smile,but, O great Christ,our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and along the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
           We wear the mask!

Somehow,
I have no motivation to write anymore.
Writing was the only thing that kept me going,
and now,
I just don't feel like doing it anymore.
It confuses me so much.
I just don't know.

It was a few days ago,
while I was still on holiday with my family in Bali.
We went for a buggy ride and I was with my mum.
It was a particularly wet day and the buggy skidded.
We nearly crashed into a large rock wall but we managed to stop in time.
Maybe we would not have died,
maybe we would have.
But,
the panic I felt in that spilt second,
the panic I felt when I thought I might die.
The fear was real.
I realized that I did not want to die.
Not that way.
I wanted to grow old and leave my mark on this world I did not want to die.
I wasn't suicidal anymore.

I feel much better today.
Today,
I don't feel sad.
I don't feel alone.
I don't feel the emptiness in my soul.
Today I feel fixed.
It can't be!
Can it?
What does it feel like to be fixed?
Then this question popped into my head.
Do I want to be fixed?
Of course I do!
It's a ridiculous question.
I try repeating that over and over in my head but,
I don't manage to convince myself.

Some days,
I feel sadder or more depressed than usual.
Some days,
I'm suicidal again.
I try not to be but,
I can't help it.
Some days,
I'm just more lonely than others.
Some days I think about my lack of friends and how I have been stabbed in the back by so many.
On those days,
I cry.
I cry silently and secretly.
I cry throughout the day.
Some days,
I cry in school when I see you looking so happy with your new friends.
The ones you left me for.
You left me wounded.
You left me to die.
You never looked back.

Her heart is cold.
Her eyes are sunken.
She has grown weary of life.
He lungs are heavy.
Her face is pale.
Her limbs are frail.
Her arms,
Scarred.
She picks up the blade with her dainty fingers.
It was her escape from reality.
Now,
it's her escape from the world.

I am going to close old doors and open new ones.
I am going to forget about all the hurt.
I am going to forget about all the fake friends.
I am going to severe all ties with my previous class.
See them in corridors?
Who cares.
I choose to ignore and forget that bunch of losers.
I am going to forget the thirst for malicious gossip and rumours.
I am going to forget all the lies I have heard.
Thankfully none of them are going to follow me to my next class.
I'll turn invisible.
Sure, I'll have friends but I do not want attention.
For when you are outspoken,
people will make fun of you.
However,
I am not going to stop being successful.
Even though the most difficult part of success is finding someone who is happy for you.
This is it.
As I forget them,
I feel happier already.
I won't attend any reunions.
This will be a blank part of my history and I like it that way.
This is a new chapter of my life and it will be the best one ever.

THERE WILL BE CUSSING.












I try my best not to swear but I have to do it in this case.


******* *****. You don't know ****. Talking to people about me you ******* *****. all those ******* lies you ******* ****. ******* I HOPE YOU ******* DIE IN A HOLE *****. I do not wish for anyone's death having considered my own but I can't take you anymore. I've been nothing but nice to you and yet you're still a *****. No one should die except you. GOD I HATE YOU SO ******* MOUTH. CAN'T YOU SHUT YOUR ******* MOUTH *****. I'LL IGNORE YOU AND YOU CAN IGNORE ME. I'M TIRED OF THE ******* RUMOURS AND GOSSIP. CAN'T I REST FROM IT ONCE. ******. ****. YOU'LL BE ALL ALONE IN THE END.

Today is the second month I've been on Hello poetry and I have accomplished so much. I had another account before but too many people from my school found out about it and it made me feel uncomfortable and judged so, I created this account. I'm glad I did. The people I've met on this account, this website, are amazing. They've stopped me from doing many things I'm sure I would have regretted doing. They have supported me and made me smile. They understand me. They only judge me based on my soul which I have been pouring out, bit by bit, onto the 'pages' of this website. I am so thankful to have met every single person I have met on this website and we'll fix ourselves together. I love all of you, I really do.

Maybe I can fix myself.
Maybe there really is light in this dark tunnel.
Maybe one day I can feel loved again.
Maybe one day I can be loved.
Maybe one day I'll stop feeling worthless.
Maybe one day I'll feel comfortable in my own skin.
Maybe one day I'll fix myself.
Maybe
Just Maybe.

Have you ever felt alone in a crowded room?

Life knows how to hit you in the most unexpected ways.
You may think you're getting better when actually,
you're just living in a deluded world.
You may think you fixed yourself when you're still broken and the pieces scattered around you.
Reality, pushed to the furthest corner of my mind.
I'm living in dreamland.
How am I to face reality,
an enraged beast,
trapped in there for many months.
How am I to face it when dreamland comes crashing down?

Thanks guys,
I'm feeling better and I won't **** myself I've thought about it but I won't.
Thank you for your support.
I won't cut either.
I'll get through this. Thank you so much!

I saw your message.
I was there for you when you were feeling down and now you feel obliged to be here for me.
Don't.
I helped you because I cared.
I know you care too but,
I don't need your help.
I don't need anyone's help.
I really appreciate your concern.
But,
if you help me,
you'll remind me of her.
She helped me and then,
she stabbed me in the back.
You're a nice girl.
You're one of the few who care.
I don't want you to remind of her.
For then,
I will be afraid of losing you in the worst way possible.
I really regret lying to you when you asked me if I was okay.
However,
I had no choice.
Mainly because I don't want your help.
I hate it when people pity me.
I feel weak and I may be anything but,
I'm most definitely not weak.
I refuse to be weak.
even if I have to pretend,
I will be strong.
After everything that has happened to me and I know that's not much compared to other but,
I refused to be pitied.
The only one who is allowed to pity me is that one girl who stuck with me through EVERYTHING and we aren't even close.
She's a nice girl too.
I love you,
really but I refuse to be weak.
I will be strong no matter what.
You're a good person, but some things,
I have to deal with on my own.
By the way,
I'm not fine and I'll never be fine, at least, for the foreseeable future.
I'm bent.
I was broken but I fixed myself.
I guess that makes me fine but,
I'm not as fine as before.

" Don't you think that it's boring how people talk"

It's always my fault,
isn't it?
She just sits on her laptop the whole day and I help out with the chores and,
it's my fault.
It's my fault for making an attempt to be less rude to you while she screams in your face.
It's my fault for studying harder than her so I top the class while she barely passes.
It's my fault.
It always is.
I don't even know why I wrote this.
I can't change anything by writing poems and that,
will be my fault as well.
*It always is

Sometimes I feel invisible.
I'm screaming and shouting.
Waving my arms frantically.
No sound.
No one hears.
No one cares.
Grabbing limbs,
Tugging at shirts.
I'm doing everything to be noticed.
Not a person turns.
Tears course down my cheeks,
My throat is sore.
My cheeks, red.
My bair is  in knots and my palms are sweaty.
I'm exhausted, I'm a mess.
I'm about to give up on this life and,
No one cares.

A champagne-coloured, sleek, aluminum casing with an apple logo on it.
A smooth white surface,
An alluring beauty.  
A press of a button, the screen is illuminated.
Endless possibilities.
Unlimited choices.

Today,
miracle of sorts happened.
I woke up in the morning with a fake smile plastered on my face.
I expected it to stay there.
As my parents talked to me,
I was able to maintain that fake cheery tone I had perfected.
Then,
I switched on my phone and I saw that Facebook message from you.
It made my stomach churn in a good way,
and,
then I smiled.
I smiled genuinely.
I had forgotten how a genuine smile felt like but you helped me to remember.
*Thank You

What is life?
I am going to study until I complete university,
after which i will have to get a job and I'll work from 9-5 every single day.
I'll have to pay the bills and on top of that,
I will also be pressured to get married by my parents and what if I have kids?
The responsibility of caring for them is then added on.
After many years,
I retire but by then I'll be in no condition to travel the world or enjoy what is remaining of my life.
Then,
I'll lay in my bed and wait for death.
Is this really what life is supposed to be like?
I don't think so.

Stop bringing me into your fight!
Both of you are my friends and I love you equally.
I would get you to stop fighting but I can't.
So I'll remain neutral (like Switzerland)
and pray that you stop fighting so that I can
talk to both of you again without being accused of siding another party.

As I told her that I don't hold any grudges to her,
I knew she was relieved,
even though she was texting me.
Now,
when I look back at it and ask myself,
am I still hurting from that incident?
And, I realize that I'm not.
I forgive you
I really do.
For,
with these three words,
I'm liberated and so are you.

I see the text you sent me regarding the holiday homework we received.
That's all you ever wanted from me.
Academics.
Just because , and I'll admit,
I score well in tests,
does not mean that I want to help you.
That was why you used me.
You used me and threw me away.
Not before stabbing me in the back.
I trusted you,
I did.
You know what?
I hate you.
I don't hate anyone.
You bring out the worst in me.
***** you.
***** you
I'm done.
I'm done trying to make things right,
I'm done trying.
I'm done.

Whenever, I watch a scary movie,
I am always afraid of going to sleep on that night.
I have no idea why I watch these movies when I always end up screaming.
I know they aren't real,
ghosts don't exist,
and,
the main character is always so stupid.
If my dog were to refuse to enter the house,
I would know something was up.
Even if I do enter the house,
the moment I see something that is supernatural in the least,
I would go running.
Even if I do choose to stay in the house,
I would not enter rooms when the door slowly creaks open
and I would definitely not open the door when I hear random bang-ings in the middle of the night.
See, the people in horror movies are just plain dumb.
This coupled with the fact that ghosts or the living dead do not exist,
is a clear sign that these movies are fake.
Yet, this does not stop me from being scared.

guys, watch this, it's beautiful, it is.

http://www.upworthy.com/7-cowardly-words-from-a-totally-sexist-stranger-sparked-this-cour­ageous?c=mrp1

What is a smile?
To others,
a smile is an expression of happiness,
of emotion.
To me,
a smile is an act.
A facade.
To hide my real feelings.
To hide the perpetual frown planted on this face of mine.
Maybe I fake a smile because I want it to remain frozen on my face,
forever.

The girl in the mirror looks lost.
She looks alone.
I see her in the mirror all the time.
What she does inhe mirror, no one knows.
She looks tired,
weary of life.
She looks so fragile.
She looks like a mess.
She gives me nightmares sometimes.
I can't forget her sunken eyes,
and the way every breath looked like it took all her energy.
She looked lonely.
Who is this girl?
Then, it hit me.
*what have I become?

My teacher told me,
leaders are Alphas.
A pack chooses an Alpha not based on size but,
based on it's ability to care for the pack.
He said we, the leaders, were chosen as Alphas.
Then, he said something that moved me.
He said  that there would always be insecure Betas who are jealous of you.
That's when the bullying starts.
Now I know why you hurt me.
I'm an Alpha and you, an insecure Beta.

~

Freedom is the ability to live without worries.
Freedom is not having to answer to anyone.
Freedom is being able to do whatever you want, whenever you want and without any consequences.
Freedom is always being happy.
Freedom is the ability to have no responsibilities.
Freedom is to not have any stress.
Freedom is to be able to close your eyes and let the ocean engulf you, without dying.
That's right, you deluded soul.
Freedom does not exist.

Glad
Exhilarated
Exuberant
Overjoyed
Ecstatic
I won't have to face my fake class anymore.
*Ever

It was the last day of school yesterday.
Once again you shot me a fake smile and handed me a note,
doused in your cheap perfume.
I opened it to see your innocent looking handwriting,
only now, it looks like blood stains.
How could I have not noticed the vicious monster in you?
In your note you mentioned how close a friend I was to you.
Was I close to you?
Is this what I get for helping you?
I comforted you every single time you cried and now,
I'm the one crying but you're not there to comfort me.
In fact you're the cause of my tears.
Maybe it's because I got too close to you.
Maybe that's why you betrayed me like this.

I've noticed how fragile life is.
Nine months of development in a muscular structure before causing excruciating pain to our host, that being our mothers, and then we torture them some more.
We constantly require attention and when we are teenagers, we're rude to them though honestly, we can't help it. They irk us so much, sometimes.
And then, all it takes is the flick of a knife or, a pulled trigger to end it.
It's so easy.
One simple motion with your hand, and you're a goner.
All that pain, all that time, gone.
In that single motion.
Life is so fragile.
Let's cherish it.

There are demons within me.
They appear every now and then.
I'm not gonna lie.
Sometimes,
these demons convince me to **** myself.
And yes, I have considered suicide.
I thought long and ******* the matter and I decided that it was not worth it.
Why should I end my life over this rough patch?
Then, I ask myself,
Is this just a rough patch?
People say it's part of puberty.
Part of being a teenager.
Why are my demons in control for so long?
Why does only puberty have the ability to make my demons torture me?
What if, it's myself?
What if, I'm my own demon.

How does someone dare to **** someone else.
How do you bear to look at someone and think,
"I want her even if she won't let me."
I mean, that's what must be going through the ******'s mind, right?
How dare you take away a girl's future?
How dare you?
How dare  you take away her first relationship, or kiss, or even her virginity?
How do you live with yourself?
It's just sick.

Drop it.
Yeah,
I made a mistake.
I'm only human.
If you made the same mistake and someone mentioned it even once,
you would become defensive and insulted.
With me, however, it seems to be different.
I am expected to listen to your insults and tolerate your nagging,
without losing my cool.
I can get angry too,
you know.
Sometimes,
I hate you for this reason.

I let the pain take over my body.
I'm *exhausted

I live in my fantasy world.
It is a place where all the characters in the books I have read can come to life.
They become my friends.
They don't lie,
they aren't fake.
Sometimes,
I stay in this world for too long.
I lose sense of what is real and what isn't.
I seem to think that I become a fictional character.
Of course,
that would be ideal.
I wouldn't have to lie.
Even the villains in books don't lie.
They openly hate the heroes.
In real life,
they'll talk behind your back,
they will make your life hell.
I wish I could be a fictional character.
I never will be.
I can't.
I'm always brought back to reality.
If insanity is what can liberate me from this,
then I'll gladly lose my sanity to live in my world of fictional characters.

I feel this burning hate for you rush through my body.
I hate you! How dare you throw my book on the floor.
Then I pause,
aghast.
Do I really hate you just because you threw my book on the floor?
Or has this been pent up since the day I started to speak out?

You try to bring me down
you never will.
You think you can restrain me,
Chain me,
Lock me down,
You never will.

I won’t listen,
Not now, not ever,
I won’t listen.
I just won’t.
No matter how hard you try,
You will never take me down.

Up up up,
to the top, I’ll rise
At rock bottom,
You’ll see your demise.

With razor sharp words, you take your aim,
But your strikes, they miss,
Missed by a long shot.  
Thanks for trying.
you’ll never take me down.

You think it's so easy to forgive you?
You tore me apart,
fragment by fragment.
You watched me burn.
You mocked me.
Why should I forgive you?
You are so full of yourself,
you can't see what's happening around you,
you choose to ignore it.
Now you dare smile at me,
bat those fake eyelashes of yours
and ask me,
'Why do you look so sad?''
I felt like screaming at you,
like telling you that you are the cause of everything.
I didn't.
I just smiled sadly before walking away.

Before the exams started,
all I wanted to do was play.
Now,
after the exams,
all I want to do is study.
The guilt of not studying harder
gnaws at my stomach.
I try to ignore it,
I can't.
Why am I regretting now,
when I could have studied earlier.

The second I stepped out of the exam hall,
I felt the stress lifted off my shoulders,
only to be replaced with the stress of worrying if I will pass,
or not.

Life is my torture,
and death,
my salvation.

Each time I step out of my house,
I feel the societal pressures on my shoulders.
Every time someone looks at me,
I wonder,
Am I too fat?
Is there something wrong with my shirt?
Is there something wrong with me?
I feel judged.
I hate feeling judged.
I've given up.
I don't want to conform to society's unrealistic standards.
Why must I shave my legs?
Why must I wear make-up?
If a guy ever says,
" Hey ------ , you're a really nice girl but we can't be together because you don't shave your legs"
Then that guy isn't worth my time.
I will never change to who society thinks I should be

Do you ever feel like screaming,
but the words don't come out.
I feel like that right now.
I feel like shouting,
like telling the world I'm not okay.
I'm far from okay.
I feel the words clogging my throat,
a burning gobule of emotions bursting with negativity.
I want to scream till I can't anymore.
I want to cry till there aren't anymore tears.
I want to punch the wall till my knuckles are
bruised, ****** and broken
*Just like my heart

Oh Bassanio,
why are you such a mystery?
I can't find any evidence,
you're the cause of my misery.

You are a low-life racist,
You nearly killed your friend!
I'll say,
you are a fiend.

Bassanio,
why don't you just die?
Then,
I can gleefully say 'Bye Bye'.

Don't say I didn't try.
I asked you,
you ignored me.
I tried to contact you.
I apologised SO MANY TIMES.
You didn't say a word,
you never replied to my messages.
You think you're the only one who can get *******?
You think you are the only one entitled to that feeling.
That's just who you are.
Selfish
I shall not be wasting my time anymore.
If you wanted to be in my life,
you never would have left.