i could feel your eyes on me as i laughed
i looked up across the room and there you were
looking straight back
you weren't wearing your glasses
and i don't know about your contacts
so i don't know how much of me you could see
even though i've shown you more than most will ever
i'm sorry for that burden
that painful privilege
i hope you could see me today
well enough to notice my hesitation before i looked back
to the source of my cheer
you are the source of confusion
my desire has been untangling itself but i fear i'll never be free
and i'll be stuck under your gaze
while you continue to not love me

Blurred images
Hazy edged pictures
Images with burn holes 
Things to see behind
Clouds of lingering sleep
This is the first time in awhile
I've actually felt okay
The world is still moving to fast 
And me too slow
But my mind has a window
So I can see and hear 
Though my throat still 
Struggles for sounds
My hands form letters
That form words
That form phrases
My thoughts on pages 
My feelings on paper 
My soul wrapped into words
That will never be spoken 

These are my own words written by someone else, hope you guys enjoy my first poem in a while, things are actually improving. If im lucky i'll survive -Andy

Why am I not Happy?
I live a good life.
Good Friends,
Good family,

Good everything.

I'm not hungry
I'm not worrying about my medicine
I have a roof over my head.

But why am I not happy then?

Is it because of that whispering thought
Your friends think your annoying
Your parents are tired of you
You're ugly.

And you feel even sadder.

But then that other voice pipes in.
What are you doing!?
Why are you feeling so sorry for yourself?!

And you become guilty

What are you doing?!
You have a house and clothes
Food and medicine
Stop moping around!

And you feel even worse

You start aching
When you walk
And when you breath

And you become tired.

And soon, crying is every day
You can't tell anyone
And soon you feel the worst part
Of this vicious *****

Now you're alone.

A scar on my wrist,
To you it's just a mark.
I know how it was placed there,
Alone in the darkness.
Odd how esoteric,
A single slice may be.
To me a cry for help.
For you slipped sheath.
Only the ones who done it,
Are the ones who can see.
The marks on your wrist,
Was from a mental disease.

If "disposable" is one of the words that come to mind when you think of me, even if it's intermingled with "beautiful" and "lovely"
I don't need you in my life