Secrets...Secrets are things that people won't tell,Despite the greatest truthsHidden within them.Secrets are things that people lie toCover up,In fear of you finding out what'sReal.Sweetie, here are a few secretsThat I feel must be shared,Because they've been kept forFarTooLong.You are beautiful. You are stronger than your weaknesses.You are unique. You are different. You are perfect.You are not defined by your sadness, nor are you defined by the stereotypes.You are not broken, despite the the scars and missing pieces.You are powerful.Wonderful.Marvelous.You are a fighter.And, darling,I know no one has whisperedThese things to you.But remember,The only things that people won't tell,Are the secrets.And that's because the secrets are true.
Hello Darling.Hello darling.I see you're hiding behind long sleeves.I can see you trying to cover up your "ugly side" with gemstones and lace, with pretty clothes and make up.But, hello darling.You can show me.Hello dear.I see you're pushing away your dinner.I can see you thrusting fingers down your throat into the sink, trying to hide your secret with laughter and smiles.But, hello dear.You can show me.Hello honey.I see you're hiding behind these precious things that the others care so much about.I see you're upset with who you are, in fear that who you are might upset others.I see you're broken, and I see, you're outspoken. You're lost and confused.I see you're trying to hide something.But, hello honey,Hello dear,Hello darling.You can show me.Because I don't care what they say about you.I won't listen.
Lying is Bad (A message to myself)Hello darling.Have you ever held a needle to your wrist?Have you ever skipped a meal because you were hungry?Have you ever punched your stomach before falling asleep?Have you ever felt wrong, because you told someone you were okay? (After all, lying is bad.)Have you ever rocked back and forth without realizing, until someone else told you to stop?Have you ever slammed your head against your wall so you might forget your situation?Have you ever cried in a thunderstorm so no one would hear your cries for help?Have you ever worn long sleeves and said it was because you were chilly... then felt horrible? (After all, lying is bad.)Hello darling, I know you have.But remember, you're strong. You're worthy.You're more powerful than your sadness.You are incredible.You have been through more than you know,And fought through more than you know...And you've survived much more than you know.You are going to make it.You are going to push through this.You are going to
It's Not Polite To Lie.Hush, sweetie,Do not let their judgments define you.Do not let their hatred construct you.Do not let their words build you.Hush, sweetie,Do not let your sorrow swallow you.Do not let your pain devour you.Do not let your loneliness change you.Hush, sweetie,Stop telling yourself lies,Stop screaming in a whisper that you'reUglyInside and out.Stop telling yourself that you'reWorthless.Stop telling yourself that you'reBroken,And hopeless,And damaged.Hush, sweetie...It's not polite to lie.
We Only Live To DieThis is what we live for—these whispers on our lipsThe drying bits of blood on our paper-cut fingertipsOpening the letters that we left our future selvesA bittersweet reminder of those storybooks on the shelvesThis is what we live for – this emotion in our soulsThe torture and the bittersweet moments of lost controlBiting cracked lips with the dirt beneath our nailsThese moments of imperfection as our trains of thought derailThis is what we live for – shutting doors and opening eyesSmiling for a moment, before the tears reveal our liesThis is what we live for, this reality, this life…This is what we live for,As we only liveTo die.
A letter to my watchersSmiling through your pain,Till the wounds stop bleeding.Running through your cloudsOnce the sky stops raining.Never saying never,Going faster, stronger, betterEven when theRaindrops seem to fall down forever.Till the birds start to sing, andHappiness overwhelms you,And a smile takes over your faceNow and eternally.Surviving through the pain,Until the wounds stopped bleeding.It never seemed it would end,Crying, screaming, dying...Indeed it did, itDied away..Even when the raindrops would never end.
Don't be scared, darling.We're going to try something newEating our meals, and swallowing each bite,Not hiding the chewed up remains under our tongue,And not making ourselves vomit through the night.We're going to try something new,Bringing the liquor down from our lips,Not turning to the alcohol for comfort,Until the addiction rips.We're going to try something new,Throwing away the needles, the pins, and the bladesNot searching underneath our skin for emotion,Watching the wounds and the scars fade.We're going to try something new,Darling, I challenge you, I dare you.We're going to try something new...Darling,Why does that scare you?
Think of This..You want to end it?Think of this.You write your suicide note... And you set it on the table.You take your razor, your silver, two inch razor. And you start to slide it across your wrist. You barely feel a thing. After all, the pain of life is more than the pain of the blade.And you take that belt you never wore, the one that was too tight, the one you starved yourself to fit into. And you wrap it once, twice around your neck... and you pull it tight.Barely breathing, you put the ends of the belt on something to hold you up.Something to strangle you.Something to kill you.And you die.And that's the end, right?Wrong.So, so wrong.Your younger brother, the four year old little boy that you loved so much. He walks into your room, only to find you hanging there, lifelessly. Only to find you with dried tears on your pale face. Only to find your suicide note... the one you left right before you died.And so he runs in tears to your mother. And she reads the note, barely able to brea
Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?I cry. Does that make me emo?I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.Does that make me different?Maybe.But at least it makes meMe.
Attention Seeker"Attention seeker."As I slide the knife across my tongueThe poison resting in my lungsFighting till the war's been won But you're right, this is all done for fun. The rope around my neck as I pull it tightThe struggles I face as I die to fightAnd slowly, I fade off into a dark night...Goodbye, smiles, goodbye, light...Dying, breaking, losing sightOf all that's proper, all that's brightWith all my strength and all my might.. I mean, I do this for attention.. right?
Words on the WallThe sun melted into the glamorous skyThe moon stood there, hidden by sweet lullabies.But mommy was crying, her day had been hardThe tears in her eyes twinkled just like the stars.Her face wasn't happy like it should have beenAnd though she was saddened, she forcefully grinned.I wanted to see Mommy smile through it all...I painted a picture on her bedroom walls.I told her to look, just to come in and seeBut Mommy was angry... she wasn't happy.She threw me down hard on the cold wooden floorThen picked me up, slamming my head on the door.She yelled and she screamed, then she hit me once moreShe slapped me till I couldn't see anymore.My heart then stopped beating, my laugh went unheardThen Mommy got up without saying a word.She looked at the walls splattered with my young bloodThen fell to the ground in her tears with a thud.She looked at my face, then she looked all aroundThen wrote on the walls with the first thing she found.Then, after she finished, she wanted self h
They Hate Me Because I'm A Writer.They hate me because I’m a writer, because I don’t live in their world.They hate me because I can so easily detach myself from this painful reality, with just the type of a key or stroke of a pencil.I plan scenarios that they’ve never thought of, heard of, nor dreamed of. I use characters as pieces of a puzzle, or cards in a game, throwing them through obstacles that are unimaginable.I create worlds that make macabre look as welcoming as light, and agony taste as sweet as sugar.I will twist you and cause you to question your own humanity.When you step into my universe, you will never be the same.If you choose to stay, I may engulf you in my horrors,And if you choose to leave, you will find that it will be hard for you to fully escape me.It’s your choice to hate me, and scorn me for not being like others.It’s your choice to come with me, and become my companion, an equal ruler of this world I have created.
How I SpeakPoetry is how I speak.My communication is weak.Sorry if I don't talk back.Social skills I do lack.No understanding of what to say.Dealing with it everyday.So when I just say nothing,It doesn't mean anything.What to say I'm not sure.My short responses do bore.Only understood when I write.A difference of day and night.Take this as my apology.It's not you. It really is me.
Just Words"I'm fine" is a dirty lie.The truth is that I want to die. "I'm tired" is not even done.It really means "I'm tired of being no one" "I'm better" is but a curse.The truth is that I've never been worse "I'm just cold" is what I sayso my sleeves can hide my scars away. "I already ate" is said with a frown.I starve to see the numbers on the scale go down. "I'm okay" is probably the worst.It really means I'm about to burst. All these things are lies to me.But you take this as the truth because what else would I be?
And Daddy always lied.My legs are covered in bruisesAnd I have a scar by my left eye.I’m not allowed to smile, thoughAnd I’m not allowed to cry.I think my right arm’s brokenBut shh, don’t tell my dad.He doesn’t like to worry bout meWhen he’s already mad.I have a burn on my left wristFrom when he pushed my armAgainst the stove, the hot, hot stoveAnd did a bit of harm.I have a bear, a teddy bear.He doesn’t have a name.He makes me better every timeI’m feeling hurt and shame.Today, my dad came home kind of lateA beer still in his hand.I closed my eyes and waited.He screamed, he shouted, and…Well, my name is Mary StarrAnd this is how I died.But daddy always loved me.And daddy always lied.
Mommy, He's LyingMommy, he said it, he said it was true.Mommy, he said it, he said "I love you."Mommy, he said it, he said it was realMommy, please know how to think, how i feelMommy, this love is the truth, it's the wayMommy, he said it, he said it today.Mommy, he's lying, he's lying to meMommy, he's telling a lie, can't you see?Mommy, he never did mean what he saidMommy, his voice is pounding in my head.Mommy, he's lying, his love isn't pureLove's a disease and he's finding the cure.Mommy, he's lying, what else can I say...Mommy, he hit me, he killed me today.Mommy, he lied to me, why did he lie?Mommy, he lied through his tears, through his criesMommy, his lies I just couldn't see throughMommy, he lied to me.What'd I ever do?
I wanna..I wanna cut myself, but I don'tI wanna scream, but I don'tI wanna run, but I don'tI wanna lose it all, but I don'tI wanna walk away, but I stayI wanna start over, but I stayI wanna disappear, but I stayI wanna hide, but I stayI wanna cry, but I can'tI wanna fly, but I can'tI wanna fight, but I can'tI wanna take revenge, but I can'tI wanna be who I amI wanna live my life rightI wanna be lovedIsn't that alright?Here I standDon't know what to doI feel so lonelyWithout youI love youI miss youI wanna hug youI wanna kiss youKnow that I'm thinking of youKnow that I'm waiting for youI would give the world to be with youMy love
confessions of a misguided poetcertain things in my mindwould be better left unsaid,such as:i. how I stared at a bottle of pillsfor an hour as if they would slide downmy throat on their own.ii. when I stepped out of the showerwith bloody knees and didn't botherto put a band aid over them. iii. why I can't keep a smile longenough for someone to takemy picture.iv. who I wanted to be when I wasa little girl and who I amright here and now. v. where I tried to jump off abridge and landed in waterdeep enough for me to swim in.vi. what I wanted to scream atyou that day but I just stayedsilent and hoped you would forget.no more pretty words andludicrous metaphorstoday; just life,the truth, and everythingthat I never want to tellanyone else.
As I Cry SilentlyI've been out on my own for months, trying to make a name for myself.I've changed so much, yet at the same time I feel like I'm done so little.Why does this spirit called fate prevent me from seeing my family?I try to call my family and they answer, but it's not enough for me.I try to better myself in this isolation, but it doesn't do much justice.How will I ever succeed in this world if I can't make the effort to do it?If you'd like me to be blunt, I think of myself as a failure.No one knows the real me like I do, and that's just a fact.Who the hell cares what I say or do for a living anymore if they can't see it?It seems as if someone wants to know what's on this troubled mind of mine.If that's the case, then maybe there's someone out there who cares.What does it really mean to live in this cold world when you're all alone?I'm just one man out of over seven billion people, and one man is nothing.Then again, I'm not so sure that anyone would care about that.Where will th
Isomnia.To the mocking flash of my cell phone clockThe glitter of morning my closed blinds blockIn a hunch on a chair or a ball on my bedComfortable and comfy but I stay up insteadWith paper and pens and paintbrushes I raiseAnd the stories that unfold on each turning pageYoutube, Facebook, and clicking linksAre the things that keep me from even a blinkRound and round, my thoughts echo and spinClosing my eyes even seems like a sinRedbull, pepsi, and midnight snacksDrinks of sugar in tempting twelve packsThe silence of myself and the embrace of a bookCasting and reeling until sleep's on my hookThey say theres plenty of fish in the seaBut sleep swims deeper than my hook can seeAlone in a dimming desk lamp lightConfronted by morning that stepped through the nightOpen curtains, birds with a morning songIt's a shame I had to wait this long.
Only MeWhat would it feel like,To just disappear.You wouldn't know,If you just weren't here.There is no feeling,Because you can't feel.You can't interpret.You just aren't real.It's so lonely here,Where you used to be.I look around,But it's only me.
DrowningHow wonderful it feelsTo fall backInto the handsOf the water below.Unlike everyone elseWater envelops you,Surrounds you.Makes you feel light,Weightless.Falling downwards,The only directionYou’ve ever known.Your hair moves around you likeSeaweed on the ocean floor.Swaying,Moving,Always stationed.Bubbles that onceHad a home inside your lungsEscape freely into the water.And climb up higherTo the safety of the surface.“This is what is leftOf my existence.Little bubbles floating up,Higher and higher,While I sink,Lower and lower”And as you feelThe last bubble,The last of your air,Flow out of your lipsYou couldn’t help but smile.Even as your lungsScreamed in painAnd agony,You ignored itLike you’ve done for years.Even with the waterSurrounding you,You still managedTo cryOneLastTime.But not in sadness,For now you were leaving.Leaving the pain.Leaving the sadness.Leaving the hurt.Leaving the cruel wordsThat others w