Poetry Wednesday


it hurts so much these days

I can hardly tell two separate ways

There are some hours where it seems I can bare all things,

but then the dawn comes and I know; I must fall apart and cry my heart


I knew I could never make it,

I knew I had no chance,

I knew this world would bring me down with everything it had.

I’ve always been a failure.

The girl who wouldn’t do.

I would try my absolute hardest,

but still yet fail when it came end.

So why do I continue

to kill myself in plight?

I need to prove my theory wrong,

I need to win

to show the world I can be right.

But that is impossible,

as all science will show.

I will prove that right time and time again,

as long as I never need to win.

So I will continue,

to sit in the dark corners of my room.

crying out the fibers of my soul that’s brought me through.

I’m not worthy.

They don’t care.

I’m not needed.

Who will notice if I’m not there?

It won’t matter.

They won’t care.

This is so stupid.

Why should I waste their air?

I’m a menace.

They don’t need me here.

I am the very thing that has been keeping them,

holding all them back.

Why should I continue?

Why should I stay here?

Do I have reason to continue living where I obviously do not have a place.

They do not need me.

They do not care.

But what if they did?

Would it change a thing?

Would it make me happier if I had a place?

I will never know, unless I try.

So let’s give it another shot

Let’s kill ourselves in plight.


Ouch ~

bisexual, fuck you, Her, Humanist, Journal, Love, Personal, Sexuality

Things that aren’t nice:

  • Telling someone you have feelings for them, then being rejected by that person.
  • Being friends with them
  • Seeing their posts “I need a significant other”

well, that fucked up my night.
Tears don’t stop after this point, do they?

I mean, I’ve been trying to be there. To be her friend… But friendship shouldn’t hurt this much 

Yeah, I like her still. 

Yeah, I listen to her playlists more than my own.

Maybe I know her better than I know myself, and that hurts because she doesn’t even care to know me like I know her.

She wouldn’t care if I told her I didn’t like bananas, would she? Yet I have it logged in my memory that she doesn’t. 

She probably doesn’t realize that even though everyone else called me cute today, I know she didn’t and that’s what stuck.

She doesn’t feel the same way, and in theory I can handle that. I can deal. 

But it’s harder than it sounds…

She enlightens me….

Yet, she snapped earlier and I wish I could have done something to make it all better.

But I’ll get up tomorrow and text her, I’ll ask her at the end of the day how she feels, I’ll see if I can make her problems disappear… 

This is the agonizing pain of liking a friend.

A Moment of Crisis


I wish I didn’t take my grades so seriously. It’s difficult, I want to keep them up. I do try, but I feel like before I always had the excuse that I wasn’t in highschool yet. Once I was in high school, I was going to get my shit together and be an A student again.

Well guess what, hun. You’re not an A student, you’re a B student. Your shit ran away and you don’t even know where to look to get it together and the world isn’t round.

What did I do to the world to deserve being a B student? I work hard for A’s. I want A’s.

I mean, I could take it as a compliment because it means my teachers see more in me. They think I have it in me to be better,  but getting B’s doesn’t motivate me to be better. It makes me want to quit because I try so hard and am only getting B’s.

Update: I just checked my grades from previous years and I’m actually doing better than before. I just expected more of myself.

Poetry Wednesday


It’s the story of a girl who held it all together 

even when it was all crashing down.

They told her she didn’t matter,

so she told herself she did.

But her words never had the meaning,

while theirs did.

So she told herself she couldn’t,

she said that she would never be.

Those words she said,

seemed more realistic than the ones

that had previously been uttered.

Now she didn’t matter,

To them or to herself.

She let them throw her to the ground,

let them take over her confidence.

All the adaptations that she made,

for the people who encouraged her with hate.

No One Believes Us

Awareness, Domestic Violence, Hope, Journal, Memories, Personal, Poetry

The monster who crept the hallways at midnight,

in a drunken state, blood red eyes, putrid breath.

He raised his hand, I covered my head.

Silent tears were wept as I heard footsteps come down the hall,

Nervous energy, a dark cloud crept over our home.

terrified children, ignorant children,

but we were scared and battered, thinking no one cared.

How does he still control me? I thought we got away years ago. But I can still feel his hand, right before it hit my cheek.

People, they don’t believe us.

They think I tell lies.

He got to them first,

got them on his side,

charming them with his new haircut, clean shaved,

Telling them he’d changed.

Now no one believes us.

Sent us to therapy, said that’d be enough.

but I lay awake at night, hyperventilating, tears streaming down my face,

just because I thought I heard something coming down the hallway.

No one believes us,

To them it’s just about the money

The lawyers bills and court documents,

it’s just a case.

Children and custody,

Splitting the furnishings.

But at one point it was about a scared little girl,

crying in her room.

It was about the family who had a monster, just behind the front door.

Poetry Wednesday


When mom would lock us in our room, and all the lights were out, their voices flooded in the room and I could hear dad shout. Something about business, alcohol, or money, it was one thing or another that kept them from calling the other “honey”.

Light crept in from under the door, but unlike the light at the end of the tunnel, the other side wasn’t pretty.

I laid in bed, tears running down my little face, tugging the blankets toward my chest, and trying to keep the fear at bay.

I busied my mind with boys and books, but the voices grew so loud, the house shook. It was unignorable, and the next day my face was red and puffy, the kids at school would laugh and stare, thinking I was “funny”.

Poetry Wednesday


Let go of the pictures,

the memories,

the shame.

Let go of the fear,

the stabbing,

the blame.

Let go of the tears,

they’re not worth your time,

Give into your fears,

life’s short, don’t waste your time.

Remember your fears,

Remember the blame,

Feel the stabbing,

The hurt,

Relive all the pain.

If you remember it all,

You’re stuck in those days

You’ll keep on crying,

Lose the rest of these days.

Repost: I Don’t Think So

dads, Family, fathers, fuck you, Journal, Memories, Personal

You used to tell me that I was lazy, that I would never amount to anything.

You used to tell me I was scared of work.

What made you say that? Because you cared too much about it. You cared so much about work that you forgot about me, your family.

But that doesn’t matter now. I’m done with you, you are no longer considered family to me. Not anymore.

It doesn’t matter now because I work harder than anyone else in my class, but not to prove anything to you. It’s because I enjoy the sweat and tears, it because I can look  back and say “fuck you, I did it.” but not for your approval. It’s so I can kick the dust in your face as I run past you.

I’m a breed higher than you, though it’s your blood running through me.

I’m a soul worthier than yours, because I have it in me.

I am me and just that one fact right there proves that I am of thicker meaning than 10x what you are.

I can do anything, and I believed in myself when you didn’t.

Now you smile at me and say “I always knew you could do it”, but if that’s even true, you didn’t say it when it would have meant something. I have no proof, and no reason to believe it’s true.

So, I’m saying it now, with just as much respect as you deserve, fuck you.

I never needed a dad anyway.

New Perspective

Beauty, bisexual, Future, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love

I’ve been through major transitions recently, and they have taken a toll on my emotional well being.

As one of my sweet friends once told me, you always have to take the garbage out to keep life running smoothly.

I forgot to take my hypothetical-emotional-garbage out a few weeks in a row and I was having to tip-toe around it.

I have taken a deep breath and found a new perspective, which is necessary for me every few months.

I’m liking this new view.

I finally took out the garbage, purged it over a few days and now it’s finally coming together, I had to drop a few responsibilities, but I’m getting stuff done and slowly gaining momentum again.