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I push you away when I only want you closer.
I am difficult and need constant validation.
I constantly question your motives because...
I can't read people.
I have been hurt so many times before.
I have trust issues.
But,most of all...
I don't feel worthy.
I ruin relationships regularly.
There is no limit to what I can destroy with my own insecurities.
I am complex.
Not in a good way either.
I am difficult to be around.
I often times feel uncomfortable in my own skin.
Even just making eye contact makes me feel weird.
I am someone who...
I don't even like.
I don't even feel like I know sometimes.
I think is an asshole.
I think is unworthy.
I have no respect for.
Why would anyone else want to be around me if even I don't?
I don't even know what to do anymore.
I don't know if I want to BE anymore.
I am again alone.An old friend stopped by last night.
She needed to talk.
More for someone to listen.
It made me feel important and purposeful to be the one to prop someone else up.
It meant a lot to me that she trusted me enough to lean on my shoulder.
I loved having someone come visit.
Now she is back home.
Now I am again alone.
For all of the joy I had in being able to help her when she needed it....
I now somehow feel even emptier.
I had gotten used to being alone.
Every night and day me and the cat.
I guess I forgot what it was like to have someone who genuinely cared what I had to say around.
I had become almost comfortable in my self induced isolation.
But,she came and reminded me what it was like to be around decent people...
I think I really miss it.
Because tonight I again just feel so alone.
You...So many of us struggle every day feeling we aren't worthy.
Who defines worthy?
Is it the people that feel so badly about themselves that they have to bully others to prop themselves up?
Is it the people that go with the herd mentality and attack in groups like wolves as soon as they smell the blood of someone who is wounded?
Is it those who hate themselves so much they lack compassion for anyone else?
Get help if you need it.
There is NO shame in asking for help.
Punch a beanbag chair, rip apart a stuffed animal, trash some furniture, break some dishes,scream into the night sky, draw, write..... But, please don't hurt yourself.
Be strong. Please?
The scars will never go away but, they will fade with time and they make you who you are.
The world needs more people like you.
People that know what struggle is.
People who have seen the worst that others can dish out and are strong.
Yeah, you're strong.
You're stronger than any of the people who have made you feel this w
I don't know what to write.I don't know what to write.
It almost seems it's a constant fight.
Do I stick to what I know?
Make it dark and forget the light.
I know, I know...Poetry is supposed to flow.
It seems I always end up asking myself as I write...
Do I have enough to fill the page?
Or will it just end up an unsatisfying small bite?
While there is something to be said for leaving people wanting more.
It seems at times I can't manage the words to even finish my thought.
Fighting my mind at times trying to unlock the door...
The door that leads to my deepest thoughts.
It's a battle I have seemingly always fought.
I can say poetry has helped me find my voice.
I can write these things and post them online.
Leave it up to you to read,judge,like,love you have the choice.
Whatever you choose by me it's fine...
I have never before been able to speak my mind.
With every favorite my confidence grows.
I can only hope in my poetry it shows.
I Won't Let My Illness Define Me.I WON'T let my illness define me.
I won't just shut up,take these pills and deal with the side effects.
I won't be the family secret like so many like me are asked to be.
I won't be shoved in a corner and forgotten.
Like so many before me have been.
I won't just follow along like a good little sheep.
I won't stop questioning EVERYTHING.
Your threats of hospitization only make me more determined.
I am doing nothing wrong.
I am not violent.
Why are you so quick to threaten locking me away and forgetting about me?
Is it easier for YOU that way?
I won't allow you to judge me without understanding a bit about me first.
I won't allow you to laugh at people like me without knowing how much of an asshole YOU are for doing it.
I won't be in the passenger seat for my own life.
With every last breath of my being I will fight this thing.
I won't quit fighting.
I won't quit writing.
I won't quit trying to educate.
I won't quit trying to END STIGMA.
But MOST OF ALL I won't be defined by my illness.
A simple man.A simple man.
A simple man has no need for gold or flashy clothes.
The beauty of his being lies within his soul,the life he chose.
A simple man is often silent and contemplative.
His silence speaking more than words often can.
A simple man isn't impressed by a woman who puts out on the first date,
rather he's impressed by her personality,kindness and welcoming state.
He knows that for things to last they must not start too fast.
A simple man never confuses lust for love.
A simple man will never be outclassed.
A simple man is always humble.
His values and belief in the things he finds important will never crumble.
He will always pick himself up,dust himself off and try again no matter how many times he may stumble.
A simple man is never boastfull or arrogant.
He is careful with his words and actions,never virulent.
A simple man is what I try to be in my every day life.
It isn't always easy...
Sometimes causing me more strife.
I would never change it though.
If anything my desire to be a
Half of my heart.Half of my heart.
Half of my heart is so cold and black.
Half of my heart has been torn to shreds.
Half of my heart no longer beats.
Half of my heart is so diseased.
Half of my heart I keep hidden away.
Half of my heart is done trying.
Half of my heart begs me to not put it out there again.
Half of my heart is so tired and beaten.
Half of my heart hates being so alone.
Half of my heart is willing to take a chance.
Half of my heart is all I can offer you.
Half of my heart is all I can do.
Half of my heart is over and through.
Half of my heart is so cold and blue.
Half of my heart can't stop loving you.
Will half of my heart be enough for you?
Sunshine, sunshine is fine.
I can feel it in my skin warming up my mind.
Seems as of late more cloudy days...
I know every day can't be the best day.
Gotta do what you can right now not hesitate.
Take the bad with the good every day.
The sun is shining and I feel fine.
Happy for a change so different...
Found it within myself which doesn't happen often.
Such a strange feeling to me...
The storm clouds have broken up.
The birds chirping for the first time in weeks I can hear their song.
Feeling less broken and more whole for the first time in a long time...
I don't even know what to do with myself.
I just want to do something to keep this sun shining.
Keep the clouds away...
Even for just another day.
This muscle in my chest still beating...
The only reason this poetry you are now reading.
Delivering to all of my cells much needed food they're needing.
These lungs in my chest still breathing.
Feeding my diseased brain...
To keep feeding it seems almost nonsensical.
Sending these messed up signals,they say because of an imbalance of a chemical.
I guess I don't really know...
I just hope the DR's are credible.
You wouldn't know if I didn't tell you how close I have been before.
How close to ending this.
Thinking about it all night in tears just to pussy out once more.
How close I was to someone finding me dead on the floor.
Honestly I don't know why I haven't....
I really feel like I don't have anything to give anymore.
What's really left when your brain is so torn?
When you swear you've reached the point of no return.
This life I am still living.
This muscle still beating.
These lungs still breathing.
There must be a reason.
There must be some kind of beacon...
Calling me to st
What happens if I'm forgotten?What happens if I'm forgotten
and people don't remember
They don't remember the adventures
that we shared.
They don't remember
all the things we discovered
What if I woke up
and it was all a dream.
A dream where people liked me
and I was no longer unknown
Would all my friends be a lie
and the idea
just a thought
Would they even know who I was
Would all the things I've done
just be another thought
Would I still be alone in my castle
with no one else in sight.
Even though I wish it to go away
what am I without it
I Don't Write For You
I don't sit and ponder how you're all going to take it
before I take the thought and emblazon it
I don't write for you but to you
so that you may take it in and look within
and right then perhaps create a world of your very own
and I will know that if it touched you
I have visited your home
and we have transversed over a shared moment of time
though yours was different than mine
but we are bound by a sense of a common thread
though not the same
we have all bled
we have exposed ourselves to people
and on our love they have tread
we have broken promises
and wished wicked things on others
we have regretted much but have always boldly carried on
we have all been demons and lovers
we have all run and hid under covers
we have done stellar things though no one cared to watch
and we were happy to know we did them anyway
our hearts have broken for someone we didn't meet who met defeat
we have held hands even in times of pestilence
Dangerous GameIt all started as a game
A new experience in life
But this grew and there's no one to blame
Silly us, we didn't know the price
That this love would take
Defenseless, not wanting to break
Trying to bend without caving in
We had decisions to make
Which cause the chaos to begin
Leading us to the end
IgnoranceIgnored...what a terrible word.
It is the equvilant of shunned
Or abanded out in the cold.
It's never fun being ignored
Feeling like everything I do is wrong...
It's the same old terrible song...
I try to to be kind
I try not to mind.......
All the pain you cause, but it's never enough...
Never enough for you to love me...
Never enough for you to care.....
I wonder why I stay at all.....
When I know if I was hanging from a cliff...you'd let me fall.
Do you have a second?Can I tell you something?
Just listen for a second.
I think that you're amazing.
Not just you,
But who you really are.
What I see underneath.
Sure you can be mean sometimes.
But I've seen you be sweet.
I'm not blind.
And your looks are perfect
No I'm not saying you are the most beautiful
Or the most handsome person in the world.
I'm saying you are perfect.
Your eyes can hold a gaze for hours.
Your smile can draw anyone away from the world.
Your laugh can brighten up anyone's day.
And your personality can make anyone fall in love.
I wish I could tell you that in person
But this poem must suffice
Because where you are is a mystery
But who you are, isn't.
Friends of the PastShe was the girl who wanted to drown
She started way too young
Eleven years old and already covered in scares
That child was just the beginning
He was the boy who couldn't take in any more
Everything was always his fault
He met the girl, and tried to save her
But he was too late and took it out on himself
She was the one who was just done with it
She was waiting for her chance to go
She met the girl, and tried to save her
But she was gone before she could do any good
She was the one who took advantage of the poor girl
Used her till she was nothing, then moved on
The girl tried to help her, but was too late
Did she deserve what she got?
He was the one who cared too much
And that made him angry
Everyone got what they wanted, but not him
They were alone in their misery together
All these people came through the girls life
And one by one they left
Eventually all that was left was the first and the beginning
Now even that has gone
I walk through
This dirty street
Who can help
Help me find
The shattered pieces
Of what used to be
But all the pieces
Belong to others
But I keep them
Not to myself
But to return them
To their rightful owners
I write...I write...
I write because it seems this keyboard and these letters are the only ones that understand me.
I write because I need someone to talk to.
I write because no one else cares to listen.
I bleed my feelings onto these pages because I don't know what else to do.
I write because I need a release of emotion.
When I write tears often fall.
I write when I need to figure things out.
I write to give myself a place to vent without judgement.
Sure, you may judge anyways but, I'd never know.
Not like if I was standing in front of you or talking to you on the phone and things got akward or you suddenly had to go.
Not that you would take the time to listen if I was, no one has.
I have even been to therapists that get PAID to listen, it seems they can't be bothered either.
Mistaking my words, twisting them or not even hearing them at all.
So I write.
It's the only thing I have.
It's the only way to share my voice.
Then YOU can choose to read it or not.
For anyone out there feeling a
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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