How could you have been so dumb?
He never loved you- no one ever will.
Poor, poor, stupid you.
You knew it from the start.
Why are you crying?
Poor, pathetic you.
All alone again with nothing to do.
Driving around trying to pretend,
like you don’t need friends.
You know no one will ever like you.
Go ahead, cry home to Mommy.
But she’s not there, she never was.
None of them get you,
they’ll never understand.
They’re why you want it all to end.
Surf the web,
facebook and twitter,
Everyone is so much better,
than anything you could ever be.
Scribble in your notebooks,
fill your sketch pad,
mush a hunk of clay,
it makes no difference, anyway.
Cry and scream- but you’ll always be this way.
Crawl into bed,
just try to breathe.
There is nothing to believe.
Life is over, but it never really had begun,
because you are nothing and worthless to everyone.
It’s waking up and wishing you hadn’t.
It’s cursing the bird that’s chirping TOO FUCKING LOUDLY outside your window.
It’s hating the sun.
It’s the storm cloud of soul crushing sadness that hovers- all the time.
It’s pinching the fat on your stomach and hips and thighs.
It’s feeling so exhausted, you have to crawl from bed to the shower.
It’s crying in the shower.
It’s being unable to look in a mirror without wanting to kill yourself.
It’s collapsing on the bathroom floor in tears.
It’s blasting music to drown out your screams.
It’s the carefully planned outfit to make everyone think that you are fine.
It’s Vodka for breakfast…and lunch, and dinner.
It’s telling your friends and family that life is normal- whatever the hell that means.
It’s the anger and rage, always ready and waiting, in your back pocket.
It’s the lie you tell when someone ask’s how you are.
It’s trying to work when you just want to go to sleep and never wake up.
It’s feeling useless and talentless and without purpose.
It’s feeling hopeless and lost and alone.
It’s the motivation that comes from trying to hide.
It’s watching a child smile and trying to remember if you were ever that happy.
It’s watching the couple holding hands while you hold a knife.
It’s watching blood drip from your body.
It’s holding your breath hoping no one talks to you as you run to your car.
It’s hating everyone for not talking to you as you run to your car.
It’s trying to drive in a straight line.
It’s walking into a bar and finding relief in the bottom of a glass.
It’s the sense of empowerment and recklessness that overtakes you.
It’s feeling invincible when you can’t even walk straight.
It’s trying to seduce someone when you can’t speak coherently.
It’s using someone to get out of yourself.
It’s staring into a person’s eyes and seeing someone else.
It’s the rush of getting away with something you know you shouldn’t.
It’s the guilt that immediately follows.
It’s reaching for a bottle of pills to cure a pain you can’t describe.
It’s feeling judged for buying chocolate.
It’s feeling like a beached whale.
It’s crossing the streets and wishing a car would hit you.
It’s watching the sun go down and knowing you will never be anything special.
It’s wanting to go home.
It’s walking into a dark and empty house.
It’s wanting to be alone and yet not wanting to be alone.
It’s watching the clock and feeling your life dissapear before your eyes.
It’s throwing up again and again and again.
It’s hating everything about yourself.
It’s crying on the bathroom floor.
It’s feeling so cold that nothing can warm you.
It’s sadness that physically hurts.
It’s hating the smiling blonde on the computer.
It’s throwing your computer across the room.
It’s staring at your phone and willing it to ring.
It’s scribbling page after page, trying to make sense of whats in your head.
It’s being unable to write because your hands are shaking so bad and you can’t see through your tears.
It’s screaming into your pillow until you loose your voice.
It’s hating everything about yourself.
It’s believing that nothing will ever be ok.
It’s believing that nothing will ever change.
It’s watching the sun rise and trying to live another day.
Solitary street light beams rays,
into a dark night,
filling the empty seat,
next to a sleeping angel,
and one condemned.
Blood red walls,
behind harsh barred windows,
judging, accusing, cursing,
the frost bitten flower,
sighing its last breath,
it was the last.
Summer has gone,
only winter remains.
Cold, unfeeling, and uncaring,
turning home to grey,
forever grey, stealing all light away.
a gentle current.
and foggy air.
and chilly feet.
Cars pass by in a steady beat,
the dying tree,
or the crying swan,
all searching for the sun.
A man and a woman walked along the edge of a cliff,
never thinking they might slip.
Beauty all around, but they could not see,
focused only on what the other might be.
Two steps forward and one step back,
a tragic yet beautiful kind of dance.
The sun was setting, away in the distance.
The man and woman covered their ears, afraid to listen,
to the restless noises of the night.
They tried to talk to eachother to try to hide their fright.
Noise surrounded them, all around,
terrifying sorts of sounds.
Panicked, they clung together so tightly neither could breathe.
How had they gotten there? Neither could believe.
Like a gentle breeze, the whisper appeared,
calling, promising to release them from their fears.
Eachother instantly forgotten, they reached out their hands,
and gave in to the whisper’s unceasing demands.
‘Jump! You can fly!’
That little voice readily replied.
Eyes straight ahead, heeding nothing else around,
their feet left the ground,
and they drifted for a moment, brief and blissful,
but those who defy gravity must pay the toll.
In midair their eyes met,
and both quietly wept.
The crash was sudden and violent.
They came to alone, wandering what it all had meant.
The sun rose and another day began,
for one woman and one man.