Reality's EdgeI know that a lot of people tend to believe that mirrors are a certain kind of portal to another world; a world that was just like ours, yet somewhat... corrupted. Just a little bit out of place. It all looked the same; there wasn't a thing out of place. And yet, still, there would always be that feeling as if something weren't quite right, not quite the way it should be. Like the way one might feel when they knew they were supposed to remember something but couldn't remember exactly what. I always figured it might feel like that.But that's not all of it. Some people also believe that that reflection in the mirror, that one that looks just like you, isn't you at all. It's some sort of monster. One that wants nothing more than to trade places with you so you will live the rest of your life in the corrupted world and so it can live your life, steal your real friends, real family, and you know what will happen? You'll become that reflection. You'll simply be mirroring the life of that th
A PoemA PoemHappy,Sad,Depressed,Angry,Excited,Dead.Always changing, never the same;Always different, but always vibrant.Not a day goes byWhen she's not being completely,Honestly,TotallyHerself.This is a poemAbout someone who will neverIn their lifeBe someone who they aren't.
Falling ApartFalling apart,Breaking down,I'd like to say I don't deserve itBut I do.
You are StrongYou are so, so strong.Whatever you’re going through,Just keep onKeeping on.The time it takesMight be short or long,But you will findThat perfect placeWhere you belong.Just hold on.
The Words you Don't want to HearBy the time,You read this...
My Mother Found a Suicide NoteI'm going to paintthese white walls redwith a loaded gunand the pull of a trigger.Say goodbye to allof my worries and insecuritiesand add another notch to my razor.Another handful of pillsto take away the painand the lies of yesterday.Inhale the poisonto quicken the diseasethat's slowly killing me.Allow the numbnessto run through my bloodstreamand silence my demons.My body is becoming coldand I cannot feel a thing anymore.The white walls are red,my razor has another notch,the lies of yesterday are gone,the disease has reached my heart,and my demons are quiet.I'm home.
It's Okay to be SelfishSometimes, you have to do things just for yourself.And that’s okay.Sometimes you’ve got to stay in bed,Empty your head,And think of all the nice thingsYou've ever had saidTo you.And that’s okay.Sometimes you’ve got to cry,Scream like you’re going to die,And just lieAround, being sad.And that’s okay.Sometimes you’ve got to shut everything out,Just forget aboutWhat you want to be without.And that’s okay.Sometimes you’ve got to talk,Just let the words walkOut of your mouth,Carrying your thoughts with them.And that’s okay.Sometimes you’ve got be selfish.And that’s okay -You do whatever it takes,To get you through the day.
That's So Gay"That's so gay,"Is what you say,But silently,You've pushed oneOf your friends away."Oh no, honey,Boys don't playWith Barbie dolls."By enforcing gender roles,You are killingYour kids,And telling themThat you'll love them no matter what**Conditions apply.Don't push your loved onesAwayWith things you do or say,Because words hurt;But they hurt mostFrom the mouths ofThe people that told you,They'd always love you.Saying, "that's so gay",Or making them behaveIn a gendered way,Is telling themThat it's not okayTo be somethingThey can't help.(And even if they could,Why wouldIt matter?)And it will hurt themForever,And every time you're together,They'll be wondering;"Am I wrong?""Do I really belong?"Every time you say something like,"That's so gay",You burn someone's trust away.And you can't build anything backFrom ash.
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondlyof passions and talents,of guitars and stars,with such breathless intensitythen stops short andapologisesfor speaking at all.All because somewhere in her life,someone she loved broke her heartby ignoringher beautiful wordsand telling her toshut up,keep it down,nobody cares.People aren’t born sad.We make them that way.
The Third DeathFor RonThe first deathturns your bodyinto the grassand trees,every breath of air you hadsent sprinting like childrenacross the blue-sky meadow.The second deathis when the laughterand champagne-gold connectionsquiet into sparks.Illuminating our citiesfor as long as us.The third deathis when your actions stophaving impact.It is never,it is when post-heat velvetbursts into a new cosmic flower.Breathtaking anicca.Every kiss, every laugh,all those tears-they turn the Sun.Every laugh of inkthat bursts from our pens-that is the immortal part of us.Life, this ball of beauty-chaos,it is to be cherished.You gave usso many flowers.May their petals live forever.
A Letter To The Girl Who Hates Her BodyA letter to the girl who hates her body.A letter to that girlWho scrolls through tumblr.Admiring all of those models.With thigh gaps that look cute with skirts.And a waist that you can barely see.You're beautifulA letter to the girlWho looks at models,For their curves.The way their hips go outwardsAnd their size D cup breasts.You're beautiful.Please don't look in the mirror,And hate the girl you see.That girl is youAnd she should be loved unconditionally.Because you deserve love.And how much love is not determined on your waist size,Whether you're chubby or skinnyYou're still so very pretty.You're so perfect.So for every time you look in that mirror.And tell yourself you aren't worth it.That you're arms are too big,Your hips aren't big enough.Stop.Tell yourself.I am a woman.A lady.I am strong.I have a body like a castle.A kingdom made just for me.And I will not destroy that castle,By trying to starve myself.By taking brick by brick and dismantling it
Your apologies are oldI took yourapologiesand shoved themin the drawer,I let themtarnishwith time:now they'rerusty silverware.
Wasting Time and TearsDo you know how many tears I have wastedOn you, because you left?But then you come back, and everything is happy again,For a while.Then you leave again,And I cry.I just keep wasting tears, don't I?