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.
It's OkayIt's okay to be sad.It's okay to be mad.It's okay to cry,To not have the strength to try.It's okay.Sometimes people just need toLet it all out,Scream and shout,And that's okay.Admitting something's wrongDoesn't take your strength away.Ask for helpIf you need it.Don't feel weakOr wrongJust because youAren't strongEnough to move mountains.Crying is good.If you didn't cryYou wouldJust bottle it upUntil you burst.You don't evenNeed a reasonWhy -Just have a good cry.Take a long bathAnd watch a movieThat makes you laugh.Bake a cakeJust for the sakeOf making something.Lay in bedAnd imagineUntil the bad thoughtsLeave your head.Just sit back and relax.Because it's okayTo not be okay,And to take a day(Or two)Just for you.
You're a Literal MiracleNext time you’re unhappy.Think about this.Remember that you are a walking,Breathing,Miracle.You are alive based on so many chances.So many different thing could’ve happened.And yet,You’re still here.Remember that,You are literally made of stardust.Matter that has been around,Since the beginning of time.Dreams and hopesAnd fears.Forged in the belly of distant stars.You have cosmos in your veins.And eyes that have stardust in them,That have seen the dawn and ending to galaxies.I know it’s easy to forget this,But it’s true.Everything about youAnd me and everything else around you.Is a miracle.So many perfect things had to come into place,For you to be standing here today.So smile sweet heart.Cause you are a beautiful phenomenonThat was created by miraculous chance.
This is anxietyIt's the constant feeling of not quite rightand I don't know why I feel this way but it hurts(but not in ways that others can understand)and it's the tension in your chest, the rising waterthe aching muscles and the clenching in your coreThat never leavesIt's the headache that never quite fades,just hurts sometimes more than others.It's the constant need to move with your racing thoughts—to bounce or twitch orglance around the room every three seconds just to make sure you're not being watched, you're not being judgedIt's two a.m. and you're lyingfacedown on top of hot sheets, such an empty shellyou don't even have the energy to cry over how tired you arewondering if there's any way to turn your mind off,when you can't even remember what sleep feels like because it's been so longsince you really had a true rest.It's wandering through your days almostwalking into that door andnot catching half of what your teacher says because your eyes hurt
novelthere’s tea you still need to drink.you left it on the counter again, because you’realways forgetting where you put it.it’s probably cold by now, butit’s there for whenever you’re ready.here’s a blanket to lose yourself in.you don’t have to give it back.here’s another book i thinkwill make you cry if i ever find the courageto give it to you. i’ve underlined everyline that made me want to scream, that made mewant to rip out my hair and destroy everythingbeautiful about myself, that made me want todrive across a desert in the middle of the night,that made me fall in love with everything wonderfulthe universe has left to give me.i can’t find the words to tell you what it’s about.i guess it’s about growing up and finding lovebut it’s also about figuring out how to exist comfortablyand it’s about people who are good and people whoare not always good and the things they do and the worlds t
Black Hole Loveyou have taken everything i amyou have consumed all my energyyou have offered zero in returnand now i have nothing left to givethe end
red.i am a rose.you chop my head offand feel my thorns prickpools of bloodflooding the floor,it's impossibleto grow upnow you've drank my water:watch me soil my woeinto your roots.
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?