Something New

Today I cried.

Though it wasn't like the past four nights of crying.

It was something different.

If was something near to a happiness of crying. I'm not sure because it is a feeling I have never described. Though I know for the first time today when I was beginning to break down, my mom was there for me. She helped me with my emotions and didn't make things worse.

She saw I was stressed and helped me out with things, and surprised me with these flannel pajamas I said I wanted, but was a memory long lost in my brain.

For one of the first times I can say I love you to my mom and really truly mean it.

It makes me wonder if I'm just realizing her more these days, or if it's the same but opposite due to recent knowledge of me finally kicking in.

I know it's crazy to even think we should be able to connect on any level. Though slowly, but surely it seems to be happening. I hope one day I could have a comfortable conversation with her. Eventually growing to me being okay with inviting her to my wedding and my kids calling her grandma.

I know this may make me sound like a terrible kid who never appreciates her parents, but you don't know my life and the emotional roller coaster it's been and how the only people I've been able to share that with is my friends and sometimes not even them, because life is a bitch.

Though as I say again, things are evolving. I'm scared about it, but I like what I see so far, and hope it keeps on happening with everyone around me.

My life is me on roller coaster in pitch black. I don't know where I'm going, but the tracks are there, and they're taking me to the light.

Not Just A Box

There's a wooden box in the middle of the stage.

A desk and a chair sit to the side ready to examine the importance of the box.

It waits for the box to do something amazing.

Sing and dance like the humans, or grow and present life like nature.

Though nothing happens and so the desk and the chair qualify the box as junk.

Something useless that the world could definitely live without.

It will never excel or amaze people or anything of those sorts.

After all it's just a box.


That's the point where the world of judgment is more wrong than it's ever been before.

Yes, it is a box, but it's not just a box.

Just is a word that causes limits. It's a word that puts walls tightly around something and doesn't let it grow.

The box cannot sing and dance, nor inhabit life and adapt, but that's because you're expecting it to do something it's not designed to do.

If you need something like a prop for a play, or a place to sit after a long walk, or even something to merely rest your feet on. It is perfect for the job.

If you studied the box more carefully before throwing it away, you'd also notice it is even made hollow so it's light and easy to carry, and their are handles on the side to make it even simpler.

To you it may be a little inconvenient piece of junk, but that's because you are a narrow minded thing that thinks that everything has to be loud and proud and perfect.

Yes, the box may have scratches, but it's because things like this perfect desk and chair to why they have them in the first place.

Even though it does have scratches it doesn't care, because when it is doing what it is designed to do it is happy, and it doesn't want your stupid fancy qualities, because, in it's own petite life,

It. Is. Perfect.

How?

How can this world be real when it's so made up?

Every. Single. Thing.

We give something value because it's shiny.

We created something that never stops and is only a count down to our death.

We created math, and science, and all these things that now must be taught, but are completely useless.

We've created everything in this world besides our own physical selves, and the true things around us like animals and nature.

We've created love. This feeling that is supposed to be what makes the world okay.

We've created hope, because we don't want to face the truth.

These days we have even created our personalities, because people are so cruel in this world where if you are yourself you become a pariah.

This world is fake and broken.

We are broken.

You don't like it?

Go ahead and keep on acting like everyone else. Pretending that all these things will save you.

Just know.

It only makes you more broken.

Untitled

It hurt. Looking at you hurt.

Do you see me anymore?
Or think of the times we had?
Do you wish we could have one more moment?
That this time wouldn't end bad?

The times we laughed.
The times you snapped.
When everything seemed right.
You were my star.
Just not so far.
In the dark you were my light.

You're trapped in my head.
Though I don't know why.
You just left me thinking.
Was our love a lie?

I was so scattered.
Wish I had mattered.
Miss the beautiful moments we shared.
I let you in.
Under my skin.
Yet not once was I scared.

You walked away,
So what can I do?
Because it's hard to admit,
But I was falling for you.

And so we end.
No way to mend.
You gave me an affinity
Goodbye forever.
Time to sever.
But thanks for our infinity.

This Is Not A Poem, Nor Is It For You

You gave me something I can't forget.
Though it seems I'm out of your mind by the next day.
I wonder if you ever think of me.
Or if you ever miss me, and want to go back.

I want to go back.
To all the times we had.
I miss having you by my side, knowing no matter what, you could make me happy.
You became such a light in my darkness, but now you're gone.

You left me questioning if it was all a lie.
If it wasn't then how are you fine right now?
I miss your smile, you eyes, your laugh, and even your ego.
Since I met you not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you.

You're in my head, and I can't get you out.
Why can't I let you go when we weren't even that great?
It's been so long and I feel like you're gone, but you're still here, and a bit too close.
I got to stop holding on, but something tells me not to.

Though I know it's only you and then me. No us.
No correlation, no future, just simply impossible.

Confession Time

I HAVE PROBLEMS!!

My parents say I'm autistic, and I'm starting to believe them.

One time I paced in a figure eight for an hour and twenty minutes muttering about the world.

Once I banged my head against a car until it bled.

My emotions are everywhere and I just know I'm bipolar.

I have depression so bad I can't go a day without it affecting me multiple times.

I'm so antisocial that the only thing that can make me the slightest bit happy is sitting curled up in a corner with a book.

I'm this little ball filled with so many problems I have breakdowns at least twice a week.

I'm an insane, crazy, freak.

Where Do I Go From Here?

I try way too hard to pick myself up, when all I get is pushed back down.

Everyday somehow I grasp onto hope that it will be a good day.

I'm usually wrong.

At times it seems for a while things have gotten better and I'll be going uphill for a while. Though all it was, was a phase. Something that was so temporary is was near translucent.

Then I realize that it's all a lie. It happens every time. New friends, maybe even a guy, but no. It turns out I'm just the pity kid. People pick me up because they feel bad, but then drop me all at once as soon as they get tired.

Of course I have my family though. They aren't temporary. I just wish they were. The one thing that stays in my life brings me down at every opportunity it gets. No matter the size of the problem, or even if there isn't one altogether.

People wonder sometimes why I want to die. Every time they just don't understand. They call me a selfish little kid who just wants more and more.

Well I don't want your money, and I don't want your silly little toys. The only reason I get them is because I'll take anything that gets my mind of my life for even just a second.

Sorry if I seem selfish for wanting friends I know I can trust, and someone who won't just drop me as soon as they get bored.

Sorry if sometimes I open up to you, and overwhelm you with the actual way I am. I just thought maybe you'd care. That just maybe I could find someone who wanted to listen. Who wanted to help me.

I need someone to help me heal my wounds. They've been open for way too long. I know they aren't your problem, but I just can't do it by myself.

So yes, where do I go from here?

I don't know about you, but the only option I see ahead of me is death.