Liar, Thief, Addict

She is just a girl
A girl of not yet eighteen
She lives like today is her last
This girl, she lives fast

Her mornings are spent in a sick, sleepy daze
From the pills she stole the night previous
And her alibi is weak
More so than her future, bleak

She lives in a glass house
And still dares to throw stones
For she knows not the bright
She lurks in the shadows of the night

The girl dances around truth with her words
Creating a manipulative curse
Allowing her to gain some control
Unknowingly losing her soul

The Beginning Of The End

It’s starting to come close
To the day I’m no longer so morose
I can feel it, it’s nearly time to not pretend
It’s nearly the beginning of the end

When strengthening me are those I care for
And when happiness is no longer a chore
One I work tirelessly for and still get underpaid
My lifetime will soon be made

Things will get better soon I hope
I’m damn near the end of my rope
This is coming along
And it finally feels right, not wrong

Changing in me is my whole person
After all, life couldn’t seem to worsen
So the dreary days are soon to be gone
And I can feel the way I’ve dreamed all along

The days are brighter
Or maybe it’s from being a writer
Where the heavens seem to collapse for words
Or is that just a myth I’ve heard

The glimmer of hope seems to be restored
Filled with daydreams of joy galore
My mind in constant motion
Inspired by simple notions

And thoughts of odd are within
But that’s nothing of a sin
Because they are thoughts of readiness
And nearly gone are those of emptiness

It’s starting to come close
To the day I’m no longer so morose
I can feel it, it’s nearly time to not pretend
It’s nearly the beginning of the end

In The Air

Some nights before I speak
I let my irrationalities peak
And I let out silent cries in despair
As an angel cursed with nightmares

Causing my heart to crave a foggy glow
That which some pills might show
Making me want the simplicity of comatose
Which involves nothing more than a higher dose

My anxieties trying to complete my soul
I tell them to yield, I put them on hold
A loud heartbeat is nothing in comparison
To the dozens of times my mind churns within

I gather inner strength from lack of air
And try nothing more than to take care
For every moment I waste not breathing
It’s another I live internally bleeding

Irrationalities filling my mind like stars in the sky
Making my mind anxious and my heart shy
And all the while I misread it as being gleeful
When reality reveals it as being lethal

I make realizations about who I was
And the reasons behind the ‘because’
So I replaced my sadness with insecurities, irrationalities, anxieties,
And the sadness crept right back up to overwhelm me

Haze

Is this life too fast for me,
Is it too late for me to be free
Or am I simply too slow
To live in this frantic flow

My mind racing around jumbled hearts
Laying on the floor, pulled into parts,
My drunken mumblings were not enough
For you to stick around when things were rough

It could have come out all wrong
I could have admitted that I’ve loved you all along
But while my mind wasn’t at it’s best,
I wasn’t in a spot to lift things from my chest

So instead I made myself a fool in front of you
And forgot how to myself be true
Part of me died that night
And thinks you were always right

As much as I hate that about the truth
I will forever remember that night of my youth,
Where a drunken night of vodka and smiles
Turned instantly into a night of hardships and trials

A night of laughter turned sour
Where my night was slumber-less throughout the hours
And the way you drove away replays in my brain
And causes a painful strain

My first memory of a drunken haze
Is impossibly lost in a daze
I was too worried about the way you felt
And how you’d react to the cards you were dealt

I was scared and upset,
My heart in utter fret
My beliefs astray
And to my God I did pray

I love you too much to have you go
I’m sure that clearly shows,
By the scared look in my eyes
To me it comes as no surprise

Is this life too fast for me,
Is it too late for me to be free
Or am I simply too slow
To live in this frantic flow

Not A Relapse

I'm mentally impaired,
In despair,
Mentally unprepared
And genuinely scared

I'm taken over by a monster
One called addiction and relapse
One called abuse
That is the truth

I'm overcome by drugs, trying to be free
Of the fears and sights I feel and see
And by the pills I might swallow
For in my sorrows I wallow

The drugs play with my mind
And tell me I'm just fine
Altering reality
Creating inner brutality

I sit here half drugged off a normal dose
And to a lot of things I feel close
My mind bringing back old times
And my old pathetic past-times

 Still my mind feels tired and gross
And my body lays here morose
I try to mentally replay the sounds of a symphony
Before I awake back into reality

I'm mentally impaired,
In despair,
Mentally unprepared
And genuinely scared

Depression Hurts (Written in February 2012)

My television says to me ‘Depression hurts, but you don’t have to’
Well yes, yes I do-
I don’t have some mutual understanding in my family that says if it sucks,
Well, then we will help you-
We have this thing called ‘everyone gets depressed sometimes’
And it’s not a big deal to feel the way that I feel
But it is.
And it doesn’t matter what they say, cause
I know I am right all the way
And I don’t need to question how I feel
I only have to question how I deal-
The way that I have to swipe a blade on my skin
Just to make the pain go away-
Or make it seem that way
It’s not fair and it doesn’t seem right
But I can’t bring it up,
It’s something I don’t feel strong enough to fight
If I could I would but I know that I can’t
My parents just won’t understand
And I don’t care that I am left alone in my thoughts
I care that you and everyone else are not
Jealousy overwhelms me when I feel like I’m the only one
And that I feel like I’m alone
I care that despite my best efforts
I will never be like you
And I will never like you
But that you will always be better than me
And that it will fuel my frustration and hatred.
It makes me sad and it makes me mad
Mad to know that you can get help,
And that I know I can’t.
It’s a double standard.
It’s just not fair-
But when I get so mad that I can’t even breath-
And you are the cause, and you are the reason
You are always so composed-
If you only knew that I hurt the same.
In the grand scheme of things, life is but a game
I’m playing and I’m losing
While you’re left there schmoosing.
Doing nothing to get it, you are there with a psychologist
And I’m left all alone, trying to scream
Waiting and waiting for the dream.
It’s not reality where I’m from
I’m all alone to overcome
Without help that I desperately need.
So until the day comes that I can look you in the eye
I will stand here seeming wry
Because my heart, it aches
And I make mistakes
In dealing with the pain I feel
To remind myself that life is true
And that life is real.
I will stand here with my heart open,
Pouring itself out
For I’m living with self doubt
Self doubt that reminds me that I will never be good enough to tell you,
And you will never find out.
I just want you to know,
I just want my feelings to show
My television says to me ‘Depression hurts, but you don’t have to’
Well yes, yes I do-

Pinky Promise

What happens when suicide is only a pinky promise away?

When thoughts are astray?

What happens when you aren’t okay?

And when the lines of life are frayed?

 

Is it something you live with?

Is beauty all a façade, or a myth?

Or is it something for which you would die?

And something you would try to justify?

 

What would happen if you thought of it every day,

But you had to promise that you would stay,

Forcing a smile and bursts of joy,

Playing with your heart as if it’s a toy

 

What is the meaning to life?

Is it simply to live, and then die?

She needs to be looked in the eyes

And have someone know that she’s not fine

What happens when those around are leery,

And she has to prove how she is no longer cheery

And that joy is long gone

And that from life she is detached and she has withdrawn

 

Where did the love go?

What about love that wasn’t all for show?

When people had so much to live for

We long to have it restored

 

What happens when the girl has nothing?

And to the thought of death she clings

When she prays to die in her sleep

Laying there, in a crying and pathetic heap

 

And moments are hours, hours months, and months, years,

Or at least that’s how it appears

The hearts and minds of children wrecked

And nothing but broken pieces to try and protect

 

What happens when suicide is only a pinky promise away?

When thoughts are astray?

What happens when you aren’t okay?

And when the lines of life are frayed?