Monday, October 29, 2012

maybe it lasts for longer

i said one day of happy equals one day of sad,
but maybe one day of happy means two days
three days 
maybe more
of sad.
after all, i missed today.
i think that makes seven.
i'm sorry, i don't want to be like this.
can you try to understand?
i am no becca bill victim
i just don't want to deal with the world
because there are just as many monsters 
(that i have to face )
before i get out the door.

pros and cons

here is what i like:
your laugh
your smile
your voice
your glasses
your everything
here is what i don't like:
the person you like that i no longer am but i pretend to be because i like your everything.
please hear me.


'i miss being okay'
is what i variate on every time
and everyone understands
they say they know what i mean
when really
i don't know what i mean
after all, i am okay
i still go to school but sometimes i'm too sad
i still eat but sometimes i can't
i still write but it makes me feel worse
i'm still me but i'm not
and yet
i keep living.
i carry on like nothing's wrong
isn't that what being okay is?

Sunday, October 28, 2012

wish I’d been a prom queen fighting for the title
instead of being sixteen and burning up a bible
feeling super super super suicidal
the wasted years, the wasted youth
the pretty lies, the ugly truth
and the day has come where I have died
only to find I’ve come alive

Teen Idle, Marina and The Diamonds

Friday, October 26, 2012

this is not a poem, this is a post.

So I have this journal. I write poetry in it. But it all ends up really personal (actually it's a lot of complaining only with pretty words and semi-formed and stuff) and I don't know if I should transcribe it here. Any thoughts?

Sunday, October 21, 2012


I. Am. Cold.
My room is painted brown
Like warmth and home and good
But the cold is pressing in
Seeping through the window
Until I can't feel my toes
And even my comforter, cocoa and the dog cannot make me warm.
My sister's room is grey
Like a dove and cold and winter
But she lets the ambiance take over
Not the color
And her room is warm
I want to be there
She yells
Why are you here?
What are you doing?
I don't want you here,
And I come back to the cold.
I know that I won't get warm again
Because this time
The cold is inside, too.


There are days that don't feel like enough
Like they don't go on
Like they end too soon
Those days are the ones when I'm happy
Those are the days when I'm okay.
But then there are the days
When my bed is my favorite place
My sanctuary is being alone
And although I beg to be by myself
I am lonelier than ever.

10? wat.

sooooo i already have ten pageviews. and since I'm pretty sure i know who most of said viewers are, i'm just gonna say: i wanna post fanfiction.
like, glee fanfiction.
that is total crap.
also dalton, which none of you read.
so. deal with it.
that is all.
sometimes i write. and sometimes i want to share. so here we are.