Know your worth!

Never accept second best !

Only accept what your worth!

But what if God, is treating me like a participation medal

What if he leaves my hopes and dreams laying on the dirty bathroom floor ?

How do I stand up for myself and my self worth then ?

What if when I pray he hits the skip button and makes the face kids make when they eat vegetables ?

What if he sees my tears and step over them like a dirty puddle in his way?

What if he sees my efforts and scoffs ?

I've been crying at the moon since I was eleven

hoping,

praying,

begging just for God to listen

He hasn't

And I give up.

What can you do when the thing that saved you is now gone?

I've put pen to paper and fingers to keyboard

I have so much to say

I have so much to tell

But I remain unable to speak

not even to lie

much less cry

What can you do,

when you cannot rid myself of darkness

not even by writing

I've put pen to paper

fingers to keyboard but still here I am fighting

Before I could write and it felt like a scream

Like all of my worries and problems were fleeing

But now my words seem dull

they don't rhyme

nor do they reason

There is no structure ,

nor is there hope

for what's trapped in side me

is too much to hold on paper

In the battle of my talent vs my pain

my pain seems to be bigger and braver

I’ve been crying at the moon the universe the outside , god , the window my pillow and all other things I think would listen ; to send me love . Some one for me , but what if of They listened, what if they heard the desperation of a prepubescent girl begging to know what love feels like because lying that she had felt it started to make her feel raw , it made her chest hurt , it felt like a black whole opened in her chest ant was sucking her in . But what if she just didn’t know , what if she won’t ever

i read through my will, I mean my poems , and I laughed not because it was funny, i stopped laughing at my mental illness years ago , but because If ended this unending river of darkness that tears at my mind and slowly turns every good memory bad , everyone would be shock , unless you read my life story, let’s call it that . But i noticed no one like my lyrics anymore, has everyone shifted Melodies , did you all grow out of feeling the way I do , did you all get friends who saved you , did you— fall in love , if you did can u teach me ,it was etched into my brain that men are bad and i know that it’s not all but when everyone tell you something your whole life you belo and even when you know it doesnt change what you believe

21 and untouched , if anyone asks I just haven’t found the right guy

the truth , my Love language is touch yet I get an anxiety attack when I feel like I’m about to be touched

yet I hug everyone, could you tell

21 and broken, I cry when I see people with people who love them , I cry when I see a mom and a daughter laughing, I cry when I see a daughter safe in the arms of her father , I cry when I see my siblings because i know they are loved especially by me yet I’m always smiling , could you tell

i Call myself a writer but I only write when the dark thoughts are winning , when I feel my chest tighten and I’m holding back tears and I’m weak , yet if anyone asks what’s my favorite thing to do I say write , I love the pain could you tell— it’s all that I know , it’s all that I have it’s who I am , could you tell

I felt like dying but didn't want to for the people around me or for a more truthful line the person around me

But now I want to die, I feel like I'm dying and I'm sick of everyone and everything

I used to count the reasons to stay alive

1._

That's it.

Sometimes I write poetry and sometimes I sit and cry as I let my self go in words , trying and failing to ask if anyone is listening, if anyone would care in 6 months after my funeral where everyone would lie and say how lovely I was, how much potential I had and how loved I was

When in reality I was made out to be the villan so many times that I started to believe it , I stopped having to remind myself to be the villan to keep myself safe . It came naturally, I was the villan, I am the villan

And there is nothing people love more than a dead villan

I'm losing my self slowly

That's the problem with change

You see progress but truly

It's your soul growing

It's my heart taking a hammer to everything i though I was

That's the problem with maturing

I did it too soon , I forgot smiling

I didn't learn to enjoy laughing

But the crying

The crying and screaming and the pain

They come running

I thought that if I murdered myself and rose from the ashes I would be great

But I'm still mourning the old me