i care about you so much

i want to hold you, to hug you, to kiss your forehead

and promise to give you the whole world

you have my heart and i trust you with it

i want to be your bestfriend; your life partner

i want to grow old together

and proudly look at our children with tears in our eyes

as they walk out of our homes and into the world to do great things

i want to bake with you in the winter

i want to come home to you

i want to spend holidays with you

i want you

and only you

by my side

as my equal

as the person i adore the most

#love #poem #poetry #relationships #heart #trust #emotions #thoughts

Hiding in the bathroom so your little brother doesn’t see you crying,

Locking yourself in your room because you don’t want to talk to anyone,

Bottling everything up because you don’t trust anyone.

Fear of being judged,

Fear of opening up and being dismissed as if your feelings don’t mean anything,

Fear of feeling like you don’t matter.

You choose to be alone

Because you are tired of getting hurt,

Tired of being disappointed

By your family, friends, and others.

But a small part of you wants someone to hold your hand,

To hold you in their arms

And tell you everything is going to be okay.

But you isolate yourself either way,

Because the pain of being disappointed again,

Hurt again,

Would be too unbearable.

#alone #list #poem #poetry #loneliness #pain #hurt #disappointment #feelings

Looking around at my peers, I see reckless, careless, parts of a whole. Almost no one is an individual, except for me. I don’t see the fun in binge drinking, in smoking, in hooking up with strangers multiple times a week. So I sit back and watch, and I can’t help feeling bad for all these people. They waste their youth trying to act like “adults,” but their definition of an adult is any answer to the question: “what can I legally do at the age of 18 or 21?” As an outsider, I sit on the sidelines watching young “adults” making mistakes that they will regret later. I am different from my peers and I am especially different from my closest friends. So what does this feel like? It’s lonely, slightly boring, and very frustrating. Everyone is so willing to do the same thing, the “acceptable” thing, that they fail to recognize how their actions affect others. Selfishness and rudeness seem to be the new “cool,” the new “trend,” the new definition of youth. Being an outsider gives you immense perspective on your surroundings, but sometimes, the new perspectives you discover are not always great ones...

#youth #misfit #outsider #maturity #perspective #teenagers #adults #individuality #loneliness #poem #poetry

You knock on the door, but there’s no answer. The house looks a little worn down on the outside but appears cute and cozy. It was an average-sized house in a nice, quiet neighborhood with three floors. You knock again, but there is still no answer. All of a sudden, the door unlocks and creaks slightly open. Normally, you would have bolted in the opposite direction by now, but something makes you step inside. You close the door behind you and look over the well-furnished and decorated living and dining rooms, and then notice the set of stairs separating them. You are about to explore the kitchen when you feel a tug on your arm. You whip your head around and see nothing, but something tugs down on your arm again. You slowly move your gaze down and see a little girl; she points upstairs. You don’t know where the little girl came from, but she seems familiar, so you curiously follow her upstairs. You get to the top of the stairs and she points to the first door on the right. As soon as you open the door bright, rapid flashes of light blind you and you shield your eyes with your arm. The little girl lets go of your hand and it all stops. She looks at you remorsefully and grabs your hand again. The lights from the room come back, but now that they aren’t flashing so rapidly you can actually see… people? But they’re not real, they almost seem like holographs. Confused, you look at the little girl, she points to her head and then the people in the room. You think for a moment and somehow connect the dots. “Memories?”, you ask her. She gives you a small smile and nods her head, pointing at the people again, signaling that she wants you to watch. Mesmerized, you watch everything being showed to you and a faint voiceover of what sounds like a little girl starts to speak. You quickly look at the little girl holding your hand, but her eyes are closed and her mouth isn’t moving. You turn back to the room as the little girl’s memories play out in a fascinating display that looks like a 3D movie without a screen. You begin to watch and listen more intently as what the voiceover is saying becomes clearer.

“This is where my parents slept. This is also where I slept when they were away, and I felt unsafe in my own bed. It’s odd how I found comfort in my parents’ room when I was constantly trying to hide my true feelings and thoughts from them. This is the room where they probably talked about what I went through, but never truly processed how it affected me permanently. They knew, but they never understood, never considered that the way that they dealt with hearing about what their daughter experienced could make her feel even worse. This is where they probably decided that putting a camera in the house facing the front door was a good idea. It’s funny how something that is supposed to be there to keep you safe can make you feel the exact opposite. Putting a camera in the house focuses on the wrong part of my traumatic experience, and the reasoning I was given by my mother was absolutely disgusting and hurtful. My parents were victimizing themselves in a situation whereby definition I was actually a victim. To feel misunderstood and even disregarded by my own parents caused me to keep to myself, making me feel extremely alone.”

The lights stop flashing and you’re left staring at the room frowning. The little girl tugs on your arm again and brings you to the next door. You open the door and see it's the bathroom. The voiceover and “movie” start again.

“This is the room where I considered killing myself on multiple occasions. I could have drowned myself in the tub or choked myself with the shower cord or even my own hands, but I never did it. Because if I had gone through with it, that means I would have lost the battle I was fighting so hard to try and win.”

Tears were streaming down your face now. “This poor girl,” you thought to yourself. She takes you to the next room and points for you to open the door.

“This was my younger brother’s room. He has no idea what happened to me. He and my grandma were actually in the house when it happened, which my parents don’t and must never know. That would only make things worse. My brother has overheard many conversations and arguments between my parents and me, but I don’t know if he ever put all the pieces together and figured out what we were talking about. One day he will, but hopefully when he’s much older. And if I’m being honest, I hope he never has to find out…”

More tears were streaming down your face now. There was only one room left; you look at the little girl and she looks sad now, but she still points to the door. You open the door and the final pieces of the story are put together.

“This was my room. There are a lot of good memories here, but they are overpowered by the one terrible thing that happened to me in the summer of 2018. I already had depression, which only seemed to be getting worse over time, but it got much worse after what my boyfriend at the time had done to me. We were both 15 when he raped me. We had had sex before, but after the first time, our relationship changed. Every time we were together, all he wanted was sex. And one day I was too tired to do anything, and I told him that too. I said I wanted to take a nap and he said okay. But a few minutes later, he started kissing me. I kind of gave in and kissed him back, but I was still half-asleep. He then got on top of me, and one thing lead to another and in the end, I was raped. It had even been painful at times, but I had this blocked out of my memory until my psychologist told me that if it was in fact rape, it should have been painful. I had even denied it being painful at first but when I thought about it later, I had realized I simply… didn’t remember until she brought it up. When I told him to stop because I was beginning to feel uncomfortable, one time he grabbed my wrist and said, “It’s okay, I’ll just do it less.” I remember it word for word and I don’t think I will ever forget it. Even when I told him it was getting kind of painful, he would stop for a little but then continue the same thing later. All of this happened in my own bed, in my own room, in my own house. My room is where I cried for hours, had multiple panic attacks (one even caused by my father), had multiple breakdowns, and wrote in my journal late at night, where I was free to rid of my own thoughts and feelings. My room was always where I felt the most alone, the most depressed, and the most vulnerable, but now these feelings had been taken to a whole new level, one I was not prepared for. My room is where I was kept up late at night with terrible thoughts because I didn’t feel comfortable sharing them with anyone else. My house had always been a hostile environment because of my strict, traditional, and anger-prone parents, but after I told them what happened to me, I felt mentally and physically trapped. Trapped by a camera watching almost every move I made, if I dared roam downstairs. Trapped with parents who no longer trusted me in the house by myself. So trapped, that the only “safe” place was my room. The only truly safe place for me was when I locked myself in my room and remained alone. Imagine how uncomfortable, how miserable, and how alone I felt, with no one to talk to, pen and paper became my best friend. And finally, this is where we died.”

You stand there in disbelief, jaw dropped, tears still streaming down your face. You pause, processing everything this little girl has just told you, and then realize that she said “we” died. Your eyes almost pop off out their sockets and you look at her with so much confusion and pain, unable to ask her what she means. She takes your reaction as a cue to continue.

“I bet you barely even remember me because you probably don’t like to think about how we lost each other. The story I just told you, it’s our story. I was once a part of you, but now I’m dead. Because I died, you no longer trust anyone you don’t already know, most guys make you nervous, and not nervous with the normal butterflies-in-your-stomach feeling, more like the my-stomach-is-eating-me-alive-and-I-need-to-get-out-of-here kind of feeling. Your innocence was robbed from you, innocence you didn’t even know you had. I am the optimistic, positive girl that once lived inside you until I was weakened by depression and then murdered by that ex-boyfriend of ours. But now that I’m gone, you’ve become negative, passive, think no one has good intentions, and that people are out to get you. You occasionally succeed in covering it up with a very convincing facade. Some days, anyone passing by would think you are a very happy person with a lot of friends and little to no problems. But some days “faking it ’til you make it” is too exhausting and everyone can tell that you’re not okay. Because in reality, you are a depressed, anxious girl with a select few real friends with problems no one would never imagine a high school girl going through, especially all at the same time. A small part of you always knew that I was dead because you have been searching for me for a while. But you have been unable to find the slightest hint of where I went and if you could ever get me back. Your only hope is that the rest of your life doesn’t get worse because you still have your whole life to live.”

#innocence #rape #house #reflection #death #pain #trauma #story #anxiety #depression #mentalhealth #shortstory

You are a strong, beautiful woman

With both internal and external beauty,

Who is more than just a body or a face,

And don’t believe anyone who tells you otherwise.

You are a strong, powerful woman,

A woman with immense potential.

Do not let anyone keep you in their shadow,

Shine like the bright star you are.

Speak up when you feel that something is wrong,

Use your voice to create change and make things better.

You are a strong, unique woman,

Who is different from all the rest in the best ways possible,

So don’t let anyone make you bitter and resentful.

Be proud of these differences,

Use them to your advantage,

Because they are an essential part of the amazing woman you are now,

And building blocks for the incredible woman you will become in the future.

#selflove #encouragement #pride #beauty #woman #girl #strong #unique #powerful #young #potential #star #poem #poetry

These past 2 years, also my first 2 years in high school, have been extremely difficult academically, socially, and mentally. I write in my journal whenever I feel overwhelmed and most of the writing I post comes from it. I have trust issues, so I find that pen and paper are a reliable and relieving when I am going through difficult times. For me, writing is a way to cope with what I am going through, learn from it, and share my experiences. I hope one day my writing can help someone going through the similar things.

#writing #outlet #hope #difficulty #coping #journal #experiences #highschool

Most of what you see is fake.

Fake happiness,

Fake bodies,

Fake reality.

People only post what they want you to see.

The number of likes,

The number of followers,

The number of comments,

All determining your worth.

Constantly comparing yourself to what you see.

Wishing you were one person,

While laughing at another.

A platform for bullying,

A platform for harassment,

There’s only so much a person can take.

But even after recognizing all of this,

Most people still can’t let it go.

Instead, they are... obsessive over it,

Dependent on it,

One might even say some people have become addicted to social media.

#socialmedia #technology #fake #obsession #dependence #addiction #poem #poetry

Silence

No more long buzzes,

No more anticipation of a response,

No more lack of responses.

Loneliness

Feelings of rejection when no one made the effort to reach out to me.

Tired from trying when no one else was,

Tired of trusting when betrayal always came next.

But when that buzz made the table vibrate,

And a feeling of importance,

Significance,

Worth,

Came with it .

Notifications began to have too much meaning.

Social media became an obsession.

When would this cycle of unhappiness end?

The constant comparison of myself to others,

The constant search for validation from everyone else.

A wish to be noticed,

But from who?

Anyone who would give me their attention.

But they always wanted something,

They always wanted to do more than talk.

But that wasn’t the goal?

Deep down all I wanted was to feel wanted,

Desired by someone else,

But I felt the only way I could get that was with my body and my looks.

I mean that is the first thing people go for.

But after being treated like an object for so long,

It wasn’t healthy for me to be thinking like this.

It was a hopeless search in all the wrong places for someone who would care for me,

Someone who would appreciate me,

Someone who would love me.

Because I was desperate to find someone to pick up the pieces

That everyone else had left behind.

Teenagers

Everyone seeking to fill a void,

Whether with alcohol, smoking, drugs, or people.

No one is true to themselves,

At least not most people I know

Because of fear of non-acceptance

Into a crowd of fake people.

Seeking to impress everyone and

Eventually failing to impress yourself.

Too much pressure,

Whether social, academic, or other.

We hide our problems behind all the parties,

All the drinking, smoking, and drugs,

All the hooking up.

Because all these things are distractions

From the struggles each of us tries to cope with every day.

Almost everyone is fake and with ulterior motives.

So I logged out,

I shut it off,

Because I needed a break.

I needed time to myself without the poisonous buzzes.

Because my head was already plagued with thoughts

And I needed to get away from such a fake world.

Silence

Both peaceful and stressful.

But it’s nice knowing I have some control,

Because I can always remove myself from the false reality in my screen

No matter how hard it tries to suck me back in.

I can decide when I will log back on,

I can decide when I will log back off,

I can reflect in the silence and figure out how to not go down the same road again,

Of searching in this fake world for real happiness.

Because I will only be disappointed in the end.

#socialmedia #teenagers #distractions #fakeworld #silence #phones #stressed #loneliness #poem #poetry

You are a strong, beautiful young woman

Who has been put through hell,

Who should not let her miserable past define who she is.

You are a strong, beautiful young woman

With both internal and external beauty,

Who is more than just a body or a face,

Who deserves much better,

And one day someone will see you for the woman you really are.

You are a strong, smart young woman

Who is growing through her writing,

Who will one day teach other young girls that they are worth more too.

You are a strong, smart young woman,

A woman with immense potential

Whose past has made her into the woman she is today.

You are a strong, powerful young woman

Whose voice can only get louder,

Whose words can only get more powerful.

You are a strong, powerful young woman

Who can create change if she is determined to use her voice,

Determined to put pen to paper.

You are a strong, talented young woman

Who must tell everyone her story

So that other teenagers can learn they are not alone

And parents can learn how to be there for their child in difficult times.

#empowerment #reflection #woman #poem #poetry #strength

Everyone seeking to fill a void,

Whether with alcohol, smoking, drugs, or people,

It's all a disguise.

No one is true to themselves,

At least not most people I know

Because of fear of non-acceptance

Into a crowd of fake people.

Seeking to impress everyone and

Eventually failing to impress yourself.

Too much pressure,

Whether social, academic, or other.

We hide our problems behind all the parties,

All the drinking, smoking, and drugs,

All the hooking up.

Because all these things are distractions

From the struggles each of us tries to cope with every day.

#socialmedia #technology #teenagers #thetruth #fakeworld