My childhood was filled with deaths. My mother died when I was six, and ever since that day, I've secluded myself from the world. If I could go back, knowing the things that I know now, I would. I would be outgoing, just like I am now. I would show my true colors, and make more friends. I wouldn't have to feel all the pain of feeling lonely all that time because I would be able to talk to people instead of holding back. If only I could go back. My sister would know how much I care about her. My adopted mother wouldn't have gotten yelled at twice a week. It hurts so much to think about my childhood because I didn't have the skills I had now. I know I'm not the greatest writer in the world, but these are my actual feelings. I really don't know how I survived all these years without a childhood. Also, I'm not saying that no one else has had harder things happen to them. I know that many people have been hurt worse.

That day when my mother died, I realized that my life would never be the same. I was right. I remember the funeral, and I remember saying that my mother's hands were cold. I remember, that day, I lost my feelings.

The day that I got diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and ASD was a day that I just couldn't understand. I don't really know that worrying about it helped either.

Basically, I wish that I could change the fact that I was an introvert. I would tell myself to get out there, and change the world. It may not be possible, but I know that I've changed. I really do know that. Thanks for reading my story.

Does anybody else feel the same pain that I do?

Does anybody else feel grey?

Does anybody else know?

What it's like to pay...

For the sin of another?

Does anybody else feel the same sorrows that I do?

Does anybody else feel like the world hates them?

Does anybody else really know,

Like a faded gem,

The hurt of a loss?

Does anybody else feel the same comfort that I do?

Does anybody else feel like that someone's there?

Does anybody else know,

Like a beautiful thought shared,

The grace of someone caring?

Well, this is happening to me right now actually. The only advice I have is to just be yourself, and relax when speaking to them. Don't rush your words, and be kind and gentle. If you are going to tell them how you feel about them, don't force it upon them. Don't expect them to like you back either. And above all, if they don't like you back, always continue to be their friend.

One may someday find,

That they may be blind

To the longing of a friend

They see that you’re sad

And then they feel bad,

It’s the longing of a friend

You push them away,

All the while you feel grey

Oh, the longing of a friend

And now you feel hurt,

You treated them like dirt

Now, you long for a friend.

All the day, I might say,

Goes the Mister,

His hipoto is grey;

the feet of it blister.

All the day, it jumbles around,

the hipoto mumbles a tune;

Makes a mighty fine sound,

And you might just hear it soon

All the day, the yoolick plays

Dancing about with the hipoto

Nobody can possibly say,

what they have as a motto

And all the day, the hunters hunt

For the hipoto, and yoolick

Never finding the runt

But always getting sick.

Does anyone really know the meaning of sadness?

The hurt of the heart?

Of the dearly depart?

Does anyone really know the meaning of longing?

The desperate plea?

That brought you to the knee?

Does anyone really know the meaning of loneliness?

The anger inside,

Yet the sadness deride?

There are things that make us feel this way, and sometimes

You just need a way of getting it out.

Thanks for giving me a place to do it. 

Don't you get it? I'm fine. Oh wait. I'm actually not. I just want you to think that I'm fine so you don't worry about me. You shouldn't have to be burdened by my problems. So for the last time, I'm fine.

I fact I feel so fine that I didn't even what to tell you that I'm fine. I thought that it was obvious that I wasn't fine. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure that when you say that you are "fine," you really weren't fine.

Sometimes, I wish that you would have noticed sooner. Maybe that's why I didn't tell you that I really wasn't fine. So there. Now leave me alone.

I am just a person

We all know it

And when I write

I know that I'm worth it

I write for the fun

I write on the go

I write when I'm sad

I write for the glow

I don't like essays

I don't like the bore

But I do like the poems

Of sadness and lore

This may be

The reason why

I write my heart out

And why I can try