Hand Me Off (song I've written.)

Black and white
Have never felt so right.
So many shades of gray
The color’s washed away
Beetles and bug-eyed
We’ll turn to the right side
And left it too loosely
Tied with the accusing

Well go, hand me off now
Into the crowd, who’re screaming out loud.
Bend me until I break
This was no mistake
I’ll eat my own cake and I’ll make it, too.

Old and stumbling along
Just hummin’ a song
Free their poor arms
All tangled and harmed
I’ll be where you are.

Well go, hand me off now
Into the crowd, who’re screaming out loud.
Bend me until I break
This was no mistake
I’ll eat my own cake and I’ll make it, too.
And make it too.
We hold the truth.
To tie up this youth, in denial
Told you so it’s alone.
Left here on your own
But roll your own stone
So it goes again.
And it goes again.

So misunderstood
They tell you it’s too good
To be close to the truth
You know “we don’t know you”
So wrap up again
It is time to pretend
When the wreckage distends
Then I’ll shout it out loud.

Well go, hand me off now
Into the crowd, who’re screaming out loud.
Bend me until I break
This was no mistake
I’ll eat my own cake and I’ll make it, too.
Making it, but you’re breaking it (until it bends again)
Until we send again.
Go, barefoot in the snow
You’ve now stubbed your toe
And yet nobody, nobody knows you!
Well go, hand me off now (hand me off now)
Into the crowd, who’re screaming out loud. (screaming out loud)
Bend me until I break (until I break)
This was no mistake (was no mistake)
I’ll eat my own cake and I’ll make it, too…

Thoughts Like Ticking Time Bombs.

I am reminded every day, every good mood of some sort of depression. Like you, who meant so much to me and decided to exit my life stage right. Is it so hard to deal with me? If so, why can I not see how? What do I do to deserve this painful departure.

And so, I hold my head tight and let my thoughts disappear again. Nothing is worth willing unhappiness. I am strong enough to deal with this, and so are you. So is everyone, all the broken hearts and lonely minds. I know you can hold this world on your back, were you to try. Maybe this is bigger than the world, though. I couldn't fathom a problem you couldn't fix. I love you too much to let you hurt.

Sitting in a waiting room full of average people. It's so odd, to see these men and women and children just sitting and willing time to move faster. In a psychiatrist's office, you'd imagine crazy people. But no, I try to see past the exterior and imagine what mental restrictions they could possibly have inside. Imagination, I like that word. It's bigger than anything, and limitless.

And back to base one. I will not allow myself the release of unhappiness right now. I will not be weak, and because it is obvious to myself that I can deal with much more, I will smile. This is nothing compared to what hand I've been dealt before. I am superman. I can live. I can climb this mountain. This is my mantra, now and forever.

Arms to Cradle, Hands to Hold.

I am so jumpy it's insane. I want out. Bipolar, why are you so spontaneous?! And I wonder why I have insomnia, haha. I talk to all these people, all these unique, interesting people. And I see so much good, how is that so? Am I just one to peer innocently into someone's "soul" and tell them they have potential. That they can do great things. I wish someone would explain that to me, tell me I'm worth the space I take up.

I miss you, I really do. Something about you, your sarcasm and witty remarks. You say you've found a key, to one of many doors? I wonder what it could mean. Your vagueness drives me up the wall, but so be it. It amuses me as much as it infuriates me. I wonder, do you ever stop to think of me? Am I anything to you anymore?

Slow piano and dragging feet like zombies. Aren't we born dying? So let's make the most of it, until our flame crackles out. We are but fires, some destructive and dark. Some are warm and comforting. I'd like to think I am a firework, showing the lost candles how bright they can be. Like I said, life is short. Make it worth burning.

Cowardly Lions

I seem to be easily hurt, as if I'm covered in bruises, and the usual day to day activities and tasks pinch at those already sore spots. I'm constantly lonely. I'll entertain the thought of talking to you, then dismiss it. You really aren't close to me anymore. You're busy, I know. I do not blame. I just think.

My heart seems like it's thumping against my chest constantly. It's exploding every second. Deep breaths. Sad eyes. I wish you'd reconsider, rather than think of it black and white. God, we are different. It seems I'm meant to persistently yearn for what I cannot have.

I finished my short story, and I'm quite proud. It doesn't even matter if it is terrible, at least I finished it. I tried, and I got to my goal.

Now to do that with every other part of my life....

A Rusty Razor

A handful of general depression.
A smoke filled mouth.
A few sadistic thoughts.
and a smiling doll.

It all equals out to many thin lines of beautiful red blood.

Love and Other Lies.

Sore all over from bending over work. And crying like an idiot. I enjoy being able to let it all out sometimes, but it gets ridiculous. Do I have this much pain stored in me? That I hide from even myself? Very likely. I feel so lonely. Even those I love don't see how much it hurts sometimes. Even those I try to open up to. I guess I am doomed to be lonely forever.

I wanted to slice my wrists into ribbons today. To watch the streams of pretty, deep red blood drip down. Never too deep, although I want to hit a vein often. I don't really have the courage to do it. I think that defines me as an emo more than anything. Instead of cutting, however, I pierced myself again. So much cleaner and more fun. Scars are sweet to only me. I think of it as strength; see how much I can take. God, I've been bitter today.

I miss you, yes. I'm afraid my heart has shut down a bit, scared of being toyed with and broken again. I will try to open up, to make it trust again. But now I know how much I risk. And ignorance was bliss; I try to ignore the signs I'll be hurt. When it happens it doesn't hurt as bad though. I see it coming, really. I just consciously ignore. I wish I could help you open up, timid and scared like me. I really don't care what happens to my battered little heart. It's almost numb to pain with this much practice, so I can see how much harder it would be for you. You are new and fresh, and innocent.

I am savoring this headache and back ache. It's weird to describe. My masochistic moods, my martyrdom. I love it. And yet I am so self absorbed... I must work on that. It's so easy to go back into this, what I'm used to. Where I please everyone around me so they'll love me. All they love is my attention, MY love. And I know this. I am alright with it, because who could love me for me? Even I can't do that.

I hope when I see you I can smile again, be a little more selfish and a little less satanic. I want to make you smile. I want to know you... So please just trust me. Be young and stupid with me. Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

Shaking Shoes

Writing a lot of poetry recently. And debating. Invigorating, it is. I love viewing others' opinions and seeing what they see. Trying to show people my views. and more and more I change from it, in a better way. Have you ever tried to imagine how much you would mentally grow? Have you ever thought, I think I've reached the point where I just change slowly? That is ALWAYS a lie for me. I don't think anyone ever slows down unless they choose to remain ignorant. And for someone like me, thirsty for knowledge and wisdom, I will continue to grow until the day I die.

This... infatuation, for lack of a better word, is so filling. I'm not dependent, which is good, but I love talking to you. I'm always smiling with you in mind. And it all still feels like a dream<3 How can this have blossomed overnight? The past escapes my mind and feels like the speed of light, but the long road ahead stretches farther than I can see.

It's a bit trial and error, as you said. I know how much you mean to me, and it's a bit scary for someone to hold that over my head again. As always, I am afraid of being used. I know consciously you would never do that. And so I will ignore my phobias, and move on with you.

Your lips, your smile, your eyes and hair and hands. Warm arms and chest. All these pieces of you assemble to form a person. Your mind, more than anything, is the most beautiful thing. I want to know everything about you. I want to hear your past, and your fears. I want to talk with you for hours, maybe laying in the grass again, ignoring the occasional passerby. Maybe looking up at the starry sky, finding the big dipper again. I want to know you, more than anything. To be with you, even just sitting and watching you. I want to explore with you in tow. We can move this world, haha. Us.

With You In Mind.

That person whom you always seek to find. The one that drives you through the day. Could it be too soon to be so attached? I trust you enough to stop caring, and find myself with you in mind. Often I will catch myself drifting off, wondering. I hope you're smiling, happy during the day. I love your smile.

I was told today that I grow on people. It got me thinking, do I really? I have always been a bit likable, but I'd never though more of it. Well maybe I am just me. Who knows if I'm a rare breed, or even any good. It seems those who least deserve love get it. Maybe that is why? I don't know, but hopefully someday I can use this for more good<3

I have listened to a lot of new music recently, looking to find ones that fit my moods. In fact, I have been experiencing new moods every day. The medication and life changes have affected me so that every day is a new... flavor you could call it. Like tasting a new emotion every day, slightly changed. It's amazing and I wish I could share the experience. You really can find a bright side to everything, like a great feeling in a mental disorder.

These emotional flavors are so distinctly different, even in the slightest ways. Words do not do it justice. At the moment I am calm and content, amused. Curious and teasing, playful in a mellow way. Almost like a cat, haha. Anyways, the mood is very enjoyable. Like a favorite flavor of ice-cream, I'll have the taste on my mind for a while.

Je t'aime, but C'este la vie.

I wish I could just shut off emotions like you. The disappointment, for the second time, is crushing. So selfish, yes, to want to see you. At all costs, really. I miss you, and this weekend was supposed to be fantastic. A break from the monotony or our lives. Oh well, since there is nothing I can to do to change it, I must accept and stop dwelling. C'este la vie. Such is life.

"Gonna hold ya, gonna kiss you in my arms. Gonna take you, away from home." I have developed the great habit of optimism, and self improvement. I'll see my many flaws and work to improve. I'm proud of that, more than anything. And I have tried to stop giving advice and start taking it. I have been high and mighty for a while and never noticed. Like all other teens, I believe I am wiser than my age. And although I still hope it to be true, the odds are that this is my delusion.

I hope to stop hoping. I frequently get let down some way or another. I have learned to grow from every bad experience, so from this I will extract that disappointment is everywhere, and hope for the best, prepare for the worst. I talk about hope so much, I wonder why that is. It must be what keeps me going. From my past and current place in life, I should be unhappy. Fortunately I have medication to ease the pain, and idealism to help me hope. I would love to show people the bright side, make them see there's a lot more than just the let downs. Maybe someday they'll learn<3

Are you happy now?

"Could you look me in the eye? Would you look me in the eye? I've had all that I can take. And I'm not about to break, 'cause I'm happy now."

The more I put if off the harder it gets. Spoken like a true procrastinator. I want to just sleep this off, all the feeling. To ignore and deny it. But I have seen that this does more damage than good. I can imagine just glancing into my mirror, watching it crack slowly, then shatter. Like this whole house is being eaten away, burnt and eroded. The walls crumbling like mine. Both seem to be falling down, after so long. I had forgotten how I feel. It's frightening.

Putting all my eggs in one basket. My trust is my downfall, but I don't care anymore. Too late to let go.

Too late to let you go, no.
Breaking the mold, oh.
Forget the people.
Please be real.
Too soon for how to feel.
My fair prize. The right price.
Warmer nights feeling fine.
Answer why, do I sigh?
When I think of it, elaborate, my demise.

Sometimes things are off.
That touch is much too soft.
I want to show you what I am.
And I've become.
Would you regret the hopes I've strung?
For my demise.
Those sweet eyes.
Compromise.
In slight disguise.
I'll recognize
The anxious stirrings in my mind.

Run Dry.

I wish you'd just see me. I hint every minute. Every second, a change in attitude. A shift. I wish to GOD you'd notice. That I'm crying on the other side of this computer, like I've been bawling inside. Putting on a happy face, as always. Tell me it's okay. That you love me. Hold me. Please I'm begging you, save me from my facade.

I'm so scared of myself. The minute you tell me I'm not helping people, I feel no purpose. I want to cut again, or jump off my roof. I'm sorry. For not being strong enough or good enough. These tears roll off my cheeks. They're blinding.

When will I be able to tell you? When I can pull of the mask, show my weaknesses, and let the wall down?

It is time for change, in myself. This time I mean it. The image of my aunt, my role model, is ingrained in my head. She has arthritis in her legs, and still she got up every morning. Even when her knees locked up, she would go in to work and never complain. My grandmother is proud of her. I someday will be like that, strong and admirable. I have so many people pushing me forward and helping me along. I feel I don't deserve their care, but thank them graciously nonetheless. I will change and be the one who inspires people to do great things, to be a better person.

I am realizing there is more than just me. And someday maybe I can accept myself. Who knows? Maybe my dad will too eventually. The self loathing is drained. You drive me forward, and give me hope for a change.

"Another day and you've had your fill of sinking. All the life held in your hands are shaking cold. These hands are mine to hold, speak to me. When all you've got to keep is strong, move along, move along like I know you do. And even when your hope is gone, move along, move along just to make it through..."

A Different Kind of Pain.

"If it takes my whole damn life I'll make this up to you. Kind of like the waves. That roll their whole life towards somewhere. Crashing on the shore. It's blown in by the wind. That carries the clouds to hide. My wish on a fallen star."

I'm so full of life. An incomprehensible emotion. Some vault deep inside this lone soul finally broke. This explosion causes my heart to race, my mind to stretch and find new meaning. I want to share this, bottle this hope. That must be the word, hope. It's like light, like sun rays streaming through shutters. It mixes tiny motes of dust in the warm air. It makes all the troubles melt away like chocolate. I want to help you all, ha. With all my heart, so full and beating, I want to give it to you. To save you, and tell you you're loved. No matter what you've done or seen. Who you are, where. I am here, like a candle. Lit and waiting. Why is it so hard for me to give my all? Why is it wrong? I am but a stranger; someone you've never met. Why is it so difficult to trust, and accept a hand waiting, begging to help you up? I am dying to hand off this whole mind and heart of naive happiness.

The irony is ridiculous. Listening to a heartbreak song, my head pounding with a headache, with no sleep and an empty stomach. I should be upset, or at least uncomfortable. Instead, I want to be a martyr for anyone. I would love someone to hold on to. Not someone really, a certain someone. I crave a pair of arms and a soft chest. I wish to give my all, to do absolutely everything for someone. Even if it ended in chaos the last time, when I gave him my heart on a string and he stabbed it willingly. I'm not the type to be cautious or careful with myself. I could care less right now if anyone or everyone screwed me over. I remain naive as always. And I don't want to change.

Hope is like a softly played piano. Or a dirty child sprawled out on snowing street. It is so sad, so cruel. But nothing could be so good either. Because without it, where would we be?

Blank Page.

My thoughts are a bit blurred; a frenzied night of music, drinks, smoke and smiling. I'm sore as a sailor, and alone a little. Wish you'd see me, Strange Place. I've developed an attraction, more of a infatuation. Or infection.
I desire deep pain. Listening to sad songs and hoping I could shed a few tears. Not for any valid reason. I just miss depression so much. This numbness consumes my thoughts and ensnares my feelings. I would rather feel pain than nothing at all.
Wish granted now. I'm pitifully envious. I hate everything about me, every single aspect. My selfishness, my sadness, my idiocy. My fat, my cheeks, my nose, lips, eyes, EVERYTHING. And I hate myself for hating myself. I'm just chasing my tail here, no point in it. But when these beautiful girls flaunt their looks, their talents, I feel useless.What's the point if I can never be that good? Why even try?

The point. The point is to be better, no matter what. Always improving, even if it kills me. I know I'll never meet my own standards, set up by my father. If only. I will become a blank page, absorbing the color and light around me.