I’ve always been fascinated by monarchs, How the seem to glide effortlessly in the wind, How the lines on their wings is like paint on a canvas, Sometimes I wish I was a butterfly, I could soar instead of fall, I could be admired instead of tired, But I’m not a butterfly, I’m me, And the lines on my thighs aren’t like paint on a canvas, Their like crinkles on a paper, No one wants to write on a crinkled paper, So they trash it, Each comment and word is engraved in my heart, But the papers already crinkled, There’s no straightening it so might aswell help it crumble, Each tear stains my cheek like a line on a butterfly’s wing, When I think about I’m more like a butterfly than I think, Or maybe a butterfly is more human than me

People say they cut themself a to cope with what’s beneath the surface, But what about cutting to find comfort under the surface , When your thoughts are blurred and foggy, When your body’s on hyperactive, And you cut, You slash and scrape but not becuase you your coping with the pain, Becuase you can’t recognize your own pain, It’s as if your heart is shouting to you but it’s a million miles away, So you cut, Maybe if you dig deeper the thoughts will come out, Your heart will be closer, Your mind will be clearer, So you cut until there’s blood on your hands, But instead of your thoughts being louder they’re gone, All that’s left is emptiness, And blood

I guess I was always a bit out of the ordinary. I’ve always gone that extra mile when people tell me no. Today I read a story about the grim reeper. He seems a lot like me. Misunderstood and working for things that aren’t easy. I did a bit of research and the only thing I found was a 12 year old girl. It said she killed herself as a sacrifice to him. What was intriguing to me was that when they went back for the body it was gone. He must have found her. These days I’m so desperate for a friend that doesn’t seem out of the options. But how would I befriend him if I’m dead. However the article didn’t say it had to be the person themselves that was sacrificed. My moms been getting on my nerves lately. Always telling me what to do and not giving me freedom. The grim reaper would give me freedom. That night I sit on my bed staring at the knife. She’s gonna die at some point. For all I care she’s just a background character in my life. Normally invaluable but now, I have a use. I gently pick up the knife and run it across my arm. As the blood trickles down I smile a bit. It’s sharpened. In that moment my mom yells from the other room. “Get off your ass and do chores!” She says. Now I’m fed up. I stand up with the knife behind my back and walk over to her. “What are you doing?” She yells. In that moment the anger comes out. I quickly extend my arm and plunge the knife in her stomach and twist. Not long after she stops breathing. That night I saw the grim reaper. He found me. He took me to the woods and showed me the most wonderful things. It’s as if we’re invisible but not in the way I normally am. Like we’re only there in spirit. I see goosebumps on arms as we walk by but they don’t seem to actually see us. Eventually he silently leads me to a door. “Door of death” it reads. It seems comforting in some since. I follow him in and am met with a gloomy place. Dark, eerie streets filled with people. Only these people aren’t “people”. They have all types of injuries. Axes in their heads, guts ripped out, but some just look pale. I’m met with my mothers horrified face at the end of the street. All of a sudden the grim reapers gone. I look forward to be met with everyone charging mr with knives. Then, darkness.

A woman's spirit, a boundless power, A force so strong, it cannot cower, Breaking shackles, breaking chains, A rebel's heart, unashamed A mothers nurture, A small girls scream, Tearing through the walls like a beam, A women’s walls around her heart, They put them there to shwart the the pain, To stop despair, Only stopping to breath air, She stands tall, a warrior's stance, Fighting for the battles in her lands, Her voice a roar, her heart ablaze, No force can tame her, no force can haze, The power of a million women, Put there from the resistance of men, From the fear of being hit, Of being hurt until their sick, From the torture they endure, From the battles they suffer, Only hoping for the day, That men will bow and pray, For they’ll see women’s power, And society embrace all their flaws and their strengths, The wooden shackles unrestrained, From the shadows of oppression, The women emerge, unconfined, The voices that once were silenced, Now rise, their strength defined, No longer bound by chains of old, They take their stand, they take control, The wooden spoons and pots in the ashes of the old, All the times they were silenced only to stop the abstinence of staying quiet, They will stay above it all, Each laugh and fall only adding to the power that women now acquire, No longer victims of circumstance, They're masters of their own stance, The old ways crumbling in their wake, As women claim their rightful place, No more silence, no more shame, They rise, unbound, untamed, And still are humble and profound, Giving men a chance to ground themself and see the potential, See the successful spirit of all their wives and kids, all the waiters, and the lids on the floor from the jars that once contained , all these powers and brains, All the things that men lack, Women carry on behalf of the world, Of the life, Of the sun that shines so bright, Only now will they see that we’re not they’re slaves for pleasury, We have a mind we have a brain and a heart that beats the anthem, Of our screams of our tears that we have come to overlook, To see the end, To see the finish, To see that we are a prolific force, One of comfort aswell as potency, We are now a great prophecy, Hear us scream and shout no more tape to shut our mouth, And as they rise, they don't forget, That empathy and strength are links in life's net, They reach out a hand to lift those low, For they know the power of unity and flow, So now unite, all women and men, In a dance of equality, where progress begins, For when we stand together, hand in hand, We'll create a world that truly understands.

If you destruct a destructer are you really in the wrong, If a man was to rape you and tell you you aren’t strong, Destruct you from the inside out, Then leave and walk away, Is it wrong to go and find that man then torture him the same, Is it wrong to scream and yell at him until his eardrums bust, Or grip and scratch at him till he’s nothing but dust, It it wrong to skin him up and hang him on display, For he did to me the same, In all means I don’t really give a shit if it’s right or wrong, All that really matters is what’s done is done, At least I’m still standing while he’s scattered in my lawn.

Some things seem so beautiful, They’re worshiped and praised, But then they get old, See there final days, And less people care, More forget, They’re beauty in the start of life’s net, They see a new blossom and it’s out with the old, Nobody wants a dying rose

There’s screaming and yelling, Thoughts rushing my mind, I can’t seem to think straight, Can’t stop to ask why, Why me, Why this, All I want is bliss, Instead I’m stuck in this dark abyss, My heart is pounding like a awakened flame, I hear the thudding in my brain, All of a sudden my breathing is quick, I’m choking on air, I’m gonna be sick, This is it, The end, I’m through, I’ll die before I knew what to do, He doesn’t help me, Just walks away, Leaving me praying I’ll see the next day, They say this is normal but I don’t see how, The only thing I see is spots now, I need to breath, I’m drowning in fresh air, My thoughts the only thing keeping me there, I feel a hand on my wrist, I flinch and cry, They soothe me quick, They’re here to help, That’s a new word, Help is something odd and peculiar, Yet they sit me down and hold my hands, They soothe my heart and shaking hands, I go to thank them but they say no need, They say it’s human decency, I guess no one’s ever been decent to me

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fly. To have the air consume you all thoughts taken by the wind. When I was little I was told it was a silly thing. However everything is theoretically impossible until it’s done. A simple solution may be planes but I’ve never been a simple girl. I see life as a game and if you play your bound to lose. Everyone dies in the end. Might aswell prove the impossible first. I now sit on the edge of the cliff. I can see everything. The city lights that cause pollution. The planes that leave gas to contaminate the air. They say life’s beautiful yet don’t seem to care. I can no longer bring myself to live, for life will always win the game unless you beat it to it. So now I’ll find my freedom and fly far away. Far away from all the mistakes I’ve made.

Instead of solidifying us they’re tearing us apart. They’ve been depriving us of an opinion from the start. They take our life’s, hope, and spirit, making laws to incapacitate us of living.not only are we robots, we’re slaves of work. We are now demonstrating to the future generation that your only meant to be hurt.

Someone’s there, In the dark, Waiting for me, Pawning for me, I feel them all around me, Their breath on my neck, The hair on my arms stand up, I turn to see the stranger watching me but no one’s there, People I tell laugh at my despair, I can practically hear their breathing in my sleep, Their footsteps behind me, An invisible man always there, Mocking me, Taunting me, His voice in the air, Always one step ahead, And I can’t seem to shake this feeling of fear, Of being killed before I can make out a figure, Even a shadow, Something there to prove I’m not crazy, I’m not joking when I say that he’s there, I feel him now, All I do is wait, And pray, Hopefully one day he will kill me, Pray it’s fast, For only then will people believe me, I do have fear, I can’t help it, after all I breath air, I’m not invincible I’m scared, For I know he’s there