They never had a chance to be

I’ve been; I regret it all honestly

Why, why, why me, why, why, why

I used to not want to have been

Could have been better; greater

It doesn’t stop this thistle of pain

Thistle, this will never end, Reverend

Thistle, this will never end, Reverend

Thistle, this will never end, Reverend

Though this pain hurts my skin

Doesn’t mean I want to not be

I don’t want to not be, I still wanna be

Me, me, me, whim me, me, me

I still wanna be, I still wanna-

Existence is pain; I’ll still be, maybe…

I smoke now to fog the visions of you. I see the way you looked at me, Even though you’re no longer here.

I close my eyes and hear your voice, Still hearing the way you breathe. They say I should try to drown it out, But the mirror doesn’t show me anymore.

As days pass and months turn to years, I yearn for someone like you. You were the warm darkness On cold mornings, Now I sleep in, Hoping to forget you.

I never want to forget you. I do all kinds of things to remember; Your looks, your smell, your voice, your taste, your touch.

I had every intention of forever, But I guess I forgot that feeling now.

Beep Boop Your voicemail has been deleted, hang up the line or press 1 to make a new voice message…

It’s daft of you To think I would Cry if you died.

Today, if I lost My lover now, I certainly have cried.

I’m crying again, I try not to scream your name now.

I cried, I’m crying, I still cry For me, myself, and, I wish this hadn’t been.

I may look imperfect, But the way you look at me Shows me how imperfect you are.

I scar my body, With imperfections because I’m not perfect; You scar your mind, With how perfect you think you are.

I hurt myself, Because of how other people hurt me; You hurt people, So you don’t have to hurt yourself.

I may not be like you, But we came from the same coin, With different views.

You are not like me, Yes, we did come from the same coin, Maybe you were just lucky Penny, And I was just dimed to fail?…

Digging down, digging down, Digging far and wide, The road is yet unpaved, So let’s go make it right.

Digging down, digging down, Digging into the earth, The days, they feel so short, So let’s show our worth.

Digging down, digging down, The dirt is dirty every time, But we will stay clean, And keep our heads held high.

Digging down, digging down, Digging through the dirt, This song’s about digging, So let’s us sing it again.

I saw the TV glow too. I didn’t have anyone to watch it with.

Maybe about five or six years ago, I watched it. It was sinking me, it’s still sinking me.

My skin feels off, the whole world feels off. Everybody’s on my nerves- -they’d say; “what happened to you?” and “why are you like this?”

I’ve tried to unplug the TV, but it burns me when I change the channel or when I try to pull the plug.

It was my favorite show- -it still is. But now I ask;

was it my favorite show because it was the only option… or …was it because it felt better than the other option?

“Everyone’s hates you, I should too I’m also hated as well, why are we like this? We shouldn’t be allowed to live It wasn’t that bad, not to them. Others thought it was so bad, enough, that we deserve it to

“Is it worse to kill a living person or to keep a suicidal person alive?” It used to be us three, now two…

Still after my whole life feeling sick, nothing really helped; just distracted or replaced with another thing”

Hey stop writing horrid stuff; I’m here, and he is too!

Give me that notebook and let me throw it into a fire!

No~ I like writing bad endings.

Because you hope your ending will be good if you know all the bad endings?

How poetic of you poetist… maybe you should write in my notebook?

Ya you should write a good story to!

“Three friends sit in a hot summer room, They have 4 popsicle, who to get the last? Then another shows up, their squad is complete They all eat their popsicle’s happily, the end!”

Hey am I late, room for one more?

Yes!

Ya.

I thought you weren’t coming?

Plans change… you got another popsicle-

Here.

I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference. __

Soon enough the path others named ‘right’ disappeared, and all that’s right has gone. The sun turned darker, and a new moon came to light.

Afterwards the trail began going deeper into the unknown, and what I didn’t know had become me.

I have felt it now, the dysphoria, I didn’t feel real; but I felt unbearably real.

I am not driving anymore. Now I’m in my own head; it feels like someone else is controlling me.

I wasn’t confined to him anymore; he always kept me inside,

Yelling at me whenever I came to him; he’d say, damn it, you’re always getting in the way,

There were others like me, with an ‘owner’ too; we planned to run, run as far as possible,

Maybe even see each other one day, in a new city; in a new house,

Repainted anew or the centerpiece of an art gallery or broken and rebuilt stronger

That’s my story, and yes we are all here now to meet up finally and safe together.

I was 14 My dad was cheating My mother was just a girl The day felt different Two of my aunts ||: fathers side :|| Came to my home, yelled at me Came to my room, then assaulted me; left with my father When two of my cousins heard Went to pick me and my mother up Their house was my house for a week Then back at my place, replaced the locks The key they’d given me still fit the lock, but the house no longer felt like home