As my pen drifts across the page,
I hear someone ask me “how?”
Well, i don’t really know.
I’ve spent years of watching others asking myself the same thing.
I try and try to make it as perfect as the image i hope it would be.
I try and try to work at my skill to be confident in my ability.
I try and try to fix it to make it something its not.
But then i think to my self,
Is this really my passion?
Is this what I’ve been working towards?
But then i hear that again
How do I look at my work.
I look at the page at what i created, something original something new,
Then i it all comes to me that’s all i wanted to do.
Lately I’ve been in a desperate need of escape.
An escape to a different place from all these nerves and all this unnecessary stress.
Books have filled that desperate need.
They have transported me to a different place and time, universe, everything.
A bad day turns to a day travelling in London in the 1900s with some awesome magicians,
Or screaming lyrics at a concert with secret werewolves.
It’s nice and comforting to know that a small helpful thing,
Such as a good book, is always available whenever
It can help greatly, even if just for a little while.
In my Head
“It’s all in your head”
Well that’s the problem, isn’t it.
You tell me its in my head but you don’t know,
How I have constantly thought of killing.
Thought of how if I could be altered, my life would be totally different.
That I thought life wasn’t worth living anymore on top of a bridge. And that I would have gone through with it if it weren’t for a passing lady.
Telling her I was trying to look at the tracks.
Do you know, that when I look at the fading scars I can’t help but feel, they would be prettier red instead of white.
How I thought skinny tasted better than being full. That I cannot wear something because it looks better on the model.
And yet, it’s all ONLY in MY head.
I get it, it’s my problem not yours.
Yet my head seems to listen to me more than you.
Waiting for love is hopeless. Why does love not come to us?
Are we not worthy enough for the feeling or the person to make their way to us?
Do we not prove everyday how deserving of it we are? do we wait for nothing?
Is anyone coming to save us? are we destined to be alone or is someone out there?
Why do we make our way in life for love? why is it not sitting on our bedside table?
In our living room or at our schools or work spaces?
Why do we have to look for it? are we unworthy?
I wish I was myself
I wish I had style and I had a nice smile
I wish I was sociable and maybe a bit noticeable
I wish I was smart instead of just having a heart
I wish I was likeable by everyone I meet and that they would think I was sweet
But most importantly I wish I was myself and not herself.
I wish I was myself.
What can i say to make you stay,
It must’ve been my fault you went away.
I hold no anger in my heart.
I miss you but your not here and nothing i say can make you appear.
This is your way of righting your wrongs .
I understand , but i just want my dad
Numbers don’t process, meaningless equations are plenty
I can’t focus on my homework, it makes no sense to me.
I can’t comprehend the overwhelming nature of my learning environment,
When all it does is tear me down.
Study guides are useless, I just can’t keep up.
How is it so easy for my friends, yet no matter
How hard, I try to study, I try so hard,
But I barely scrape by.
Pretty sounds and neat lines,
Will never live up to your calculating minds.
The minds they expect and want,
The minds in which your future will depend on.
A Basic Life
My life is basic
There’s nothing different about it
There’s nothing to complain about
But it’s not what I want
I want to leave here
And meet different people
Live in different places
Not tied down with shackles
Tied to the normal life that everyone craves
Feeling like the hugs and kisses might strangle you
And the fake compliments and conversations will drive you mad
The comfort and safety of knowing you have a home
Will always be nice
But the thrill of living day to day is what I want
Not a basic life
3am pizzas cut into squares
Falling asleep watching snooker
You said you saw angels and aliens and ghosts
And I believed you
You said Mam was stupid
You said you’d die without me
You said you’d quit Marlboros on Monday
And i believed you
Beeping machines and smelly wards
Awful coffee and salty tears
When they said you wouldn’t last the night
I didn’t believe them
If I told you there are nights i forget your face
Or the sound of your laugh in the summer sun
And all I can remember are the pizzas and the tears
Would you believe me?
If You Saw Me
If you saw me now what would you say
How my hair looks different but my face is the same
Would you comment on my body or the clothes i wear
Or would you act as if you do not care.
When i wanted you to see me you would not look,
So i decided to take a leaf out of your book.
The changes i made would be considered theft
Until there was none of me left.
Why does it always happen to me,
It never happens to anyone else
Constant dizziness or back pain the list goes bloody on and on
No one else i know has this many medical issues
So i ask, why me.
I’m a good student i always try to help at home i try to be kind always
But yet here i am in constant pain and sickness
It just doesn’t make sense why not anyone else and why specifically me
I actively try to eat well and i exercise i drink water
I TAKE CARE IF MY BODY, yet here i am in constant pain.
I’m missing school missing events my friends think i am lying or just being dramatic when i say i am in pain but the pain just never ends and it hurts me to hear they don’t believe me.
I wish this didn’t happen to me, cause maybe then u would be able to enjoy life
to not be constantly stuck in a doctors office having tests after tests i would be able to enjoy my school years Without being in pain almost 24/7 i would be able to go out
Do things that other people my age do without having to worry about
I don’t know if i’ll be in too much pain to go that day.
I wish i wish i wish i wish, no matter how much i try i know wishing won’t work
But i can’t give up hope, i hope one day they find out what’s wrong and
They can finally fix me, i hope they can figure it all out so i can finally get the answer to
The person I was to be has always not been me. The covers and vails have revealed themselves. I am me I am great. From the depression of childhood. The trauma of splitting impales like a dagger to the heart. I am me, it takes years to understand what I’m made of. but I am me. From to the trauma of depression and society’s pressure to be “normal” to be “equal” its stupid. I am me.
I am not the person I pretend to be,
I dress and act how society tells me,
We are in prisoned by the stereo types we have created
We are chained by our fear of being individual
But why can’t we break away from this?
Why is it so scary?
We need to change,
We need to be ourselves
Christmas is full of bright lights and stars,
Every car park full of cars.
Kids playing in the snow,
Never wanting it to go,
Santa flying around the town,
Going down the chimney further down and down.
Christmas trees bringing joy,
Underneath is full of toys,
Michael Buble and Mariah Carey making everyone very merry
Perfection is the worst,
Not a blessing but a curse,
It floods friendships, school and home,
An empire of uncertainty bigger than Rome.
Its the doubting disease,
That persists with no ease,
It tells you to do it until it feels just right,
The internal debating is a constant fight.
You soon realize just right will never be enough,
Its better to stop sooner than later before it gets too tough.
I sit in the classroom, invisible but I don’t mind.
I feel like people think I am uninterested in them but in fact I care so much about everyone.
I try to make the people I write in my notebooks as human as possible.
Because what I love about people is that they’re so very human.
When people have favourite films, and food and people.
And I hate when people dislike themselves because they can’t see their face when they smile truly.
They can’t see how beautiful they are because they just judge it by a reflection
I want to do the people in the world justice by writing.
And hopefully someone will see themselves in the people I write.
CHRISTMAS PARTY THING
It’s Christmas day
I’m going to eat food
Jingle bells jingles bells
Jingle all the way
Tinsel you are so good
To light my fire i need wood
A friend is someone you can trust
Someone who will listen without judgment
A friend is with you in whatever you do
Someone who knows all your faults and still loves you
Pat The Rat
There was a rat
Who had a hat
He was scared of cats
As they spat
On his mat
And they didn’t chat