Reading with Rex – Poem


The cold winter air hits my skin

Though I’ve been outside for so long

That I barely can even feel it anymore.

The shadow of the statue above me

Is shading the book in my lap.


Despite the fact that the lights are

Blinding me each and every time I look up.

I’m content as I lean against the cold material,

I don’t even know what he’s made of.


All I know is that my voice is echoing

In the empty night,

The only one to hear me is Rex,

The statue who listens to me read.


I’m not sure why I feel content,

Maybe it’s the air that I can’t even feel.

Perhaps even the book in my lap

Or my voice as I am overly aware of it.


It’s not my bed that I feel most at home

Not even that house I barely know

But moments like these,

When Rex is the only one to hear

My thoughts, it’s almost as though he is my family.


Despite the fact that you can walk passed the colorful wall,

Through the alleyway between the buildings,

And directly in front to the building that I call my room.

It is not my home, despite everything.

Instead it is a spot underneath the statue,

Being protected by his strength

And invisible to all those who do not listen to his roar.


Under the Willow Tree – POEM


We trekked towards the habitual spot

Became united under the Willow Tree

The alluring forestry cloaking us

Giving no glimpse to our antics


As seasons passed and the tree succumbed to the climates

Trifling and rejoicing in the leaves below

The scent would fill us

Reminiscing on the fun times we had

Conscious of the impeding phase


Till the sunshine fled

We jumped and clowned to our hearts content


I traveled lonesome

Awaiting his appearance

Could not fathom how he could be departed

And I let out a bellow

Exposing my sorrowing heart

As I grieved for him to reappear

Paranoia. – POEM.


Is there somebody listening?

Have you seen the rustle of the trees?

I think somebody may be there

I know that people want to know

I know that people want to listen

I think I just saw somebody

Lurking in the woods

I know that I just saw a shadow

I don’t think my eyes are deceiving me

You’re telling me this is simply


But I know what I saw

My eyes weren’t deceiving me

I think I heard my name in that conversation over there

This can’t be paranoia

My eyes can not be lying to me

Why does nobody believe me?

Are they in on it too?

There’s something in those trees over there

I don’t think we’re safe anymore

I think something serious is happening

I think somebody wants to harm me


Don’t tell me this paranoia

This can not be paranoia

There is no way this is paranoia

My eyes are not lying to me

I can see it over there

Right there

Right now

Can’t you?

Why can’t you see it?

I know it’s there?

This isn’t paranoia

I’m not crazy

Don’t tell me I am

Why can no one else see the truth?

How can my eyes not be trustworthy?

Maybe they need to leave my body

I can’t have something I don’t trust

Maybe I can claw them out

Who cares if I can’t see?

Maybe that’s for the best

I won’t be able to see what is in the woods

And I don’t think that’s bad

Since nobody else can see.

Their Best Friend – POEM

WARNING: If you are struggling in any way with suicide, suicidal thoughts, or self- harm then please click out of this. This will be triggering and emotional for some people and if you’re not in the place where you can deal with those things then please click out of this poem.




If you are at the point where you are seriously thinking about it, or even if it has even been a thought that has crossed your mind, please consider calling the number above. It is open 24/7 and they will talk to you about what you’re feeling and talk you out of it. I urge you to call the phone number.



It’s those words

Those words you never thought you would hear

You might not have even known what it was

When you first heard them

I know I didn’t


You think the first time will be the only time

When they are crying their eyes out

And they look at you and admit something that scares even themselves


You think you’re strong enough to help them

Maybe you even are

You take away their best friend


You’re naive to think that it will be enough

You think they wont find another best friend

You’re naive enough until you notice they are hiding their wrists

That they wince when you grab their arm in a certain way


You begin noticing the growing amounts of rubber bands branding their wrists

They are cool enough to be tricked into thinking that they are just an accessory

But I’ve come to notice them from across the room

And every time, I notice the same things


The wince

The nervousness

The depression

The secrets

The lies that are growing every single time you’ve talked to them


The second person comes to you and you want to help

You always want to help

That will never change

But your idea of helping begins to change


You make them show their wrists to you every single day

You’ll find an abandoned corridor at some point in the day

They’ll show you their wrists and all you will see are the scars

The scars that tell you everything that has happened to them


You don’t think to realize they are cutting somewhere else

Somewhere less noticeable

Somewhere that isn’t touched as often

Whether it’s their thighs or stomach


The third person comes and you’ve seen enough loss to last you a lifetime

You wonder if actually going to somebody will make a difference

You wonder if it would be a good idea

Then you notice blood leaking from under their bracelets

And you freak out, you hyperventilate

You end up in the school bathroom for hours on end


A teacher comes to find you at some point

Reprimands you for skipping

Even though they see the tears running down your face

And you find your opening

You’re staring at this teacher

You’re aware that you’re about to lose your friend

But you think that it has to be better than the loss forever


They survive

The survivor in your story of growing lists of people who have passed away

You lose them but that doesn’t surprise you

At least you get to see them alive

You seem them happy with other people

That’s all that really matters at this point


Then you get those words again

Those words of admittance

You’ve been ignoring the signs

The bracelets

You think they have to be decoration


You wonder if they are just flocking to you at this point

You wonder what it’s like

There has to be a reason why everyone is doing this

Why everyone you come to care about ends up saying those words


You make your own best friend

Nothing special

You hope nobody notices

And you’ve experienced enough to know what to avoid.

You make the first cut

The stinging is all you can think about

You wonder how they could ever do such a thing


You leave it alone

Clean up

Stop the bleeding

Then you leave your best friend in a hidden spot

You don’t think you’ll ever do it again


Until you find yourself craving that stinging pain

The realization of what you’re wanting to do

It’s terrifying because you know the harms

There is no believing that the blood dripping from your wrists is healthy.



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The Book That Tells You Who I Was and Who I Am

Broken Smile

Dear Boy Who Passed Away…

Blue Telephone Boxes


I am somebody who fears of the day that I have to use

The blue telephone boxes that line my campus

Ensuring my safety as I slow down within feet of it

Wondering if this is the moment that I will have to use it.


The blue telephone boxes that are there to keep you safe

But are also the reminder of every bad thing that could happen.

Before they were stories, told to you as a little kid to make sure you behaved.

Now we have bright blue telephone boxes to remind us of everything


Now that we are older, we are becoming the focus of the stories.

The blue telephone boxes that line the campus I walk down every day is my reminder

Of the bad things that could happen if I stayed out too late

Or if I made the wrong move during a conversation that I have


When you are talking to a stranger and you quickly take note of the closest one

So that you can calculate whether you can survive and make it to the blue telephone box.

I am someone who is constantly on guard, taking in the nearest blue telephone boxes

I am someone who worries of becoming a little girl’s worst nightmare


Because the blue telephone boxes that ensure my safety

Are also the scariest reminders of reality that I have ever come to face.


I’m the Hero of This Game (Warning: Mild Language)


You’re waiting for him to fuck up

So you can swoop me up

And save me from the man that you clearly so despise

You’re waiting to be my knight in shining armor

After your so called villain chews me up and spits me out.

Like you’ve never hurt me

Like you so wish he will.

You think his fuck up

Will be our make up


You claim that I’m your princess

Like we’re in some Mario game

And I’m Princess Peach

That needs a little bit of saving.


And you’ll be there to stomp on whatever monster threatens me.

You’re waiting for him to fuck up

So that our make up will commense

To prove to me that all your fuck ups

Have and will be erased

Yet as he holds me dear

And your name vibrates on my phone

I must admit that I wondered if we were really done

You claim I’m your princess

and that he’s the villain keeping us away

But what if the roles are reversed

And you’re my villain who chewed me up and spit me out?

And he was my knight in shining armor who protected me.

You’re waiting for him to fuck up

Like you’ll think a make up will commense

You’ll swoop me up and save me from my far away castle

And protect me from my fears

And my tears will be no more

But I don’t need you to swoop me up

And a make up wont commense

I’m stronger than that

and if he fucks up

Then at least you’ve taught me how not to make up

Because a fuck up is a fuck up

And a fuck up should not be a make up and

I’m not a princess

Who needs any saving

I’m the hero of this game

And you’re just a monster following me.


Because I Loved You


It is because I loved you

That I ignored that look in your eye

That look as I took a bite of my food

I ignored your judging eyes

Because I loved you.

And I thought that was what love was

I ignored the pleading voices running through my mind

Because I loved you.

I ignored my friends as they told me you were no good

And I fought with my parents when they forbade me from you

Because I loved you

And I couldn’t bear being separated from you.

I saw those looks you gave me

As I took off in a run

Or even sat down

Because I loved you

And I thought you were just keeping an eye on me.

I ignored the way you cringed when you hugged me tightly

Or how you whispered,

“Should you really be eating that?”

Because I loved you

I thought you loved me too.

You told me these things and I thought you cared about me

But because I loved you

I thought

You would never hurt me

Nor would you ever torment me.

Yet as I began shedding

Your comments and looks disappeared

And love was found in your eyes

A look that I thrived for

As my parents became worried

And my friends tried to force me to eat

I longed for that look

Because I loved you

And I wanted you to love me.

But why couldn’t you love me for me?

Because you didn’t

You loved me for the way I bowed down to you

The way I submitted

As though you were a God

My God.

You allowed me to shed

Because you loved the way it made you feel.

And because I loved you

I let you feel that way

As I ignored my health

And became your puppet.

And it is because I loved you

That I write this now

Because that was not love

That was a weak boy tormenting a girl

All because she loved him.

And because you’re not my God.