They say that I’m more positive now,
that’s what the world wants to see.
But the truth is that I’m still broken,
but no one likes that version of me.
They Said
Open up
they said.
Be more vulnerable
they said.
Don’t keep it all bottled in
they said.
Tell them what’s bothering you
they said.
Confide when you’re ready
they said.
You’ll feel better
they said.
That’s fucking bullshit
I said.
Who am I to Believe?
Who am I to believe
that I can help others
find their place in the world
when I can’t even
find one of my own?
Who am I to believe
that everyone should dream
and pursue those dreams
when I can’t even
find one of my own?
Who am I to believe
that there is good in the world
and it is a joy to be here
when I can’t even
want to stick around?
Torturing Myself
If the main goal of living
is to follow your dreams,
then why am I still here?
My dreams will never come true
and hanging around is really
only torturing myself by thinking
about the what-ifs when
there was never even a what.
Bottom of the Rainbow
They say at the bottom of the rainbow
there is a pot of gold
but I am at the bottom
and I promise you there is no gold here.
Just disappointment and broken dreams
which you can find anywhere really.
So why unstick yourself from the pillows
you’ve been crying into for three hours?
Save yourself from searching
for the happiness you hope is out there
at the bottom of some rainbow for you
because there is not.
It’s just much the same
so just protect yourself
from getting your hopes up.
There’s nothing out there
worth living for.
Dangerous to Dream
It is dangerous to dream
bigger than the moment
you are already living.
It may be easy to dream
of long white curtains
billowing in a warm breeze
or a four-poster bed with
soft pink petals scattered
across bright, white sheets
that are as fresh and as pure as you;
maybe later you’ll be tangled in them
as you watch the sunset
over the ocean out your window
with the love of your life
shortly after you dedicated
your lives to be spent with each other.
Seems simple enough of a dream,
But that can be ripped from you
long before you ever get close
to touching that dream.
So dream simply of small things
like your first margarita
because the odds of someone
shoving that down your throat
against your will
is a lot less likely than other things…
take it from me.
Fairytales
I wish that fairytales were real
because that would mean that
dreams really do come true
just because you will them too
and patiently wait for them to happen
and everyone gets a happy ending,
even me.
But that’s just not the case.
Love is a sham
and the more you believe in it,
the more you’ll get hurt.
then again, if you don’t believe in love,
the world reveals it’s cold self,
and it’s miserable living there,
but so is living in a constant state
where you believe that any day now
you’re fairytale will come true
and your prince will finally love you.
Go ahead and pick you poison:
reality or an apple.
No Strangers Here
It’s one of the longest nights of the year
and my soul aches from the pressure it brings.
As the darkness surrounds me,
I open my eyes and see much the same.
I lay in the small, worn bed of my childhood
as the silent tears glide down my face,
softly landing and expanding the never-ceasing puddles.
The tears are no strangers here.
My well-trained pillows are familiar with
muffling the screams and questions
that come straight from my damaged heart:
Why am I not good enough?
Why don’t I deserve love?
No one will ever love a damaged soul like mine.
My soul aches with the weight of carrying questions
that can never be asked or answered.
They are a burden I’m left to ponder
while staring at my ceiling,
trying to make out the faint details in the plaster
as I’ve done so many times before.
I’ve been here before.
I know I’ll be here again.
There’s no way to fix me
and even if there was,
it’s been made clear many times
that no one in my life will ever try.
I’m not worth it.
No one will wastes an “I love you”
on a girl destined to die.
Do Not Fall in Love
Do not fall in love.
It’ll only break your heart.
I know it broke mine.
This House is Just Like Me
The house I grew up
is slowly falling apart
just like me.
It’s used and broken.
No one will ever want it
just like me.
It’s an unattractive eyesore
to everyone sharing this town
just like me.
and it’s filled to the brim
with things it’s trying to hold in,
just like me.
No one comes to visit
and honestly, why would they?
This house is just like me.
Baffy Basics 