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?

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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.

 

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.