It doesn’t take long
The length of a comment or a post
And my persuasive powers have taken hold
“You’re worthless,” says the mind
“What could you have to say?
Who would want to listen?”
No storm is longer winded
Nor so laden with potential truths
When I am honest, I am angry
I am resentful and despairing
And how can I not hate myself
How could others fail to see
When all I loathe in others’ eyes
Is so plainly in me.

A Reason

I gave my word and it meant nothing;
All my worth reduced to this:
Every step I never took,
Every automatic miss,
Every time I said “I’ll be there”
And could never give a reason
For why I never was —
As if excuses conquer treason
And pretty lies don’t make me worse;
But if I could just say something,
Believe the problem’s more than just me,
At least then I’d have a reason why it hurts.

Read the Label

“Not for human consumption,”
I read the small print to myself.
If one’s got anything but foolish gumption
I suppose it should be left upon the shelf.

But people offer pennies
The poor, misguided lot
They’ll even beg me pretty please —
For the label reads, “My Thoughts.”


I had no reason I could give you
For why I wait upon this shelf
But I think the reason it comes down to
Is that I hate myself

I’ve had years to listen
To the opinions of those dear
And what I’ve learned is mine don’t matter
And that mistakes are things to fear

Now they try to stoke my confidence
But I just don’t believe
I am everything they’ve hated
And nothing that they need

For Fear of Being Alone

I know the reasons why;
I know the fear that drives me.
If you leave, then I will cry
But if you stay, then it will blind me

I know the reasons why;
I know the weakness that’s inside me.
I’ve learned well to be shy
But to be seen is so enticing

I know the reasons why;
I know the sorrow that defines me.
I couldn’t tell you why I cry
But I know it’s why I change myself so desperately.


I can’t breathe sometimes…
And sometimes I think there’s something really wrong with me;
But then I realize, I’m an idiot, and that it wouldn’t matter anyway.

I’m suffocating in these times:
Where we bicker, because, why wouldn’t we?
We only ever speak when we’ve nothing to say.

I’m sick of living out these lies,
Where the punchline of our every joke is that we’re angry,
And threats and fears are always termed as play.

I can’t even breathe sometimes…
But then, nobody ever seems to see,
So I guess that this is something that will simply go away.