Distance

It's measured differently everywhere you go. Miles, kilometers, feet, inches the list goes on. It can be measured however you'd like really. Unlike what many people think distance Doesn’t change anything or the strength of something. If two people are 75 miles away they still bleed the same. They still feel the same things. They can still love each other. Those meaningless 75 miles do nothing at all. It can't stop the multitude of sweet paragraphs that are sent in the mornings. It doesn't change the stupid smile on their faces from a digital hug and a kiss that feels all but what it truly is, imaginary. Distance doesn't change the beauty In her blue eyes. It doesn't make the way her hair hangs down look any less gorgeous. It doesn't change all the hours he's spent imagining what their first time together would be like, the feeling of her arms around him. Her perfect little smile being in person. The feeling of their hands perfectly fitting together like long lost puzzle peices. Their first kiss, the whole world stopping as time would seem to go by forever, then finally could he live happily ever after. It doesn't make falling for her hurt any goddamn less either. "I love you" still fucking means something whether or not that distance is there. What does it even mean anymore?  To love somebody. Love isn't just texts and heart emojis. Love is calls until midnight, love is something that is singular. Just for her and no other girls. If you go and start dividing love it's not the same all the meaning vanishes. Love is worrying sick when she isn't okay love is waiting for your blood to clot so that you can pretend that you're okay when she asks. Love is lying to her that you're okay no matter what so she isn't upset. It's the last thing you want to do to someone you truly are in love with is upset them. To know you were the cause of her despair would destroy you. Love is crying yourself to sleep because you hate yourself again after just one argument. Love is spending all night writing poems about things you want to say to but can't because you're afraid to talk to her. Love is... The only thing keeping him going at this point... This is a boy who, when he says he loves you he fucking means it with all he's got. To this boy love is more important than anything else. What else is he supposed to do than fully rely on that one source of it because he's not exaggerating when he says she is all he has. He doesn't have her at all is the sad part. He thinks he does. Only because he loves her but deep down he knows that one day everyone he knows will just be another scar. And never anything more. Distance doesn't change pain either. It doesn't sugar coat the harsh reality that lies ahead. I mean c'mon universe he was truly happy for once that's right he's never allowed to be happy right?  Every single time it's something different. Well you got what you wanted he's back to suffering now. Enjoy your sick entertainment.

The Things I Can't Say Vol. I

"What the hell feelings? Why?  Why in the fuck do you go and like her of all people? Why can't I just not like anyone?  Why is she so damn beautiful all the time.... It's my fault I know it is I just really hope it doesn't end my friendship with her like the others. She's so awesome to have around...  I can't let these damn emotions get in the way. Just gotta pretend everything is fine because it is. I'm okay. We're okay.

What started this? Like I've always found her attractive cause she's a pretty person but NOW is when actual emotions start?

Yes, I know why... Ugh I've had this big crush on her since early February.... I've forced myself to be interested in Sydney so that my emotions wouldn't blossom. Guess that didn’t work. I blame Sophomore Lock down. Being with her most the night...  And watching her amazing curls bounce around as she dances to the breakfast club soundtrack. Her gem-like hazel eyes are easy to get lost in. The kind of thing that just taking a peak at leaves me happier the rest of the day. Along with her beautiful 2 AM smile that never seemed to dim. She still looks that amazing all the time... What's worse is that I'd like her if she was ugly too, her personality is even better...  The way she laughs is probably one of the cutest things I've ever seen.... she's just different from other girls. She understands our suffering, she deals with 10 times more than anyone else and never let's it show. I sound ridiculous. I know she's not my "Type" and I've clearly accepted my zero chances long before this even arose. I don't know, I guess I can't explain why I like her. I just do... And I hate it"

Postlude:
Honestly I laughed re-reading this. I still surprise myself, how invested I get into people no matter how much they will never care back. All the feelings previously expressed have diminished. At least for her. It's only a matter of time before I get addicted to my antidepressants.

My "Best Friend"

My best friend is always there for me. My best friend seems like my only friend most days.
When she wouldn't say "I love you too"  he was there. With his thick,  dark, asphalt like core a handle to hold on to.
The cold sting if his stainless steel as it presses against me.
He always hugged my arm when I was upset. He would only hug the left.
It always stung when he hugged me but I knew that finally someone was there for me.
When I hated myself he was there. He wraps his sharp silver fingers onto my wrist and refused to let go. He held on to me 54 times that night.
I was in so much pain but I know he was proud of me, he was happy to see the dark river flowing, staining the skin red.
I could finally please someone. I was able to be good enough this way.
They tell me he's bad for me, that He shouldn't control me.  They say I should get a new best friend, Zoloft. But I don't want a new friend. He loves me for me already. Sure Zoloft would get me breakfast in the mornings but I don't want that. I can't. Only two meals a day that's it. Just so I won't feel guilty when I eat whatever I want.
I let Zoloft hangout for awhile. It was a different, no more sleepless nights. Her hugs don't hurt me. No more "I'm not hungry" in the mornings. But then Zoloft let left me.
My old best friend got jealous I replaced him. Now he's angry,  I'm back to 2 meals a day and a specific sting in my wrist that honestly missed. 
But things are back to normal. I know I I can please someone again. He loves seeing my blood so I deliver.
He can't replace me. My best friend would never do that. He can get a little overly abusive at times but it's my fault,  I deserved it, I shouldn't have loved her I'm sorry. Get your hands off my neck, stop it, a hug there could never heal.
His rope like arms would tie themselves around my neck. I could hardly breathe but I knew this had to happen.
He carries me to the nearest chair with his arms still around me.
He has me standing now. Almost on my own. But he pushes me.
And his constricting grip countinues for 54 seconds until I've stopped moving.
I trust my best friend.  I know he knows best for me. He's the only one with answers I can understand,  so thank you Depression, for always being my best friend.

Dear Mr. Universe

Dear Mr.Universe, fuck you. Seriously why the hell does my life have to have so much shit preventing me from the one thing I want.

Dear Mr. Universe, why are you such an asshole sometimes? Making a extremely beautiful girl kiss me in a movie theater just to take her away from me the next day.

Dear Mr. Universe, please stop being such a cunt. You're intentionally making me love people I have zero chance with. You enjoy seeing me suffer don't you?

Dear  Mr. Universe, quit fucking compensating,  it's never going to be good enough. You make me love a girl, make her kiss me, just to take her away from me, and what did I get instead?  A decent grade on a test and a surprise Arby's sandwich. Thanks!  That was definitely the equivalent of true love.

Dear Mr. Universe, thank you for at least making my friends happy. They're so ecstatic and joyful, as they find what'll be their true loves, meanwhile you could've at least bought me dinner before you started to fuck me.

Dear Mr. Universe,  I guess it's okay if my own happiness is the price I must pay for others to be happy.  I'm okay with that. At least the people I care about are happy. Just the Fucked up part is my suffering doesn't have anything to do with their happiness.

Dear Mr. Universe,  Thank you for the knife you've created out of thin air made of stained glass. It was nice of you to personalize it for me by staining it in my blood. Engraved now, are the mistakes I cannot forgive myself for; the accident my parents so proudly named Skylar-Moon Rainbow Ferguson, not knowing their baby boy would grow up to only hate the reflection of the monster that lies within his mirror.

Dear Mr. Universe,  I'm just a toy to you aren't I? You just make my emotions run back and forth,  jumping to conclusions like hurdles in the Olympics. Back and forth is all you fucking do, with the girls I love, making me face the people I hate, you even force the knife... Back and forth.... Across me! Over and over again, scar after scar, therapist after therapist,  medication after medication, hospital Visit after fucking hospital Visit it's never enough for you.

Dear Mr. Universe, when will you be satisfied with hurting me, so that I may someday learn to be satisfied by just being myself. Will it ever end? Are you ever going to get your fill and finally leave me be? Thanks to you my wrists are nothing but permanent bar codes  carved by the scars you left with each dried scab representing a different story that all end in proof that I will still never be good enough.

Dear Mr.Universe please... Make it stop,  I don't think I can take it anymore. All toys get old and eventually need to be thrown away including me, just give it a rest before it's too late.

Dear Mr. Universe I'm sorry I can't take it anymore,  I'm too worn, I've been stitched up too many times from your rough housing.

Dear Mr. Universe, this is goodbye. Forever.

Blight Town

Why do I live here? This place is so decrepit a broken down. It’d be better if this place didn't exist at all. Just the name of the place shows they weren’t even trying to make it enjoyable here. I sit here all alone, no one to distract me, no one to save me from myself. Just my thoughts. All my emotions have vanished or gotten eaten up by that thing again. It wasn’t always so horrible to live here. Back when Happiness ran the command center of everything. The colors were so bright and vibrant. Bright rose red and deep nightshade purple. Those were my favorites. Now in times like this there is only gray and black everything. No more roses and no more nightshades. It all started when that thing first moved here. That day everything lost a little color. Eventually all the flowers started to wilt. My happiness, it tried to fend off this dark monster who called himself depression but nothing worked. Happiness even became violent to try and get him to go away and it did nothing but scar me in the process. Now it’s too late. Happiness is gone for good. She won’t ever come back. It killed her. Without her there’s nothing I can do. Happiness used to leave occasionally for maybe a month or two at a time. But I could survive those times, back then I knew it would be able to come back. Now all I have left are the memories of it. But most times those memories only hurt because I’m reminded that she’s gone now. Thinking back on it Happiness wasn’t always the same either. In the beginning she had this rainbow of hair colors and shiny green eyes. Then as time went on that image faded she went grey for a while and I don’t remember seeing happiness much. Once I saw her again she had deep purple hair this time. Instead of green, her eyes were now this beautiful ocean blue. But by then Depression had already moved in. I think my favorite memory of happiness is when she had half blonde, half blue hair. With blue eyes again but more like the sky than the ocean. None of that matters anymore; all of that’s in the past, this monster controls me completely now. Regulating anything you could imagine, how much I eat, how much I sleep, how much I drink. It dictates whether or not I should even feel happy anymore. Somehow he’s gained the ability to mimic all my old emotions, even Happiness herself. He can act like everything’s okay when it’s not in any way. What I hate more is when he’s in a really sadistic mood he cuts me. Over and over until there’s so much blood I could hardly breathe. Doesn’t even use a knife or a razor. He uses the things that hurt worse like my own fingernails or a thick piece of metal from a mechanical pencil. It’s like there’s no way out. The door back to a happy world is sealed completely. The only key to unlock it I’ve found, is death.

A Happy Ending

            After all the times she’s hurt him, lied to him, gotten all of his hopes up in the last year and crushing his heart over and over without even dating him; Gwyndolin still loved her. He has given all a hopeless boy could to her and in actuality she never seemed to care. Nevertheless he still chased after her. After today, seeing her and breaking into tears immediately, he sits in his bed, wrapped up in his hoodie hiding himself and his scars from the world. Was asking for some girl, any girl to truly love him for once still too much? It was another one of those nights, laying there crying again trying his hardest not to cut himself. The adrenaline calmed the boy when he got like this. Just like the night before I sit and observe him. Trying to figure out why he acts this way. The average person would have given up on such a thoughtless bitch he fell in love with. Was it because he knew I was there? I’m just a voice in his head there’s no way I’m the cause of this. Whenever I try and tell Gwyndolin the truth that he’s just never going to be with her he just cries some more and complains about his “bad thoughts”. I consider myself the truth, the fact that this world he’s in won’t ever change. He sits to himself saying he has depression. I have never heard that word before. Is he referring to me? All my input about his unattractiveness or reminding him he’s alone? I’m only stating facts. “Wait Gwyndolin!” I yell at him even though I’m in his head. “Here’s a thought” I whisper, “You should just die. It’s such a simple solution. All your pain goes away. She can’t hurt you anymore if you’re dead its perfect!”

He thinks to himself “My depression is getting really bad. I shouldn’t listen to it. He’s lying. Wouldn’t people miss me?”

“But they wouldn’t Gwyn. You know that deep down I’m right. You are fucking worthless and no one will ever love such mess as yourself. You’re doing yourself and the world a favor. Think of how the girl feels, you always begging her to be with you all your annoying sweet texts, she won’t miss you. You pathetic bastard.” Am I wrong for making him want to kill himself? “Depression” as he calls me is only doing what’s best for him. “C’mon, just do it already. Get it over with, Take that knife and just cut your neck this time it won’t hurt for long. Don’t you want to make her pay for hurting you? For not loving you back, this is her fault, now you’ll never be happy as long as you’re living, you know the rules, and ‘No one really cares about you unless you’re pretty or dying’”. Gwyndolin picks up the knife, breathing one last time, He puts it to his throat. One quick movement of his forearm, the blood began to trickle down his chest and drip to the floor. He had finally finished his story. He died, happily ever after. 

The Fall

There he stood on the edge of the wall
He looks down and thinks "I want to fall"
What would lead this boy so far?
The pain and the words the created the scars?
Why would he want to die?
Was it that stupid bitch, and her fucking lies?
It began with those nights when he always stayed awake.
He had cried so much he did Nothing but shake.
The next night instead he cut.
Anything to please that fucking slut.
He waits and begins to cut some more.
He screams: "Is this what you wanted you goddamn whore?!"
The blood showed through his shirt.
But emotionally he was so much more hurt.
The things she did...made him so pissed.
He was left with no choice but to slit his wrists.
Still on the edge,  lead there by love.
Maybe if he jumped he could become a dove.
Days pass people still live their lives.
Noone even knows the name of that guy.
Just one nice word could've been used to prevent.
Those cold dark stains of his blood left on the cement.

Hurt

Oh, hello.  I see you're awake. "Where am I?" That's not important you won't be going home.  Stop fucking screaming.  I take the screwdrivers and Stab his hand nailing it to the arm of the chair.  Oops looks like your fingernails are still on. Let me fix that. I take the pliers and slowly tear off each nail. Each one slower than the last. Oh that hurts? Oh well. I'm not stopping your pain. Why? Because no one bothered to stop mine! All they do is sit and pretend they Care and when you finally go crazy and wonder why like it hasn't been boiling over for a long time! Now, back to the skin on your back. I think your spine is a lot prettier when you show it dear. I take the cheese Grater and peel away at him until he is almost no more. Oh you're just crying now?  Boo hoo. You still don't know why you're here? You don't remember?  That's exactly fucking why you're here because you didn't care enough to remember!  Hmm your knees look awful dry. Let me sand them away for you. Now that you're nearly drowning in your own blood,  much like I was.I believe it's finally time.  I take out a surgical knife.  I slowly carve a tear in his cheek. Permanently crying now. Oh look I gave myself one long ago. Back when sorry still meant something from you. Now do you see?  Do you remember yet? Do you!  You don't. That's too bad. I guess our game is over now farewell. I take the scalpal and drive it through his eye out the other side of his skull. Emotions are all fun and games to people. Until someone creates a serial killer.

Walking

I walk along. I see them. I keeping walk for them.my feet are bleeding I can't walk anymore I can't.  But I need to for them. Wait... I look back. They've barely taken any steps. I've walked Miles and it's like they haven't moved at all. Why? I ask. No answer.  I brush it off and keep walking.  hours later I see they still haven't moved it's like they don't care but I do. I just keep walking and walking all for them. Still nothing they still won't fucking move. I've lost so much blood my feet are worn to the bone. I guess I'll just walk until I die. Alone.

A Shattered World

This world... Lately I've looked at it so differently.  Any sharp objects,  they catch my attention more, I don’t trust myself picking them up. Any thin seams, even a small ray of sunlight looks like a cut to me. It just reminds me of the blood. A crack in the door reminds me of  the darkness in my wounds. The words "Kill Yourself " catch me off guard a lot more often now. In fact anytime it's said to me regardless of the context my stomach drops and I hold my arm. I often hear "Don't kill yourself " due to clumsiness and tripping on things but only if they knew... I look in a mirror I don't see myself anymore.  I see a something rather than someone,  but it's not like anyone else but her sees me as a person anyway. I don’t even see something just my scars. Standing alone focusing on nothing else but the dried blood splatter.  I started to see others differently too. I pay more attention to those who wear hoodies on the hottest days. With extreme bags under their eyes. I even start to examine anyone's wrists to see... If they look just like mine. But above this Shattered World I've submerged myself in there's a better place.  I've only been there once since summer began. Because she's the only way there. She's everything to me. She reminds me that I'm not just a bag of pain with scars no one wants to deal with. She reminds me that I'm just me, a dork that can make her laugh, that means a lot to her. Yet I can never remember that on my own. I need her. In every way there is to need someone.  I need her soon. I don’t want to be submerged any farther,  eventually she won't be able to pull me out any more.  She'll be stuck watching me drown.