forum 𝔸𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 ~𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤

Started May 14, 2020 by Deleted user

tune

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Just little thoughts you have when you're alone. They can be happy. They can be sad. They can be long. They can be short. They can be thought out. They can be messy.
Just a little space for you to share these thoughts.
You won't be judged. I've come to realise that a lot of people on this site come here because of mental health issues.
If you feel the need to DM someone, please do. Just don't fill this chat with unnecessary things.
So…I'll start.

Do I like you?
Or do I just like the idea of you?
I'm confused, and I hate questioning myself.
But I must, otherwise I won't know myself.

There's a boy in my grade.
I used to like him.
I confessed to him, but he said no.
We let the matter go, but remained friends.

I thought I was over him.
But then I saw his stories.
I saw his face again.

I saw his eyes.
I saw his jawline.
I saw his smile.

I saw the concentration he had on his face when he played guitar.
I saw how nice he was and how he much he tried to make people laugh.
I saw how he always made an effort to smile or wave at me even though he knows I liked him.

I saw how I wanted that in a partner.
I saw how he might care for me.
I saw how he might help me love myself.

And then I saw that it wouldn't happen.
I saw that I barely knew him anymore.
I saw that he didn't like me back.

So again, I ask myself.
Do I like you?
Or do I like the idea of you?

I don't think I'll ever know.
Stuck in a cycle of confusion in myself.
But at least I now know these things.
At least I can stop myself before I get hurt.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of everything in general.

Not just because I don't get enough sleep.

I'm tired of school. I'm tired of life. I'm tired of living.

I'm stressed, and I'm overworked.

It's going to be a lot worse next year when I start grade twelve, and I sometimes think that I can't handle it. 

I sometimes hear the little voice in the back of my head, left over from three years ago, whispering: "Wouldn't it just be easier to end it?"

And yeah, yeah it would. But I have goals in life. I have good friends that I can rely on, even if I don't know how to tell them I'm struggling.

Sure, I sometimes agree with the voice, but there's so much I have to do.

And I think that even though it would be easier for me, doing it would make things worse for everything around me.

But those thoughts still don't change the underlying thing.

I'm tired.

This poem is based off the story of James Patrick Bulger. He was a two-year-old who was kidnapped, tortured and killed by two 10-year-old boys: Robert Thompson and Jon Venables. He died on the 12th of February 1993, in Liverpool.
This poem was written after watching a video about what happened last year in English Class.
This poem is written from the perspective of either Robert or Jon's parents, although it is not specified in the poem.
Please be warned that these events happened. They have not been fabricated by myself. I hope you might be able to watch a video on the case. It is truly fascinating and not something that should be forgotten by time.

My Son

my son killed a toddler.
i didn't know he was capable.

my son smashed the boy's head in.

my son threw paint in the boy's eye.

my son dropped the boy on his head.

my son layed the boy on train tracks.

my son covered the boy in rubble.

my son let the boy be run over by a train.

my son took the boy from his family.

my son killed a toddler.
i knew he was capapble.

i never really realized how many memories and how much personal meaning a song can carry.
it is almost midnight, and i just finished listening to "Everglow" by Coldplay
after not hearing it for almost two years.
i broke down in tears as soon as it started playing.
it holds so many memories of a happier, simpler time,
of my old home,
my old friends,
my old life.
i miss it.
it's selfish,
but i really miss it.
i would do
anything
to relive it.
and here i am, silently crying again at my computer in the middle of my dark room.

I tried

I really tried

But…

I'm tired

I'm tired of trying

I'm tired of not seeing changes

I'm tired of giving my all and seeing that it's still not enough

I'm tired of me…

Of my reflection, of my imperfections

…And all my wounds that still don't close

I hate all of me

I'm just tired of trying to love me

If you could understand what you did to me
Would you cry?
If you could see what you've made me
Would you apologize?
If you heard me at night
Would you offer a hug?
You knew you were my light
So why did you run?
It's alright.
I'm not mad.
I don't want to fight.
I'm just a little bit sad.
I want you back.
But that can't happen.
You won't be back.
I can't let that happen.
You broke me once
But won't again.
I've found my voice.
Farewell, my "friend."

good morning, students
today will be another bad day
now I ask you not
to tell the young ones
that school is a war-zone
and they are the victims
don't tell them that this isn't
a new chapter in their life
but rather, a last for many
as they hand in their last
assignment to death
and let him take them
to a 'safer' place
he will tell you there are no more tears
or no assignments to stress you
or no hormones to make you emotional
but death doesn't grade by the letter
so how would you ever know you're
good enough?
don't tell the young ones
there is a place that is better for them
because death doesn't deserve
your research investigations
or your english speeches
he doesn't believe they are necessary
but of course they are necessary
if you can't solve for x
how will you pay your taxes?
how will you live without knowing
the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell?
death is no friend to you
though your classmates may have thought so
they haven't gone to a better place
because we are the stepping stones to a better place
where you have a white picket fence
and a job that treats you like you're nothing
now, isn't that what you want?

who tf is cutting onions in here

my eyes are sweating

no, you don't understand,
it's not that i don't try, it's
that i try so fucking hard to be
worth your time, to be funny
and smart and pretty and deserving
of your love, but
despite every attempt
i'm still not enough.

nothing hurts more
than trying your
absolute best
and still not feeling
good enough.

it’s always the same two
when they talk about their marks
and it’s 20/20
when there’s a practice exam
the teacher uses them as examples
and I want to feel good for them
they’re my friends, after all
but how can I, when I know
I will always be just adequate

i need to say thank you
thank you for being my friend
thank you for showing me that i'm not worthless
thank you for showing me that the things i was told in primary isn't true
thank you for being there for me to share my emotions with you even if i never do
thank you for not allowing my trouble in grade 8 come between our friendship
thank you for showing me that i am more loved than i ever thought i would be
i have so much love for you
so much love that i don't know how to tell you
so much love that i can only hope you know how much i have
so thank you
thank you so much

today I met with my therapist
and she said something to me
that will stay forever
“this is why I never became a teacher,
my dear
because I believe it isn’t humane”
they teach us things we’ll never use and
make us hate ourselves over it
we’re just kids that are forced
to overthink everything
to grow up before we’re ready
and she’s right
that just isn’t humane

And it hurts that I can't be
what everyone wants
or what anyone needs
and it hurts that I can't be
what I want
or what I need
because I'm not enough
and I won't be enough
and I will never be close to enough
and I'm just so damn tired.

there's a reason why
people connect more to
sad poems than to happy poems.
it's not because they are sad.
no, it's because they've felt
sadness stronger than happiness.

i admire the people who can put up a mask to hide their emotions.
not because they're hiding their emotions, that's still a bad thing.
but because they're hiding their emotions so well.
looking at them, you would never know that they could ever be sad.
they're so good at hiding their emotions that they look like the strong friend.
they look like the person who has had nothing happen to them.
they look like the person whose life is perfect.

i often feel like one of those people.
i'm so bad at telling people my emotions that it seems like i have no problems.
i hate being like that, but i don't want to burden people.
they have their own problems.
so i bottle.
they say that tears are words that the heart can't say.
too bad i never cry around anyone.

in Afrikaans there’s a saying
for when the sun shines
as rain pours
it makes no sense
“the jackal marries
the wolf’s wife”
in their language it rhymes
but there’s a point to me
saying this.
sometimes we forget
that the little things
can mean as much as
the big
that sometimes it feels like everything’s
falling apart
but then it rains
and as the water hits your face
the sun shines down
and warms you
there’s little things like that
that will never fail
to make me remember
the world can be good too

     it's just sad that when i push people
         away
     they just go and don't even try to
         stay

Ignored once more.
Alone again.
I'm not really lonely though…
Just disappointed in myself.
Disappointed that I can't do better.
I can't be the person that everyone likes.
I'm just me…
And I guess that's not enough.
Maybe I should just give up?
Leave it behind me.
Go away forever?
Never try again.
Just leave people alone.
Maybe I won't be annoying anymore?

But..why do I crave this?
Why do I desire attention?
Do I really need recognition?
Why can't I be satisfied with what I have?
Can't I let it go?
Just drop the idea that I can be enough?

It's pointless to try.
I've known that for years.
But my heart doesn't understand.
I'm just not enough.
My mind knows.
It understands.
But my heart is harder to convince.
It still tries to receive love that it'll never get.
If only I could unplug my heart.
Let my mind be in control.
My mind seems to be more logical.
More down to earth.
While my heart is hurting me.
Making me believe things.
Things that will never come true.

God…it hurts.
Thinking that I'll be known.
The idea is a fantasy.
A fantasy that I can't stop dreaming about.
I'd do anything to make it come true.
Even become a new person.
Put on a mask.
Hide myself away.
Be someone new.
That might be interesting.
Someone that others could be intrigued by.
But that didn't even work.
I'm just boring.
Just not enough.

she didn't want love
she wanted to be loved
and that
was entirely different.

-Atticus

I crave you
in the most
innocent form.
I crave to say
good night
and give you
forehead kisses
and to say
that I adore you
when you feel
at your worst.
I crave you
in ways
where I just
want to be
next to you
and nothing
more or less.

There's this really powerful scene from a movie I forgot the title of. It's at the very end. The main character is a boy who's mom is dying of cancer. Throughout the movie, the boy has a recurring nightmare that the whole world collapses, and he has to hold onto his mom's hand or she'll fall into the nothing. Everytime, he can't hold on for long and his mother falls to her death.

In the scene, the boy's inner demon/imaginary guardian replays the nightmare. The world collapses, he holds onto his mom, slipping off a cliff, and eventually she falls. The nightmare stops. The guardian demands he tell the truth about why he let go. The boy tells him she slipped, she was too heavy, etc. The guardian screams for the truth. The boy stutters, not knowing how to answer. The guardian continues asking. Finally, the boy screams back "I just wanted it to be over."

This nightmare paralleled his real life. He was sick of the new cancer treatments, the death scares, not knowing what would happen, sick of seeing his mother sick. He was sick of the suspense. He was sick of not knowing whether his mom would live or die. He was sick of constantly searching for little pieces of hope just to be let down. He was sick of holding on. As much as he loved his mother, he couldn't handle seeing her that way. He just wanted the whole thing to be over, whether she lived or died, he just wanted an ending. No more suspense or stress. Finality. Closure.

The scene is raw. Some of the best acting I've seen, and one of the most powerful messages portrayed in film. I cry every time. I wish I remembered the title.

I feel I relate too much. I don't have a dying mother, but sometimes I think I'm dying. I'm worn out, mentally. Emotionally exhausted. I'm angry at myself for sustaining my own life, making myself hurt longer than necessary. I'm sick of holding on, too, just like the main character. I'm sick of clinging to empty hopes. I don't know if I'll ever get better, but so far I'm just getting worse. I just want all this to be over. I want to let go.

Sunrise.
Reset.
Forget the tears of last night.
Remove the pain of yesterday.
Put on my smile.
I'm the fake me today.