One minute you’re there,
Next minute you’re not,
One minute I’m cold,
Next second I’m hot,
Sometimes it feels so real,
Then I discover it’s a dream.

You’re standing right there,
I refuse to believe it,
I think that you’re fake,
And doubt myself not one bit,
I believe that this is a dream,
And never realise that it’s real.

I’m sick in my head,
I’m sick in my bed,
I think that I’m dead,
When I’m actually not.

I know this is real,
Deep down I can feel
That this is the real deal-
And I don’t mean pot.

But one thing that is clear,
This is not my imagination,
And if I hurt you, dear,
It wasn’t me, but my hallucinations.



This earth is nothing but a circle
Made of something brown called soil
Filled with things made of sticks called bones
Layered with something called flesh
Installed with something called organs
Lungs, hearts, etcetera, etcetera
And a mouth that they use to say rude to others
…that MOST use to say rude things to others
That very few use to say nice things

Flesh-layered walking sticks (bones)
That destroys the circle we live on
Our circle which was once lovely
But now just painful to witness
With what they are doing now
In this modern day
This circle that could have been way better
But it seems tha people don’t care
Until things become very bed
They never care
That this kind of people they are
They only care about themselves
Selfish bags of bones
Someone should teach them
Show them
Make them experience the consequences
Of their actions
They need to put themselves in other people’ shoes
So they can know the feeling of how other people feel when you all
Attack us
Disrespect us
Hurt us
Abandon us
Treat us like nothing; like slaves

I’m sure that
If our lives were switched
You’d know all thing things I’d have to go though
Experience them rather
Maybe it would make you realize that your life may be miserable
But that doesn’t mean that you have to pour out your emotions
Of hatred and whatsoever
On someone else
Because you never know if the other person that it worse than you
So think before you speak
And before you act
That would make thing so much better.


I’m happy yet sad
Depressed yet mad
And want to disappear so badly
But the people I know
And the people I love
Are the ones that prevent me from doing what I want
Which is the wrong thing anyways
And definitely not what you are thinking
I mean like locking myself in my room
And eating only to keep myself alive
But I don’t do that…
I’m active and social and loving it
Although I still get depressed sometimes
And all in all
I never wish myself to die
Which is why I love my friends
Because they are always there for me
Through thick and thin
And hot and cold
And are obviously the best friends
In the whole wide world
They’re there for me
And I for them
It’s like were a family
But with no blood relation
But blood doesn’t matter
It’s the thought that counts
And the things they do for you
That makes you want to bounce
Up and down till you tire yourself
I think I went overboard there
And I don’t really care
Because I know I’m exaggerating
How much I love my friends
Even though they sometimes can be
A pain in the neck
But they mean a lot to me
And that’s that
And just to let you know
Everything I just said was 100% a fact.


I feel like I’ve lost my friends.
One by one they disappear…
No longer becoming dear to me.
But, what can I say?
If they didn’t like my friendship,
Then I can’t say otherwise.
It’s their life,
Not mine,
If they don’t want to be friends again,
I won’t say otherwise either.
I just hope that I’ll be okay,
Like I was before I met them,
But I know it’s never gonna be that way.
I’m still gonna hurt.
Hurt because I loved them.
Because they were a part of me-
Of my life,
Now gone,
Ripped away.
My therapy is replacement.
Even though I know
I’ll never find a friend
That was as unique as they were,
Made me smile as they did.
Life makes unexpected turns.
Carries you in one direction,
Then punches you in the gut
And tells you,
“Nope, wrong direction,”
And you turn around, and head elsewhere.
So that’s what I’ll do.
Make a turn.
Hopefully I won’t get punched in the gut,
But that’s inevitable, I’m sure.
I will always fall,
Someone will always pick me up,
And I’ll always get punched in the gut,
And have to walk away,
Licking my wounds.