Meet me on the equinox...

I have no clue what's wrong with me.
I'm depressed.
I'm lonely.
I'm suicidal. Very suicidal. I will never admit that IRL though.
I wish someone could give me a pill to fix it.
I don't eat. When I do, I purge.
I'm scared to death of being close to anyone.
I want to cut and burn, cut and burn, cut my face, burn the cuts. God help me.
Someone tell me what's wrong.

Some Poetry.

So... In my Creative Writing class, I've written 5 poems so far... 3 not so serious, and 2 serious. So I'ma post them.

No Sound But The Wind
Thanksgiving used to be fun
until dad died.
Until you remarried and ran away,
hoping to hide from the hollow demons of your past
with us.

Now you're making a new day
selective and self gratifying
only inviting the people who will praise your pretty little life.

Thanksgiving isn't so fun anymore
is it?
Laden with the pining, pain, and wishes,
left with only the soft sigh of suicide.


I Am
The bouncy bubblegum pop music of the 90s.
An electric purple ink pen, bursting with brightness.
Open arms,
spilling blood red lines of honesty onto open books of life.
A sea of bitter happiness, roaring with darkness one moment,
calming to warm and inviting the next.

Heaps
Cans and bottles, cups and jars.
liquid energy for the day.
Mt. Dew, and Amps, Starbuck, and Poptarts.
The only way we get through.
Those people who only drink water?
They must actually sleep at night.
Welcome to college.

Meaning?
Notes for our classes thrown away
Our soda was the only thing we paid attention to, anyway.
A flier for a meeting? like we care.
All our money goes to paper, Starbucks, and soda
we throw them away like it is nothing.
Is this what college means to us?

Stare
Productivity gone way down,
Staring at a pile of trash.
Starbucks, Snapple, Mt. Dew too,
the rulers of my energy.
I need to give in again.