A Collection Of Self Written Poems.

Did Someone Say Middle Child Syndrome?

You wondered why she wouldn't tell you about it . She always saw you laughing and decided not to drag you down.

Tears of red . Flow down her tips. Red-stained carpet. Drying tears. As she is consumed. In a never-ending sleep.

How would you know. How I feel?! You never see me. Breaking down at night. Crying myself asleep. You've never known. How it feels. To be the middle. The last. The scapegoat. The friendless. The 3rdwheel. The one that was left. The one who was cut. Beyond repair. The one who is disrespected. Disregarded . Discarded. Invisible. The unseen. The unlovable. The harmed so much. That you couldn't cry. Until someone came. So close. Without running so fast. But know I'm gone. So don't say you know. How I feel. You've never known me.

They all think. I was only suicidal. In 5th grade. They don't realize. How easy it is. For me to . Lie in their unsuspecting faces . Nikki believes me. Blaine believes me. Though I don't think he cares. Sara believes me. And she is the most closest to me . To me. Shelley believes me. And she's my sister . Jasmine believes me. Lexie believes me. My family doesn't see . Me . If I live. To Middle School graduation. I will tell them. The truth. But until then . They have to guess. Why I don't. Hug anymore. Why I barely smile. They don't need to know so soon.

Aspergers . Depression. They are murderers on their own. But together. They are the angels of death.

As she was layed . Down on her coffin. Her song was played. And we remembered. Her singing this. Through closed doors. And the last words. To leave her mouth. Were.....................................
(Cue the music up top )

They said that she shouldn't have died. At such a young age. But what they don't realize. Is that they're the reason. That she died. They don't realize. That they told her to die. By insulting her . Striking her. And here they are. Weeping for the girl. They told to kill herself.

My best friend was so joyful. But back in January. On New Years Eve . At the stroke of midnight. She took a gun. And shot her self. We never thought. That she was depressed. Her note was a mask . With the words ' Look on my phone, at the section pain. Good bye, you horrid world. ' . We looked on her phone. Her note was there. Her will was there too . We never knew. How much the world. Had cut her . We never knew .

The most innocent. Of people. Still hide a secret. For some. It's a disease. For others, it's a secret past . But for me. I harbor a dark secret. I have my demons. Who grew from kindergarten. They will most likely grow. Farther and farther. But no one will know. That I have always. Wanted to die. But no one will know. My darkest secret.

The most prettiest of angels . Have the most darkness of secrets.

They must never know. How much problems I have. They don't realize. The suffering they've thrown. Upon me.

They always say they'll be there, but when they aren't. What am I suppose to do?

The most beautiful girl. Always has . The most scariest of past.

The most brightest of days. Still have their shadows.