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we are teenagers who fight. shit happens we lie;we cheat;we feel the study pressure;we fall in love and end up with a broken heart. we bitch about the bitches-drink till we pass out. Hardships are faced and loneliness hide our silent cry. Still we are young at heart. Wearing a sexy smile the teens bash around!! During each phase learning expressing fighting is common. Some emotions are felt within if u want to refresh them read my short poems dealing with wave of hues!!! 85# in poetry!!

Have you ever wondered what goes on inside of the mind of a truly broken soul? The mind of a person with severe mental disorders. The one who smiles on the outside but is really dying within. The one that always appears happy. The person that you'd never guess was suffering every single day. Have you ever questioned what could break a person so badly? Have you ever wanted to get inside the mind of that person? This poetry is mine. This is me, opening my damaged mind to be discovered. Inside you'll find the raw emotions of a truly broken soul.

Drink up~ the loneliness. Broken.~ Crushed.~ Shattered.~ Torn.~ Explore my deepest.. We have to lose grip and lose ourselves to realise things, accept the changes even if it takes someone so precious to let go and break you in pieces I remember being once a teenager and thinking I had no one to speak to. So I wrote my pain in poems, it did help but having to think my friends or Family would never understand. I was wrong. Mental health matters. Volume. I

I've cried too hard for too long as I debated death. Over and over, all I wanted was a quick overdose, a quick way to escape the pain. Until the guilt set it and made me realise, suicide feels too selfish. Instead I turned my sadness into art and my pain into strength. Desperately wanting to carve up my skin, I bled on a page. My screams are silent, hidden behind closed doors, And computer screens. All these horrible emotions kept secret in notebooks. I'm too afraid to speak about it, so I write it down That's how my poetry is made. ~The birth of poetry -Me ____ First place in 2021 Irenic Awards poetry catergory Highest rankings: #16 original work #2 relapsing

What does it mean to be broken? (I wrote this poem myself) ______________________________ Why be sad? When no one knows how bad You feel your Pain makes you sore. Why be mad? When no one can tell How hard you fell How it hurts MORE than a tad. Why be happy? Be like all those sappy People pretending to be What they want you to see. Why be frightened? Senses heightened Screaming, As sick people are beaming. Why be tired? When no one knows How your wired How you grow. Why be honest? When all known is a broken promise When no one believes you Even if what you say is true. Why hurt? When no one feels your pain When no one's ever alert When you never feel sane. Why pretend? When you know in the end No one will be there Because no one cares. Why care? When no one cares enough for you To know what your going through They think your heart is unfair. Why try? When no one sees that you do They just pry Thinking they know more than you. Why speak? When no one will ever hear They'll say you're a freak They don't see a single tear. Why do anything at all? It's not like anyone will see If you fall If you scream. ____________________________________ "Just admit it Winter. After the whole accident....your broken." "No...No that's where your wrong. I'm not broken. Because to be broken, you had to have been whole in the first place."

I've always hated the saying "Time heals all wounds." Maybe in most cases that may be true. In my experience with life and pain however, time has only ever bled out the wound. The scars that the wounds left behind though, are often so deep that just looking at them becomes painful to the mind. Time only heals what you let go of. Sometimes letting go and moving on just doesn't feel possible; no matter how much time you let pass you by. These poems signify what time hasn't healed for me.

I once loved this boy, the feelings were intoxicating. It took over. I was being tortured by this unrequited love I felt for almost two years. This is my journey of figuring out how to live with it. "Summary": Hurt me, beat me, with the violence of words, and I will explode But maybe it hurts for a reason I want to hurt him I am me because of him Maybe I need the pain to live The only thing I know is that I'm dying Now I have to live with the consequences of the things he did(n't) do He'll hurt me no matter what he does Maybe hell and heaven are the same thing, but I choose to die his way We would be perfectly flawed and unperfectly flawless together, if only he could love me once But darling, I have a fear of falling apart This is a cry for help I'm crashing Fight for me, fight against me, fight against him But isn't it fear that keeps me alive also? I don't hurt anymore I am in so much pain I am a disaster waiting to happen I'm not afraid to die A lot of love to give, and no love gotten I love the things that kill me, and kill the things that love me It hurts to love him, but you can love someone without loving yourself, in that destructive kind of way

I'm always searching for something worth staying for but I can't seem to find that until then please don't mind me because I'm just a traveler passing through. When I'm not satisfied or happy I'll leave and find a new path, so just let me say goodbye... Can I say goodbye? I wrote till my hands bruised and heart bled. I wrote and wrote in hopes that some day, somebody will understand my words and all the things I wish I could say... Each poem is a story. My story. Some are fictional but most of them are true. I know you're curious. From painful heart breaks to high school stories. A person dealing with mental illnesses, fears and abuse. Won't you like to know about the drama?

It's her. It can only be her. My desperation has struck new limits for this girl. There are a lot of odds against us. The undeniable attraction. The pain of not being able to touch one another. The scare of our future. And the uncertainty of whether we'll make it out together. We're two worlds apart. A distance that is seemingly impossible to cross. But I would do anything to be with her. All my stories, all my letters, all the simple sentences I thought of in my head. None have come close to grazing even the slightest bit of my love for her. All my love is for her.

Here you will find short examples of poetry, from me, a broken man. I'm not as broken as others, but as a writer, one of the most creative and vulnerable things you can be is broken. If you have one take away from these, please make it this; Check up on your friends, your family, your acquaintances, your enemies and people you don't even know. You never know what they're going through, and the difference you might make to them.