The more I grow up the more I get older
Physically yes, but psychologically more
It’s like we have to be much more colder, to live life without being hurt
We build up walls so that we don’t get burned, that we fight
the urge of genuinely caring for each other.

Sweetheart, I’m only twenty years old and I started building this house of stone guarded by
Thorns to tear apart those
Who try to destroy the only heart
That I have
A lot of people don’t understand that
The joy that I have is not me trying
To be happy
If I were to be happy,
I’d have been dead a long time ago.
Happiness is based on circumstance, and the circumstances I’ve been through
Haven’t even gently kissed the
Word “kind”
I can tell you that over 20 times I’ve been so close to suicide
So how can you give me such a temporary
Diagnosis if you don’t even
know or want to know
what’s going on
inside my mind?
I’ve come so close to losing this fight because I’ve been told so many times that I am nothing, and a no one
And I believed it for a while

“Oh my precious darling there is someone out there that has it worse than you”

You know what? That may be true
And I don’t want to be selfish…
So I sit in my bathtub, vulnerable and naked, and broken
holding a bottle of pills with my pruney hands
Tightly clenched
My eyes drenched from a constant salty abyss.
And cry quietly so no one can listen to me, praying silently
Someone save me from this
Choice I’m about to make

ARE YOU INSANE PEOPLE
DONT YOU THINK IVE TRIED TO FOLLOW THIS GAME OF TRYING
AND TRYING
AND TRYING AND TRYING
to BE HAPPY…. Just to survive.

It’s like trying to tell a man with no legs, to run a race…
Or the blind woman to describe the colours of the autumn trees.
It’s like an impossible, insulting remedy to try and cheer people up; when the people who just see grey, are trying so hard
To display an emotion
That is so hard to obtain
When inside it’s full of sadness and a response that says “I’m fine. No really.
I’m okay.”

I’m tired of these corny bible desserts people have tried to feed me.
“Oh The Lord wasn’t depressed so ye must be heealed thee”
So you’re telling me you want me to suppress this pain that I have carried?
“Oh no no what I’m saying is that you’re a bitter human being, and Christians shouldn’t be sad, and Christians should live happy and live happily and always be happy, and while you’re at it… Just put a smile on your face and forget the past. And while you forget the past, STOP SOBBING YOU ARE MAKING A SCENE.”
IM TRYING IM TRYING TO BE QUIET
STOP LISTENING TO ME

I tell this story,
Hopefully opening my life up to you
Take it or leave but I only ask you to chew this slowly.
Hiding no longer holds me
The pain no longer scares me
The only way to heal is to open up in a raw and fully.

A little blonde girl, big blue eyes
And pretty bows
Laughing her head off, but inside
Her little heart no one knows
That she has cried over and over in her poems
she never wants to grow older
She’s growing colder,
And she hates it
Her hands are freezing,
Someone warm her up please….

Since 6 years old, she’s experienced the brutality of words.
She was told by the demons
In her mind,
And inside other people’s minds,
that she was so unwanted, that
“Hey this girls parents have been lying this whole time that they loved her. ”

At 10 years old, she went to a camp to try and make friends,
To try and learn about how much God loves her but…
She thought if God loved her so much, why would he let her meet
The people who changed her mindset on life?
It was a mix of girls between the ages of 10-14
And that little blonde girl was trying so hard to fit in
But fitting in cost her stabs within
They would take her letters that this girl wrote to her mom, bring them to the bathroom, and wipe themselves
CLEAN
with it and give it back to her.
They called that “fun”.

Even the camp counsellor didn’t believe her, she would tell that little girl that it won’t happen again,
But when it did happen again
That little girl looked at her counsellor and…
That counsellor laughed…
That little girl was never defended
What the counsellor said.
Her word was not kept.

She was told she was so stupid that she would never get a real
Career.
Her friends parents would tell her that she won’t get a real job with her attitude,
She had to constantly prove she was smart like her friends…
She was that girl who couldn’t understand the numbers,
The equations or the decimals.
She choked when the teacher would try to teach her,
And once the teacher asked her to answer an equation in front of the class,
The girl was so frail, like glass.
And the teacher replied “Answer stupid!”
That little girl…..
She………..

Stupid……

she was that funny one who could get people laughing,
That one person who was everyone’s shoulder to cry on,
But when that girl had tears
In fear of rejection,
She cried alone on a cold boulder,
she stayed strong because rejection wasn’t an option
So she bottled up emotions.
She stayed hidden in pride
At 12 years old she wrote stories about her dreams that she disappeared from her world of pain,
And leaving to find a place of relief and acceptance.

She wanted to disappear. That’s where it all started, and that’s when she started writing
She wrote about death like it was a nonchalant response to her
brokenness.
She didn’t know how to control the hurt inside,
She felt she was wasting others valuable time by opening up what’s inside.
She was like a broken painted window,
So colourful on the surface but so broken on the ground..

This little girl grew up with acne
And smiles,
Her smile was the only thing that could hide
her defiled face.
Her smile was the only thing she had at the age of fifteen
Her innocence was stolen from a boy who didn’t deserve a piece of her sweetness.
He craved her from the start,
And threw it all away
With more than half a dozen girls including one of her best friends,
And all for a boy in the end,
To realize that he was better off
Wanting more and more from
This sweet girl who had nothing left
To offer.

And this anger boiled
To this heart-wrecked broken heart
Being used by a boy who
Tore her apart, and tried to take her all,
But her escaping the basement of a dark relationship
was a close call,
But it will never leave her memory,
He was a boy who didn’t know what love was,
Only lust ran through his mind,
As he eyed this broken girl every single time.
She left him.
So she could leave her brokenness behind.

And hey….
She never felt this way….
She cried herself to sleep in joy
Why? Why? How can you say why?
Do you see that smile? No one can ever take that smile from her.
See her smile?
When she found out she got lost in him
And she realized he got lost in her,
And they got lost as they let themselves be lost in love ,
And isn’t it great to be with someone who sees life the way you do,
For me it’s like i feel my soul breaking open,
From this frozen tomb.
It’s this blessing, from whom someone can make life so beautiful.

But that tomb relapsed, and the tears collapsed, as her heart was crushed, and her walls were broken, as she tried to escape
The pain from this nightmare when she
Heard the mocking all over again.

You are so mentally and emotionally unstable,
That I don’t want to open up to someone who is so different from me.
Take my son away? I’ll take your name away.
You’ve got it all wrong,
No no this is my only son and I can’t let him go because he is MINE.

So you’re going to justify that and claim I’m a bitter human being, so you can cover your pride.
Will it hurt your pride? Is that against your personality to be transparent inside?

A NIGHTMARE phase took place – being called the reason one’s life or one’s family is breaking apart, destroyed and crushed….
puts a burden on the shoulders of her mind and her heart.
And she didn’t try to start this.

Look I have problems of my own, do I look like I’m trying to feed off your pain?
I want to let you know that the more you’ve named me as this emotionally, mentally unstable lady,
You are only pointing at the only person who is speaking.. And that’s not me.

Being called a psychopath is one of those words that sinks in deep.
You see when you called me these names not only do you spill them so carelessly,
But I carefully replay the aching memories of people taunting me.
You may think that it’s harmless and your opinion is so important,
Well Canadians fought for the right to speak,
Well pardon me, but I didn’t know that the rule was entitled to bullies
Heck, pretend to forget.
Pretend we never had this,
And pretend to sweep this under this disgusting carpet, you’ve tried to make with your own two hands
Weaved carelessly, and furiously.
But for me,
Im sorry I can’t be around that.
your words are getting so toxic that your words are like a blade made of poison and fire.
Where there’s smoke, you better swing higher,
Jab that blade into my chest
And I’ll scream “LIAR” but
For me to scream is not audible for your ears to hear.
I’ve even thought “would I rather endure this subtle abuse or drink anti-freeze?”
And I wept.
I WEPT
I CONTEMPLATED DRINKING ANTI FREEZE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW HORRIBLE THAT IS?

What an unstable girl, I am
Emotionally and mentally
Why are you with her
When there’s so many others out here?
You see her weeping in front of the world,
Why choose her when you are throwing your life to the wolves…
I’m here to prove I’m still alive,
And though these cruel words are so true, and it can make one think of the haunting memories I’ve faced in my past.
Or maybe it’s a hidden thing where you weren’t accepted, and the wounds still ache. And re-open and spill gangrene all over this place……….
I hope you find the healing that you constantly chase after, but I swear
This world won’t heal that severely broken heart,
There is something only supernatural powers can do.

I’m crying here, vulnerably here..
Lifting my hands out like this
Praying God I don’t care what happens, but help this heal those who feel the same pain as I do.

I’d rather be real, than pretend to enjoy being wounded.
Our world does enough pretending, and that’s where the it’s ending.
I don’t want to live all together, because I know that’s not the truth.
So many people are breaking, I can hear all these heart crashing…

I may be this girl who is not like the others, but I don’t mind it.
Maybe my joy deep inside makes you suspicious inside
And unfortunately this jealousy has become so poisonous that I can no longer survive another day longer in your sight
Only when truth is real, and real is raw.

Your pain and your words may have destroyed me further, but The Lord meant it for me to share this story.
And if some don’t like their character in this story, unfortunately they should’ve played their role properly.

It’s a story to share to people who face a broken past,
My past is open for you to take it or leave it.
But please before you take this information,
I spoke with my whole heart, and I know that I hate getting older.

But the more I get older, the less I get bitter.
The less I get bitter,
The more I get better.

Healing is real. Give me the scissors and I’ll cut down these thorns that entangle this stone home, that homes my heart.