"So many people have told me I need to open up,
but not a single person understands that every time I pry apart my rib cage,
releasing all the butterflies that have been hiding there for years.
People are too busy swatting them away,
To realize what I had done for them."
There once was a girl who was happy.. then she grew up.
"When your son comes home with his fists clenched and his eyes swollen shut from crying, take notice. Listen to his feet shuffle up the stairs like dead weights that he can't lift. Be aware when he slouches, no matterhow many times you tell him to sit up straight. Listen as no sounds come from the bathroom, even after hours of him being in the shower. Pay attention to him watching TV late into the night or spending too much time on his phone because he can't sleep. Do not ignore the dark circles under his eyes and yell at him to go to be earlier. Do not be oblivious if his grades start slipping. Do not ignore the empty look inside of his eyes, like two bottomless pits that will never be filled again. When he falls out of his usual habits and becomes too tired to do the things he loves the most in this world, take notice. Do not become angry with him or call him selfish and unloving when he shuts you out. Please, do not be like your parent. Do not make him lock the door behind him." -Be the parent yours never was.
"She is not beautiful because she is art. She is not art. You can't touch art. It sits in a gallery and is admired for a while, from a distance before people move on to the next piece, the next exhibit, the next gallery. She is not art, because she is too much, too real and too alive. She deserves more than a fleeting glance, a cursive look or a critical gaze. She deserves more than to be put in a private collector's gallery, secreted away from a single person's gaze. She deserves to be loved and held and kissed and enjoyed. No, she is not art. She is better. She is beautiful because she is emotionally, heartbreakingly, achingly human. And she deserves to be loved for that more than anything in this world." -Nikita Gill
“When you don't cover up the world with words and labels, a sense of the miraculous returns to your life that was lost a long time ago when humanity, instead of using thought, became possessed by thought.” -Eckhart Tolle
The Thing About Writing You’ll find my life, Inside a book that cannot whisper. If there’s one thing I’d say, It would be with my pen upon the paper. The one thing I’d write, Haunts me during the night. While darkness is eating you, Light will be leaving you. Your sorrow laid out on the page, Writing things that you could never say. Files are unorganized inside your own brain, What a mess is this pain. A writer writes to keep sane, For the files are sorted as ink starts to stain. Is there any other possible way? The pain will lurk, the pain will stay. But writing will always keep it at bay. By Cheyenne Nicole Carey (BluRoseHeart)
Her Suicide Her skin was torn, That simple relief flew by so fast. Her eyes were worn, She knew she would never last. It’s time to mourn, The sweetness of her past. She never asked to be born, Never asked the pain to be so vast. Yet they had sworn, Promising it would pass. The lies she was told, Cost her a knife. Wasn’t near old, When she took her own life. By Cheyenne Nicole Carey.