Author: Britni.T

School is very stressful. I’m up to my neck in homework. Every class is full of things that we have to do. I frantically write everything down that needs to be done. I try not to think about it, but it is always in the back of my mind. During the’s times I am constantly tired and stressed. I try to relax but the thought just comes back.

Seeing them stand together
at the altar that defines love.
It was one of the most beautiful things.
Kind of like having a child.
Or the evil beauty of slanted truth.
I was 23 1/4 inches tall.
12 pounds heavy.
Look at me now,
wanted by friends, but not by my own parents..
Look at me now.
Searching for the slanted truth,
which is the beauty and horror that Love is.
I came into this world,
fat and bawling.
they want nothing to do with me.
Look at me now..
pain in my chest,
Anxiety
Depression
Jealousy?
Envy?
They want nothing to do with me,
so I shall grow alone.
Like a silhouette growing bolder,
and it’s edges defining.
Sharpening.

The problem about being lonely..
is you’re left with only you and your thoughts.
Thinking can be one of the most harmful things,
thinking about pain will cause more pain,
it’s like rain.
It starts as a light shower
and grows exponentially to a hurricane.
You can’t control weather,
but you can control these thoughts.
Don’t cause yourself a hurricane when it only has to be a light shower.

Fall is here,
it’s spring elsewhere.
Also summer,
and winter.
All it takes is a little perspective.
Think more than just you, and around you.
There’s more than just you, and whats around you.
You’re just one of a few billion.
Don’t struggle on the past, look forward.
It’s fall now but it’ll be spring later,
as it’s spring somewhere changing to summer later.
Have a little perspective.

Nothing makes you feel like shit more than the cries of the woman you love, her uneven breaths, sporadic sniffling, the incoherent words she tries to bring to life but don’t crawl past her lips. All come together in a swirling shit storm of torn feelings and confusion. As a former writer I have a weakness for a good love story. Guy meets girl, she saves him from himself, fade to black. As a guy who loves a girl I see it’s not that simple. Life gets messy, the lines blur as darkness takes over everything it once held and the man being truly tormented can not escape the sins of his past.

Born in a lab,
Watched and noted.
The start of my life.
The start of my lie.

Sixteen years later,
I write on this paper –

“Today is the day,
The day I am set free.
Blurred no more,
My vision before”

The trees sway,
Ruffling in the wind.
And I think of the vast land,
The beautiful mother – a friend.
She calls my name,
Daring me to explore.
It’s time to answer her call,
Time to remain idle no more

At 5:00 AM, like everyday I heard “PING” as my phone notified me of the “five things you need to know” subscription I have with a national news channel application. I couldn’t believe what I saw. As I was reading, I just prayed that this would be a bad dream and I would wake up to something better. In big, bold letters the top news of the day read “Sophia Rodriguez, 17, was found dead, buried in a foot of snow on the sidewalk in Chicago”. I knew her. We met in middle school and quickly became friends as both of us had just immigrated to America and were trying to adapt to the new environment. The news reporter described her death as suicide by consuming cyanide. But I knew it was a murder. I knew she died of pressure, both parental and peer. Pressure to choose a certain career, pressure to maintain good grades, pressure to look good, pressure to blend in. I just have one regret I should have responded to her text message last night where she cried her heart out.

Tearfully, I gather all my things and set everything in the right place. Who would’ve thought that this would be the end. “It failed,” they said. “Your body won’t take it anymore.” I never believed the day would come this soon. I believed I was stronger; I was wrong.
I fill the tub as high as I could, listening to the warm water pour in like a waterfall. I stand exposed to the air, crippled and withered, and I just stare at the water. Just do it now, I whisper. You’re gonna leave soon anyway. I take a step, then bow down into sobs as the weakness consumed me.
It’s hard for someone to fathom that they’re going away forever. Where will I go? What will happen after I’m gone? Will all my memories disappear? Will anyone remember me? What will I become?
I hear soft music downstairs. A quiet melody. I follow the music to see my mother in a black dress and flowers placed on the couch. She embraces me tightly.
This is my final goodbye.

Help Me!
Here I lay
In the space where I’ll wither
I cry, I plea
No one comes hither

Help me!
My bones are shattered
My cells are at war
My temperature is increasing
My organs are tattered

Help me!
There’s a cancer in me
One that can’t be removed
It’s grown worse as I’ve grown
Nothing has improved

Help me!
My blood has been poisoned
The cancer is consuming what’s left
My immune system has weakened
My cells won’t fix anything
They won’t replenish what’s been hurt

So here I lay
Slowly dying
Soon I’ll be gone
Then they’ll be crying
But until then
I suffer.