“Code Red.” (Poem) 

You don’t know what you are doing to me.

Every word you say are sticks and bricks they are killing me. You say “ you’re fine…” and you walk the other way.

Red the color of my blood as I pulled the trigger that day. 


“I Hate..” (Poem) 

I hate the way you smile because it makes my heart race. 

I hate when people say you’re name because I can’t help to smile and look the other way. 

I hate when you try to make me smile… because I’m afraid that if i climb the tree of life you won’t be there to catch me when i began to fall. 

I hate that I feel like I need you, to keep climbing

I hate how easy it is for you to just walk away. 

I hate how I don’t hate you, but I love you, but I’m too afraid to say. 

I Am Slient (Poem) 

With you, I bite my tongue with my mouth sewn shut. I am silent, but yet you hear every word that “i” speak.

You see, that is not me 

society took my words away from me so I could no longer speak. Yes I am silent, but that doesn’t mean I’m done fighting.

“I Am The Dragon.” ( Poem) 

I watch the world pass me by.. waiting for my happy ever after to arrive and then I finally understood why my “happy ever after” never could.  

I was the dragon, “the monster” the one who watches over the princess while she awaits to be the queen and have the happily ever after of her dreams. I am the dragon, the ugly yet beautiful beast.

Texts Tears. 

If you get a text message on your phone don’t ignore them EVER if you can’t talk just tell them DON’T just not answer because for people like me with anxiety are  beginning to think of every possibility of why you aren’t you answering them. 

I am trying so hard on to pick up my phone and text you… “ he doesn’t want to talk to you” says my anxiety, so I texted you anyways, then I see READ… 1, 2, 3 minuets go no answer. “ I told you, you’re just making it worse.” I text you again an hour later, thinking he was just busy he can text me now… I see READ and 1, 2, 3, no answer so I stuck with my pal anxiety. 

“Scars” (Poem) 

I need to get better, I have to get better, I have to be perfect. I need to succeed or I will be nothing, but the scars on my skin reminding me that I didn’t win, that I didn’t succeed, you scream. 

But when I look at you this is what I think… You don’t need to get better, You don’t HAVE to either, You are perfect, don’t you see.. Your scars that you despise are like snow flakes in the winter time none are the same, they are beautiful and you should not be ashamed. Just so you know you don’t have you win to be great you perfect in your own way.