BlueBrains

Tell me why you are broken, when did touch become something dirty and damned Together we can do this, please trust me, love I offer safety, just take my hand I'm sorry they hurt you colored you grey with doubt and abandoned your cries Don't worry love, tell me your fears, it will be alright Your secrets are locked away held alone in the dark instead of shared I come to you upon my knees, with outstretched hands, begging you please I am right here Together we can heal these open wounds that cause your pain and bring tears to your eyes Run into my open arms, you are not alone, love, Do not be ashamed, you can tell me why, Y

'First day of school...first day of school...' Jason kept repeating that same line over and over. Today was his first day of school. He quickly ate his breakfast, said bye to his mom, and ran to the school bus. The school bus also picks up 3rd graders so they had to make a few more stops. The bus stopped by the first house, Sky's house. Jason saw his friend Sky and waved at him. Sky smiled and quickly claimed the seat next to him. After they picked up all but one child, the driver spoke. "Today we have a new kid riding with us. I want you guys to make him feel welcome okay? He's a 3rd grader like half of you. He's new here because he just mov

The fat girl glares in envy At the one the world calls skinny And the skinny girl glares back At the one the world calls fat Fatty wants the slender neck Skinny wants the breasts Fatty wants the tiny tummy Skinny wants the rest Fatty wants the tiny waist Fatty wants to breathe Fatty wants to be the one The world would call pretty But there are secrets That fatty doesn't know Like the dreams of skinny And why she feels so low Skinny may be small But she wants to gain some weight So don't call a small girl skinny It's sometimes a very big mistake Fat girls may look to skinny And release an angry sigh But tiny girls who can

She was the girl with eyes of burnt amber. But her eyes weren't always that way. It came from hiding a truth so harsh that her beautiful eyes had turned dark. She swore she could never fall in love. He was the boy with a face shaped like a broken heart. But his face wasn't always that way either. It came from caring so much about someone that his heart was scratched in cruel, manicured fingers, mangled beyond belief. He swore he would never love again. They met in a spinal corridor. Then in a courtyard. Then in a room which had a broken window. And finally in a doorway that was too small. And she was crying. Diamond tears from burnt amber

My mom took a trip to Mexico And stopped by a church to attend mass. It was quaint, small and brightly colored, So she went inside. (She is Catholic and I am not.) She knows Spanish, is practically fluent in it. She knew, sitting in her pew, what the priest was saying About those goddamn homosexuals And their sin, And how even the flames of hell Were too good for them. That there would be no tolerance from The Heavenly Father Of their kind. I had just come out to my mom less than a month before "Yes… I like girls." My hands had been shaking and my throat was tight, Like my heart was stuck in it. For a moment I wanted not

I wear boy jeans. It's true. Only I bought them by accident. But I wear them on purpose. I wear boy jeans and I think about girls They're dark, dark blue and straight (Not the girls, the jeans) Except for where they gather at my ankles Because I'm too short Or maybe boys are too tall. I'm not straight like my jeans. Except where they gather at my ankles, I guess. Only, I don't really gather things. Not at my ankles or anywhere else. I actually lose things most of the time. So maybe I should keep my keys And my promises and my spare change In the upturned cuffs of my jeans. Because, like I said, boys are too tall. Or maybe I

"I'm fine" is a dirty lie. The truth is that I want to die. "I'm tired" is not even done. It really means "I'm tired of being no one" "I'm better" is but a curse. The truth is that I've never been worse "I'm just cold" is what I say so my sleeves can hide my scars away. "I already ate" is said with a frown. I starve to see the numbers on the scale go down. "I'm okay" is probably the worst. It really means I'm about to burst. All these things are lies to me. But you take this as the truth because what else would I be?

No, depression is not just getting sad. It's a constant sadness that melts into your bones, An indescribably heavy weight upon your shoulders, Never mind your heart and soul. It's believing so many lies (maybe because you've learned to accept them) And no longer appreciating your self-worth. Wishing you no longer existed, wishing yourself gone. Depression holds you back from your dreams And pulls you into a nightmare. It takes full control of your existence. It makes you never want to get out of bed, And when you finally do, You just want to get back in it. But you know the hardest part? Ignorant people. Just. Like. You.