Heartbreak, depression, anger and all that good stuff

DISGUSTED
enchanted
ASHAMED
proud
You CAN'T do it
i know you can
DUMB
bright
Worthless
helpful
Your ALWAYS IN THE WAY
your always on my mind
IRRESPONSIBLE
trustworthy
FOOLISH
sensible
I HATE you
i love you
FAILURE
fulfilling
INCOMPETENT
adept
You DISAPPOINT me
you amaze me
LAZY
helpful
WEIRDO
intersting
DON'T talk to me
spend time with me
INFERIOR
leader
UGLY
beautiful
NEVER with you
always with you
RIDICULOUS
rational
USELESS
helpful
You’re just  a fu@%king JOKE
you are awesome
RETARDED
special
STUPID
brilliant
You are PATHETIC
you are amazing
FAT
curvy
IDIOT
intellectual
 
All these hurtful words
Stuck inside our brain
no matter how many more said positively
the negative stays ingrained
 
Be careful the words you use
a difference can be made
positive people treating others positively
will let the sun block the lonely shade

Demons swimming  
But i hide them well  
Put on my happy face    
As i go into the world  
Look at me    
Everything's great i tell them  
Even though  
Deep inside i know its not  
What they don't see is me  
The 3 hours it took to tell myself its okay  
You'll be fine  
They are going to be waiting for you again  
If you don't just  
OPEN THE F@#KING DOOR AND GO  
Why is it so hard    
To put on this costume of joy and happiness  
Why can't i believe what others do  
Why can't i see what other's see  
Because what they believe is what I lead them to see  
Because what they see is what I want them to believe  
It's the me i want to be deep inside  
But I just can't seem to find the way to get there  
There is no f@#king map  
No GPS hollering to turn right in a 1/2 mile  
I am at a constant fork in the road  
Taking the wrong way each time  
Hoping it is going to get lighter as I travel  
But it Never Does  
You See the two paths does not equal a 50% chance of choosing the right one  
It does not work that way with me  
For me its always 50-50-90  
If there is a 50% Chance to choose the right path  
and 50% chance to choose the wrong one  
I always have a 90% chance to choose the wrong one  
But this is what keeps me going  
That little tiny 10%  
You see there is a chance  
That someday  
Somewhere    
I will pick the right one  
My darkness will fade slowly to light and I can face the world feeling the way they see me  
That's what its all about right?  
that tiny chance  
is still a chance  
its what i got  
but until then i have my costume  
and a 10% chance to make it

you know what,
I've only got myself to blame
for setting my heart free,
Of all the pain it has endured,
it should be in captivity.
I risked the cracks
And took a chance,
I thought that love could mend.
Now I'm back where I started,
with a heart that has shattered
With nothing else to lend.

Hollow stand
Framed house
Brick walls  
Where we once danced
Fragrance of romance  
One final glance
It is no more  
The day you walked out the door
 
You took my time into your hands  
Failed a love that had a chance  
Although I prayed to God you stayed
You paved your path a different way
 
I stand here  
I dance alone
Within the walls we called our home
Rooms filled with the scenery  
Of love and what love should be  
I listened to soft melody
Of the promises you made to me  
And into the mist of night  
Those memories took flight.  

“A mastermind in disguised by the sins of shattered glass, luring you in by its reflections, leaving you with painful thoughts, false confidence and shame. Your wasting away as time is coming short, pretty soon all that will be left of you is the remains of your bones.”

she once lit up
like fearless skies,
then she grew up
to her own demise.
Carried burdens
of many storms,
flooded fears
that noone knows.
Ran countless times
but all she found,
Is nowhere to hide
Only one way out
Despite her screams for help
She wastes away, never good enough.
The mirror is all she has,
With tainted words and toxic love,
her voice comes forth
"say what you mean,
I will not hurt,
I’m a human being,
the mirror before you,
covers thee.
As I show myself through this mirror,
you'll never see...see the real me"
Look at her,
But a scarred reflection
and all you'll ever see.
Stale image, mixed emotion,
reminded by failures
day after day.
Satisfied, in control,
her body wastes away.
Hiding behind isolation
eyes hollow, lifeless,
Slowly headed six feet under.
It’s for the best,
lost, confused, mad.
If you never cared, why do you now?
The pain is real, she's nearly dead...
Afraid of her own skin,
her voice is but a whisper.
As her body's slowly weaken,
Her suicide?...her murder?
such obsession becomes her poison?
“But I’m the perfect version,
Of what’s on your television”
her reflection, her mask, her disguise,
Desperate for perfection.
You can’t see behind her eyes,
lost herself in flawed attraction.
So she cuts the fat away,
continued cycled of only guilt.
Releasing tears of shame,
and always misunderstood.
Will she ever get to 80 pounds?
This her blessing in disguise.
“Question is will I stop if at that point,
it’s time to try.”
Trauma, abuse, neglect, anxiety.
The times she asked for help, no one listens,
secrets hidden from her family.
The mirror is all that understands,
she promises to get better.
Doing the best she can,
her soul shines true of her nature.
Despite she can barely stand.
A journey heads to broken bones
unless she finds help and love.
One by one, everyone knows it's
too late now, it’s not enough.
Her reflection has come off distorted,
as her mind is infected, sickened.
She’s just a broken girl
living in a heartless world.
TV, news, society,
everywhere around you and me,
bullying is the sin we live in
is there any way to win?
Ashamed of her body,
everyone can see,
the people that loved her
aren’t there anymore.
It’s her ultimatum,
they don’t realize it’s not even her fault,
you don’t even know the scars on the inside.
She wants the help, she can’t stop if she tried,
her diets counting calories in weight.
She knows it’s not normal, she feels only of hate.
It's the silent of killers.
Strips you of your confidence,
preys on the helpless and weak.
Bringing doubt, shame, and fear.
Don't be fooled by its reflection,
Its a distraction of the truth.
Her silenced reflection
Now hidden with pain.
Prisoner behind this glass,
Bones buried in a grave
Will you come to the service,
Or ask of her name,
Or will you say?
“It’s that girl in skeleton bones”
Or maybe she’ll be remembered again.
Nobody knows what a person has gone through.
So, stop the judgements!  It’s wrong and you don’t have to
love her unconditional.
Bring warmth to her cold,
then tell her she's beautiful.
That use of words, what seems so little,
to a sickness can mean the absolute world.

Joanna Ryan-McDonald

The blues spoke out loud, as the very first person, to me  
Talkin' 'bout movin' on and leavin' your troubles behind  
That's what the blues should feel like, like being set free  
One day, a college educated black man, rather refined  
Met a lean loose-jointed negro vagrant, swingin' with motion  
He was a sittin' over there, between the police and the railway station  
When he first heard this gifted black musician, playing his guitar  
But, he'd been pulling a knife across the strings, how bizarre  
It was the weirdest sound, that he ever did hear.  
 
Music was being played all down the south coast  
Mainly for pleasure, but also for future profit, they'd all boast  
But people were throwing coins, at the soles of this dudes feet  
He said, it's played by all the blacks, but whiteys can't hear its tunes  
Played all night and day, making some money, just enough to be able to eat  
Some would even use a dirty ole wash bowl, along with some silver spoons  
 
I wanted to learn me, how to pick that guitar, oh yes sir re, indeed  
There was a sweet singer of the swamp lands, always high on green weed  
Passing on by here, to put down a few tracks, all 'bout da blues  
He'd never stay too long, 'cause he was wanted by the state  
Word had it, he was from a town in Texas, named Fate  
He was known as Lead Belly, who never paid his dues  
Yep, he did become that infamous, murderous minstrel  
 
You gotta take an eight bar phrase  
Then simply, make it a twelve bar phrase  
Now ya got ya selves, dat ole fashioned blues  
You'd know a lot more about the blues, by meeting the people  
Than you would, listening to it, from home or relying on the news  
Or seated around a knob on the radio dial, like most lazy towns people  
The uptight white cats from LA, didn't bother, to hear those sort of tones  
Even after sitting, right beside the famous UK band, the Rolling Stones  
 
In the meantime, mainstream USA sat up and twirled  
As they smashed through their southern racial barrier  
So everyone could be happier, they'd forget about their interior  
The British had heard it, full steam ahead, they then told the world  
Letting y'all know, who these great blues music people, really are and were  
Then, white America said, 'Well let me go see', what's making them purr  
 
When it was all done and finalised  
It was only then, that we realised  
That it was so hip hop  
For us to put the blues back on top  
We had the big bop, then the 80s pop  
Thru to ZZ Top, along with another MTV flop  
Tearing it all up, leaving behind very few clues  
Even though, they were just, as bad to the bone  
Just as the original good ole blues  
Should've always done.