((This is just a dump place for my poems, old and new. Some have been posted on other sites, but I just want to catalog them all in one place.)) It's Not It’s not that no one cares. It’s just that no one puts effort behind letting you know they are there. Because when the voices start screaming in your head, is it really your fault for thinking no one will miss you? We don’t want attention. We just want a faint hope that in the sea of mental screams, there is one voice on the outside that says, “Baby, please.” We don’t want a crowd. We just want a hand on our shoulder when our own tears threaten to drown us, and we’re choking on the sobs we are trying to contain just to have a bit of silence. People call us angry and calloused and cold, and that’s because we are! No one told us it was okay to feel insignificant because there are people who “have it worse” than we do. Well we’re sorry that our sanity is hanging by a thread, that our hands shake when the alarm clock starts, that the last time we slept was the last time we dreamed and in that dream we died a horrible death. We sorry that we can no longer feel our own hearts because we let them bleeding on the sidewalk in the memory of ourselves. It’s not that no one care. It’s that no one takes that extra step to throw away the gun and knife and pills and rope, to put an arm around our shoulder and feel us shake when we fall under the weight of ourselves, to kill the demons we fight from within, to save us.