It's difficult to sleep when I have the same nightmare everynight.
It's difficult to be awake when that nightmare is my reality.

Everynight I remember my past. Everytime I was beaten and left in the corner to pick myself up. Everytime I was hurting and I had to brush my self off. I was defensless. Every time I was touched by the man that were supposed to be role models.

My heart aches knowing that I was always alone. When I watched my parents argue, or my brother beaten. My mother beaten. I was cornered and crying. And I was left to clean the blood, to call the cops. No one asked me if I was okay. No one offered a hug.

I still remember that stuff. I still remember being tackled and hit. With blood running down my face. I didn't feel the pain of the punch. My heat was crying to much. I trusted them. I depended on them. I still do. They wernt there when my brother was ripped out of my life. All the nights that I've cried myself to sleep, are meaningless to them.

I reached out. I cried for help. But they were to sad to see my tears. Worked to much to see me bleed. I was alone. And I tried to help them. But I just got yelled at. Just got hurt. Kicked when I was down.

They said sorry. They would change. But I stopped trusting them. I stopped trusting people. Because what they di didn't know was I was beaten at school too. Tortured by my peers. The teachers didn't care. They said to **** it up. I had to anyway. When I tried to tell them about school they would say they were to busy. They were always busy. When they wernt they dumped me at my grandparents.

They were no better. They spat in my face and made sure I realized I'm worthless. They drilled it into my head.

Here I am 14. Straight A's, college courses and honor role every year, and I'm still not enough. I have pushed my self and I'm hurting. When I wake up screaming, I'm not heard. When I walk out crying, I'm not seen. They promised, and they lied. I'm still abandoned. I'm still alone.

I learned to stop leaving myself vulnerable. I listen to my music, alone, I'm the dark. Where no one could see me anyway. Where no one could hear me anyway. I tell myself that i dont need them. Now that something seems "wrong" with me they worry. I have two counsalers a therapist, and a phycoligist. But I don't need them. They can't fix my problems. What's the point.

I don't know how to be happy. I never had a reason to be. I try to pretend so people don't try to help. I let so many people try and they all have up on me. I don't want to be hurt again. I stopped sharing. I hold it in. I can say I'm okay with tears falling, and they would all believe it.

***. I'm only 14 and already I have to face it. Thats all they care about. Grown men harrassing teens. So many oppertunities that I am never going to take.

It hurts. It hurts to think a body is all that's seen of a girl. It hurts to think my ******* are the only good part about me.

When will it stop. When will this ever be done. I'm tired of deleting social media because strangers are perverts. I'm just done. And so are my friends. I am not the only one dealing with this. So I have to be there for my friends too.

I'm not appreciated for who I am. The first message I usually get is " nice ****" how dare they. How dare they be so crude and assinine. I have done nothing for that. I don't even reveal my body. And they have the audacity to approach me with such disrespect.

I'm done. I'm done with all of this.

My eyes burn from crying
My head achs from trying
My heart is slowly dying
I'm tired of lying

I'm fine is what my mouth said.
I'm tired is what my eyes said.
That's good is what you said.

Why can't you see
That my eyes plee.
Alone is all I'll ever be.
No really cares about me.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of silence engolfs me as I run deeper into my thoughts.

Night falls. The stars rise. The moon glows and I sit still thinking. Thinking of mistakes I made. How can I tell anybody. How will I explain.

I don't sleep anymore. Nightmares controll my dreams. Nightmares are nicer than my thoughts though.

My mind is a deadly labrynth. One wrong turn and it can break your heart. One wrong step and you fall in the endless abyss of fear.

Sadness ocupates my mind. But that is the least of my worries. Its the secrets I hold that scares me. The ones I cannot tell.

The one that will bury me alive.

The sky, it holds the sun.
The sun, it wears a smile.
The smile, it spills the happiness. Happiness that I do not have.

So you see, the sky has betrayed me as my skin has, and along with it the perish of my soul.

My spirit had fallen when I was betrayed by friends. When I relized I was on my own.

The pain that creeps around in my heart is due to all the lies said, all the pictures leaked, and the friends that have turned their back because of rumors.

Those I thought I could trust broke it in an instant. That instant when no meant yes. That moment when my world flipped.

Close family that I relied on showed me that we will become nothing. No one ever has. Not here.

Boys taught me how to be careful. How to be cautiouse. I learn from my mistakes right? What if it wasn't my mistake. Of course it was though. I trusted people. I let them in. That is a mistake I will never make again.

My heart. It beats. But it doesn't have a reason too. It has too many reasons to stop. And maybe it should. Maybe my breathing should. And my pulse. Maybe my whole life.

But I turn back and relize that is not an option. Because no one will let me go.

Allison Kimmey had said that Nobody is fat. We all have it. Some just a bit more than others.

But me. I have too much. Im tired of looking in the mirror trying to convince myself that I am beautiful. How can I just stand there and lie to myself while I'm terrified of my reflection.

Pictures. Doesn't everybody have some. My pictures are aweful. They deserve to be thrown in the firey pitts of dispair.
Dispair. I have so much. It fills my body to the brim and flows out by my feet. Filling the room slowly as I drown in my own saddness.

Self esteem. Everybody has it. Except me. My self esteem has plumitted to its grave so long ago. When those pretty girls called me ugly. When that cool boy called me fat. Everytime I had to look at the size tag on my shirt and it read extralarge. Because I'm just and extralarge girl arnt I.

And just because I have accepted I'm fat doesnt mean it still doeasnt hurt. Just as a man who has accepted he will die still feels that cold running through his veins as if frost were replacing the blood that was spilling out on the pavement.

Every heavy step I make gives a thud sound reminding me of my wieght. Reminding me of the truth.

Hearts. Mine is sick. My heart bears too much. Now let's forget about the heart conditions it holds for a second. And look a bit deeper. Past the scars it holds from judgment too. Past the open wounds from everytime I've lied to myself. Everytime my friends lied to me. Let's go into the deepest darkest place in my heart. The core. Where it's the pride there. You know. The only thing keeping my heart beating. The pride in myself. Though very little, I still have just a bit left.

It tells me to cut. Because only the weak give up. Only the weak die. And I am not weak. I am fat, I am ugly, I am hurt. But I am not weak. Therefore I live. Maybe not the way people want me to. Maybe the scars on my leg and wrist are as ugly as me. But that's okay. Because I'm still alive.

The dispair I'm drowning in is still there, but I found an air bubble of hope. And it won't last me long. I know that. But I have the hope now. Just because of my pride telling me I am not weak. And that is why I live.

But then, the deppression that I thought I had deafeted saw me. And it said that it was never gone. It was always there. And it reminded me that I don't know how to be happy. I've been this way my whole life. It tells me that I don't know how to smile on my own. I fake a smile whenever I know I'm supposed to be happy. When I'm supposed to laugh. I hide behind the mask I made. Because I am afraid. I don't know how to smile. How to laugh. I have to fake it all and it kills me on the inside.

What is happiness. I wouldn't know. Because I am taking my last breath before I'm lost in my dispaire again. The hope is gone and my pride is crushed. What is left to keep my heart beating now?

Lies. The lies I tell myself everytime I have to look at that disgusting thing in the mirror. This is my lie.

"No one is fat. They just have fat. Some more than others."

This is how I'm dead. All emotion drained once again. It floated away as I sank deeper into my dispaire.