Even though I can't help you all, I know God will.
He has been there for me when I needed Him the most.
His love will fix your broken spirit; it takes time I know.
You might be waiting a long time before He steps in and helps.
You may wander and fall, but God is there.
Reach out for Him, feel His love and warmth.
He is there I promise, He is there for everyone.
Sick, old, young, blind, deaf. it doesn't matter, He is there for you.
He loves you.

I want to be normal
I want to feel like I mean something to someone.
I don’t want to be floating around from house to house.
I'm sorry we can't get along.
I’m sorry I don’t love you anymore.
I wish things could have worked out, I tried with you.
I didn’t mean to hurt you.
Things will never be the same.

When I close my eyes at night, I see you.
I dream about you sometimes.
I love you, you are my angel.
Your wings are white with a hint of black.
You are my fallen angel.
You were once so full of life.
Always had a smile, where did it go?
I'm sorry, I know you want to be who you use to be.

Mirrors scattered along the land I see my full reflection in the mirror.
I walk further and deeper into the dark the glass starts shattering.
I no longer can see my full reflection.
I walk a different way, I’m still in the dark.
I start running, the mirrors don’t look the same anymore.
I fall down, tears come out of my eyes, I lay down on the broken glass.
I wish I could see my reflection, I want to remember how I looked.
I want to remember who I was before the dark took over.

Sometimes I feel so blind towards this world, can you be my eyes? Can you help me see?
Can you be my prince? help me fight my demons inside of me please.
Please continue being a poet though, I love when you write things for me.
Am I asking you to be too much? I’m sorry.
I can be anything you want me to be.
A poet, a girl, what do you want me to be? Tell me please.
Because being myself doesn’t ever seem to be enough.
It doesn't ever seem to be enough, because I don't like who I am.

The poem that once had a title, is now nameless.
It will be forgotten, no one will remember it now.
It no longer has an identity, it’s my fault.
I’m sorry.

The day is done, I’m tired.
I stayed up until 12, I do every night now.
I count down the hours until I can say I made it another day.
I made it another day it’s 12 o clock.
No cuts on my wrist.
I made it another day and I owe it all to you.
I love you, you have made life so bright, so special.
Even though we have not known each other long, I know I want to be with you for as long as I live.
I want to be able to snuggle with you someday.
Once I’m finally there with you, I want to whisper in your ear and say how much you truly mean to me.
Bad days and fights will come our way, we will figure it out though, I promise.
Good night, I love you.
We both made it another day.

She is being pulled and pushed around.
She is being dragged around.
She hates this world; she has no freedom.
She always dreamed of getting out of this place at 18.
Wishes in her  heart usually never came true.
Getting use to the world was a struggle.
So innocent at one time.
She is labeled as depressed, suicidal, and a self-harmer.
Liar is her new name.
Life rejected her, she really rejected the world because she is scared.

Fallen One.
Lost one.
Injured one.
Twin towers destroyed.


I’m sorry for the people who lost their life.
I’m sorry for the families.
So much damage happened that day.

My father told me where he was when he first heard what happened.
I have heard horror stories, people tell me where they were and what they were feeling that day.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry this day ever happened.
Peace was not in the air that day, hate and smoke filled the air.
Airline security became more secure.
A lot of things changed after that day happened.
But in the middle of all this happening, my cousin was born.
A new life joined the world.

Overgrown grass filled the yard and wild flowers filled the yard also.
This girl was sitting on this swing looking out into this field, she was watching the sunset.
Purple, yellow and orange filled the sky, slowly the sun was going down.
This boy was next to her; he was sitting silently watching her.
He didn’t care about the beautiful sunset or the overgrown grass.
He wasn’t paying attention to the birds singing.
He was looking at her.
After the sun was completely down and it was dark.
The boy invited the girl to sit with him in the grass.
He pointed up to the sky, he said look at the stars.
She was smiling, she looked at the boy.
They were looking at each other, silently staring at each other’s eyes.
It felt like a lifetime had passed before the boy leaned over and said something.
He said I love you, the girl started crying a bit.
Tears of joy and said to the boy, I love you too.
She started kissing him, she was really happy.
He said we will be together forever, I promise.
So they lay in the grass and watch the stars the rest of the night, not saying much. They were enjoying the night.
The girl hoped they really would be together forever, she couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else.
The girl finally fell asleep; she didn’t cry herself to sleep or wonder if she would make it through the night.
She wasn’t afraid, she felt safe with him there.
He was right, they were together forever, she was happy about that.
She was happy that she found her soul mate.

September 10th.
This date never use to be important to me.
Until 5 years ago, tomorrow is Suicide Prevention Day.
Suicide, what an interesting word.
I’m sorry to say, my dad lost his best-friend to suicide.
Suicide, took his life.
My dad still thinks about him.
My dad’s friend had a mother.
His mother is still alive; she still misses her son.
She has pictures of him everywhere.
I’m sorry to everyone who has lost someone to suicide.

I can’t **** myself because my sadness would be over.
I can’t **** myself, because I would never be able to cut myself again.
I can’t **** myself because people would think I’m a coward if I did.
My sadness would be over though; I would no longer feel.
I wouldn’t be able to cut myself anymore, I wouldn’t be able to leave more scars for my mom to see on my corpse if I killed myself.
If I killed myself, cuts wouldn’t fill my arm anymore.
If I killed myself, my parents wouldn’t be able to fight over me.
If I killed myself, my grandma wouldn’t have to worry about if I made it or not after she died.
If I killed myself, I wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone anymore, I wouldn’t be able to hurt you.
If I killed myself, I wouldn’t ever see your angry eyes and  hear your voice raising higher and higher.
If I killed myself, there would be an empty seat at the table, we never sit at.
Death sounds inviting doesn’t it?
Do I have enough courage to **** myself though?
I would never go to my first job interview.
I would never learn to drive.
I would never be able to disappoint you again.
If I killed myself, you would cry.
You would be sad; you would keep living though.
The whole world would keep going, everything would be the same. Nothing would change and no one’s world would stop if I killed myself.

She couldn’t be fixed completely; she was full of broken pieces.
Broken pieces will always be a part of her.
No matter how hard he tried and no matter how much effort he put into her, she would always remain the same.
She would smile and laugh with him.
She was very happy, but she would always be broken.

It’s in the past, it’s history.
I remember when it happened, seems so long ago.
My heart still hurts and I cry sometimes when I’m reminded of what happened.
Somehow I have kept going and I have lived.
I’m breathing and eating.
It’s in the past, I still remember though.

Is it alright if I say, I love you?
Because I really need you to know how I feel tonight before it’s too late.

I imagine myself in a meadow sitting in beautiful purple and yellow flowers.
I see a river flowing and I see the tress swaying from the wind.
I look outside my bedroom window again my beautiful meadow is gone.
This time I see, houses and kids playing in the street.
I see cars pulling out of driveways.
When will I see my beautiful meadow again and drift off into my imaginary world?

Please wake me up, tell me I’m alive.
I feel numb sometimes it’s hard to open up to people nowadays.
I need help, say something to me and then maybe I will believe in this world again.

Pretty girl, you are going to be 16 soon.
Imagine being gathered with family and celebrating your birthday, it’s hard to imagine it hasn’t happened in years.
Imagine a big birthday cake, saying Happy 16th Birthday Stephanie.
I don’t remember the last time I had a birthday cake, I don’t remember the last time I blew candles out and made a wish.
Unfortunately, this will the reality of your 16th Birthday, sitting alone in your room and feeling like cutting deep.
I will cut deep and then hide my cuts with a long sleeve shirt.
I feel like cutting today and not waiting for my birthday.

I told him I’m on day 11 of not self-harming.
He seemed like he didn’t care, I’m sorry I told you.
I thought you would be interested in knowing since you said you loved me.
He agreed with me when I said it doesn’t matter how many days I have stopped I will always be a cutter.
He said yep, he agreed.
So, if I will always be labeled as a cutter and the world will continue to see me that way, why shouldn’t I continue slicing up my arms and wrists and be what people will always see me as.
Recovery is challenging I should know, why waste all that time when I could be feeling high.
Why stop my unhealthy habit if I love it?
Why stop if you will see me as a cutter for the rest of my life any way?

Razors pain you, little cuts here and there.
You feel a sting in the shower, it hurts you knew it was going to happen, it always hurts after you cut.
But right after you feel a little relief, the high never lasts long enough.
I drag the blade across my skin again, hoping to get enough courage to press down.

It hurts to smile, I’m tired.
I want to die today, what’s new.
I’m sorry I’m not happy again mom.
I want to be your little girl again, even then I wasn’t happy though.
I try to hurt myself on the outside, to **** my demons in the inside.
I hadn't realized I would still be addicted to harming the outside of my body after 3 years.
I want everything to be ok, it never has been though and it never will be.
I have lost hope.

She called me Honey Bee, that was my nickname.
If I could hear her call me that one more time I would be happy.
If I could touch her beautiful hair one more time, I would be happy.
If I could tell her I’m sorry and say I love her, I would be happy.
If I could tell her how much she means to me, I would be happy.

I woke up this morning, the sun greeting me happily.
I rubbed my eyes and for some reason I started thinking about you.
I started thinking about you, I’m worried I can’t remember what you use to call me.
Am I forgetting finally? Is it over, will I no longer be tortured by your memory?

Kids table, I’m sitting here with the kids, again.
I hear the adults sitting in the other room chatting.
I wish I could sit with the adults, I usually do but tonight I have to sit with my two cousins.
I’m bored, I sit slowly eating my food.
Looking around, my cousin starts laughing my other cousin is making weird sounds.
I start laughing also, I can’t stop laughing.
If you are sitting at the kids table, we should give you a warning.
It is messy at this table.
You will laugh about stupid ****.
You will feel like a child again, isn’t that a nice feeling?
Warning, you will never want to go back to the adult table after sitting with the kids.
Isn’t it funny how much I wish I were at the adults table?
Why would I want to sit with them?
The adults talk about politics and war.
Depressing isn’t it?
They talk about the news and a new mass shooting.
Adults, were once kids can you believe it?
Sometimes though it is nice to go back to your roots and sit with kids.
Kids will be honest with you; kids will tell you how it is.
Kids, they will laugh and **** without apologizing.
Kids haven’t been ruined by the world yet, not yet.
Hopefully they will never be ruined by the world.
I use to be a kid, I was ruined and I had a lot of life struggles.
Reality came too fast and ruined my childhood.
Sitting at the kids table helped me though, I'm glad I sat here tonight.

If it were winter forever, I would be happy.
I would wear sweater’s and sweat pants every day.
If it were winter forever, I could hide my scars more easily.
If it were winter forever, I wouldn’t have to make excuse of why I’m wearing a long sleeve shirt or covering my arms with Band-Aids.
I have a feeling that you know I self-harm but you haven’t said anything to me.
If it were winter forever, I could make snow angels.
If it were winter forever, we could play in the snow all day long.
If it were winter forever, we could make igloos and drink hot chocolate made by your mother.
If it were winter forever, we could wear snow boots and have our skin be cold.
If it were winter forever I would be happy.

I was sitting enjoying my breakfast this morning.
My uncle, aunt and cousin and my cousin’s husband plus there two kids were there.
A full table, all eating and laughing.
We were enjoying the morning, I was even talking and listening to everyone.
One of my cousin’s kids started crying.
She is 2, she was tired or still hungry who knows really.
One of the people made a comment at the table and said **** is she on her period.
Believe me, I was shocked at this statement.
I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet.
I’m not overreacting, I think it was rude to have said that.
First off, she is too young to be having periods, even if she were older it wouldn’t matter.
So, you think if women cry, or are moody you assume were on our period.
Maybe were moody because were tired, or maybe were not having a good day.
Maybe were ******* because of the comments we have to hear about our bodies.
Am I overreacting?
Was it alright for him to say **** is she on her period?

8 days, 8 days I was living, breathing and sleeping.
8 days.
Ocho- meaning 8 in Spanish.
Acht- meaning 8 in German.
8 days since the last time I self-harmed.
8 days, isn’t that great?
I have had a few breakdowns and I have cried a lot in these 8 days.
I feel the urge to cut.
Feelings are overwhelming me.
I’m sad and happy, delusional and anxious.
I get nervous over the simplest things.
I can’t live.
Cutting, cutting was the way I dealt with things.
It was my habit, everyone has one.

She was walking up and down rows of graves.
Looking carefully at the names and when they died.
Was she looking for someone?
No she wasn’t this is one of her hobbies, to visit graves.
She is fascinated with death.

My aunt was cleaning out my grams closet and couldn’t find anything red to wear.
She was looking for a red dress, for me to wear to prom.
I guess I had no choice in the matter.
Red dress, why red?
Why did my aunt insist on me wearing red?
Why were we looking in my gram’s closet? Why weren’t they looking through my clothes?
Why were they looking at all? Isn’t is my job to pick out something?
I wanted a yellow dress, a beautiful long yellow dress.
I have a yellow dress, it’s my favorite, but I don’t want to wear it now.
I’m saving it for my funeral, I want to be buried in my yellow dress I already have.

He yelled, a little louder each time.
He was yelling my name.
He was yelling and my world came crashing down.

My mother bought me new sheets and a comforter.
I didn’t ask her to get me new sheets or a new comforter.
It’s nice, I love the color.
It's a beautiful blue comforter, it's very warm.
She said she will paint my walls a different color, my walls have been the same way for 10 years.
10 years, it has been orange and yellow walls with hand painted flowers on the wall.
I’m grateful of course, It’s nice to know she is thinking about me.
She seemed even a little excited, I guess she needs a new art project so she decides to finally paint my walls.
I hope she really does it, it seems like it will be a nice change.
Thank you mom.

I stared at myself in the mirror, I look like ****.
I didn’t sleep, nightmares took over last night.
It was horrible, I was shooting someone.
I was shooting someone I knew.
It’s very disturbing, I’m sorry if I’m not myself today.

She said hooray you ate your lunch today.
It reminded me of how you would praise a child for doing something good.
Only she said it to me, I’m almost 16.
I’m not angry that she said hooray, it was nice to hear her voice and see her smile.
I’m not upset, why would I be?
I ate my lunch, that’s a good thing.

I wanted to keep sleeping this morning.
I was thinking of things to convince myself to get out of bed.
Finally I got up, I rubbed my eyes.
The beautiful bright sun was shinning through my windows.
I love the sun, it's warm.
I checked my emails and I messaged a few people.
I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
I didn't look long, bad thoughts would start flooding my brain.
I would think I'm fat and ugly.
I made some tea, cinnamon and apple was the flavor.
My dad was already up, I said hi.
I asked if there were any eggs, he said no.
But he offered me cereal, I really was trying not to have a bad day with food.
So I ate something, nothing much but I ate.
I'm going to start my day now.

He said I’m a great poet.
Never stop writing he said, never.
He told me he loves my work, he said he loves me.
He made me feel something again.
I’m afraid to lose him, he means everything to me.
He has taught life lessons.
I’m different, I have changed people notice.
He helped me realize I’m beautiful.
I’m so much more confident.
I would of never wrote this much and pursued writing more if it weren’t for him.
I love him, I love him this is the best feeling in the world.

I’m standing on an empty stage.
I’m looking at where the audience would be sitting.
I see someone sitting watching me.
I try to see the person that is there.
I can’t make out their face.
I shout at them and ask who are you.
They don’t answer, I ask them again who are you.
Again no answer, the person begins to walk towards me.
They have a long black coat on.
This person is tall with short black hair.
He gets on stage with me still he has said nothing to me.
I think I have seen this man before, where have I seen him though.
Finally, he speaks he says I’m death, nice seeing you again Steph.
Why is he here?
Why am I seeing him again?

I thought if I cut my hair short, I would have confidence.
My grams said guys don’t like girls who have short hair.
I thought if I cut my hair I would be happy.
My mom said it was short but cute. I’m sure she really hates it.
I thought if I cut my hair I would smile more.
A friend of mine didn’t recognize me, she said your hair is so different.
I thought if I cut my hair I would want to wear makeup and be pretty.
A lady I know said it looks like I lost 50 pounds with my new hairstyle.
I thought if I cut my hair guys would like me more.
No one is use to my hair yet.
I thought I liked my hair, why shouldn’t I like it?

I use different tools to harm myself.
Wrists are my favorite place to cut.
He told me he knows I cut often.
I tried cutting my stomach it’s easier to hide the cuts.
I’m tired of wearing long sleeves in the summer to hide my cuts on my wrist.
Cut, cut, cut, cut.
Blood comes out of my wrist.
What a beautiful sight, I could stare at it forever.
I might explore and cut my thighs.
Cut, cut, cut, cut.
I need to buy new razors.
My hidden knife is still in the cabinet it’s hidden behind my shampoo bottle.  
I use the knife and then I take a razor and use that.
Razors hurt more, my wrist itches after I cut.
It stings in the shower, if it rains and I just cut it stings then too.
I wanted to stop, I have been addicted for a while now.
Someday I will cut to deep and it will be all over.
No pills.
All I have to do is hit a vein.

I’m tired of this world, it’s so hard to breath at times.
It’s hard for me to get out of bed.
It’s hard to go out and see people.
I’m tired don’t you see I want to sleep?
Leave me alone please.
If I don’t talk, no one can get mad about what I say.
If you don’t listen I won’t be heard, that’s fine no one has listened to me any way.
You are all too busy, you say I need to talk to someone I have tried.
I have tried to talk to people, nothing changes.
I don’t feel better, don’t ask if you can do anything for me, you know you can’t.
Don’t pretend, you don’t care about me.
Keep the curtains closed, the sun hurts my eyes, it’s too bright.
Darkness is my friend.
Sleeping pills have ran through my mind today, if I take enough I’m dead.
I’m tired of you, my head hurts I’m stressed.
I can’t sleep tonight, I never sleep.

Nothing will change, it will never change it will all be the same.
That’s why I want to get away.
She will never get help, I’m stupid to think she would.
I was hoping she would, I wanted things to work.
While I was waiting for things to change, I hung onto things from the past trying to remember when things were ok.
Was it ever ok?
I don’t remember it ever being ok, not once, not ever. Not even a little.
I’m tired of everything, I want everything to end.
You said talk things out maybe you won’t self-harm that way, I did try to talk to someone.
I’m numb.

This world is full of sorrow, how sad can this world get?
How sad can this world get before happiness takes over?
What has to happen before happiness is the norm and not something you occasionally see.
A sad story happens and everyone gets use to it.
People forget about how it can be.
I haven't forgotten, I haven't forgotten anything.
I don't know how much more I can take.

It was hard to breath; death was coming for me soon.
I knew I had so much left to do, but I’m out of time.
I always thought and sometimes even dreamed about death.
I have wanted to die for a while now.
I keep telling myself I’m not afraid, I’m afraid though and I want you to hold me please.
Hold me in your arms and tell me I will be alright, hold me in your arms until I fall asleep.
Never let me go please, maybe then things will be alright for you and me.

You hurt my heart, I will forever have a scar.
This scar that you have inflicted on me will never go away.
I have to many scars, I remember where each one came from.
I will never recover from you hurting me.

She’s trying to not get hit, she knows it will hurt only for a moment.
She has heard it all words hurt more.
Words haunt you, they go through your head and never let you sleep.
Her mother grabbed her hand and is trying to slap her.
She is screaming, daddy please help me.
Her dad does nothing, or maybe he does say something.
She is trying to block it all out.

Little girl I know you have had a hard life.
You say you’re sorry and you shy away from the world.
Little girl I know you were abused.
I know your birth family didn’t want you.
Little girl I know you tried to make things work with your mother.
Little girl I know you love your grandma more than yourself.
Little girl I know you were bullied in school.
Little girl you aren’t so little anymore.
You are a teenager now.
I know suicide consumed your thoughts when you turned 12.
I know the voices in your head became louder, when you didn’t have anyone to talk to.
I know knifes and razors became your friend at age 13.
I know you were still abused and you wanted to get out of your parents’ home.
I know you wanted someone to listen to you.
I know how hard your life is, because I’m you.

My scars will fade and all will be forgotten. Right?
I hope once my scars fade I don’t remember why I started self-harming.
I hope I don’t remember anything, I hope everything really will be forgotten

I have your picture, framed and hanging on the wall.
You seem happy in this picture, it’s right before things got hard for you.
I take your picture off the wall and bring it into bed with me, it feels like you’re here that way.
Sometimes I talk to you through the glass frame and touch your photographed face.
I love you, please come back to me.

I have done my best to avoid this house.
I didn’t like it here, I never have.
I was always with someone else, or sleeping somewhere else.
I haven’t been to this house in 3 months.
I really wish I hadn’t come back.
I had no choice, I had to come back.
I want to get out of here and never come back.

I smiled at you, you frowned at me.
I loved you, you hated me.
I tried to make things work, once you finally put toward effort I gave up.
You screamed, I self-harmed.
You said you hated me, I wondered if you really did.
I asked if you were ok, you said you were doing great while I was dying inside.
You say I’m fat, you told me the whole family thinks I’m fat.
You said you never lied to me, you did though, you lied.
I trusted you, you kept pushing me away. I did the same I was tired of trying to make you love me.
I cried and you never wiped away my tears.
I tried hugging you, you said you never got hugs growing up.
Affection is a good thing don’t you know that?
I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything.

Stain glass fills the room; I always loved looking at it.
Seats fill the room also; a cross is on the wall.
I felt so safe here at one time.
I always wanted to come here, this use to feel like home.