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Victoria Newman Feb 2011
Dearest Ana,
You’re in my head.
Dearest Ana,
And people said
This won’t end well.
Dearest Ana,
You always yell
I’m not good enough.
Dearest Ana,
But it’s too tough
Now it’s hard.
Dearest Ana,
I use shards
Glass metal and others alike.
Dearest Ana,
They cut and stab and slice
It’s your fault,
Dearest Ana,
That I want to halt
Give me courage,
Dearest Ana,
To turn my last page.
Victoria Newman Feb 2011
Leaning left and right,
Another day spent in bed.
My clothes hang loose yet are too tight.
I can’t unread things that I have read,
Nor can I unsee pictures of them,
Protruding, piercing and sharp,
Thinking of and wishing over again
Is it worth it? A change of heart,
A change of everything,
My body, my mind and my emotions,
Just so my clothes don’t cling,
Some just laugh at the notion,
They can’t see it inside
My head, my complexity,
I want to wither, I want to hide.
They think it’s vain but it’s my extremity.

All I want is to smile at my reflection
I want to be the proof of my declaration
I will try, persevere and strive
But is it worth it when I’m not alive?
I know I won’t stop, I know this is my end,
This is obsession, not vanities latest trend.

All I want… is not to want.
Victoria Newman Feb 2011
I'm probably not your favourite person,
I’m always upset, angry or down.
But I promise I’ll always love you,
Even when I’m not around.
You’ve done what nearly everyone can’t do,
the simple things that mean the most.
A smile. Meaningful and because of you.
You can find me when I feel lost.

I’m sorry that I can’t be happy,
With myself, my life and everything else.
So you should learn that if you’re alone or down,
You shouldn’t be anyone but yourself.

I love you, you and only you,
I love what you’ve done for me,
And everything you’ll ever do.
Victoria Newman Feb 2011
I know I won’t be here
After the next few years.
I know I’ll be gone
As I know right from wrong.
This life we live,
None of it I can give,
For whether it be in decades or now,
I will end this somehow.
Nothing is real, neither am I,
It’s in my mind, I try
To make sense of it all.
I can’t, it falls,
My faith, it tumbles,
My sanity, it crumbles.
In the corner I rock and cry,
But you can’t say I didn’t try…
Victoria Newman Feb 2011
My skin it slices,
With pain comes pleasure.
It’s me, my crisis
It hurts too much to measure.
I know I shouldn’t,
But what’s to stop me?
I need to try but I couldn’t,
Who else am I supposed to be?
I scar on the outside,
I scab and bleed and cry,
But it’s the thing on the inside,
The numbness is there so I can’t try.
To help myself.
To help them.
I’m not myself,
But only for him.
Victoria Newman Jan 2011
Pick up a crumb
And stare at a slice
I can’t help but think
These can make you feel nice.

I’m forced to succumb
And it stings like ice
I dread to think
That this is my life.

Even just a thought
Of what it could do
It makes me feel guilty
And full of disgust too.

This can end in distraught
And everything it can do
Seemingly is only to be
Thin for everyone
Thin for you.

In fact it’s a habit
Now it’s my daily routine
Now I want to hide it away
Nowhere to be seen.

I want it rid of
I want it gone
Even if it kills me
But if I die
I’ll be done.
Victoria Newman Dec 2010
I saw her
Across the room,
Shades of grey
To flowers bloom.
The Rose: beautiful
Both in substance and in sight,
Just as so as she looks alight.
Her blonde curls,
They sit aside her heart
Glad to be a part.
I smiled as I saw her,
She did the same, the girl, Laura.
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