why do people cut?
because they have felt so much
so many emotions
it becomes overwhelming
they begin to feel nothing
that's when cutting begins to appeal
because they are so desperate to feel something
anything other than happiness
the easiest feeling to create is pain
it is the only way to replicate what that feeling was before the silence
so why not do it right there in front of you
where you will be constantly reminded of some sort of feeling
that same type of feeling that put you there in the first place
sort of like a drug
self harm is a drug
and babe i don't feel anything
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 8:22 PM UTC
you give me this feeling in my chest sometimes
where i know that i need to cry
and my stomach is telling me i will
but no tears can come out
and so the feeling just lingers
until you say something that makes it go away
and i'm too afraid to tell you you're doing this
so i pretend to accept what you are saying
and cry myself to sleep instead
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
he practically fell into your life with no indication
you didn't even know a "him" existed until he showed up at your door
and now you think that because he's gone it's the end to it all
you think you want HIM back but what you really want is the FEELING he used to give you
but he can't give you that feeling anymore
things changed
and now you have to go FIND that feeling in somebody else
"someone like him doesn't just come along every day, you're not going to find someone who will treat you better than he will"
i guess i better start looking
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 1:37 AM UTC
I know that my writing is the most beautiful
when my pillow has soaked up my tears
when my breathing is staggered
and my throat hurts from trying to hold back
but who really cares about a beautiful poem
now i'm just depressed
and useless
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 2:03 AM UTC
I walked into a gas station
wearing high wasted shorts and converse
curious if there was restroom,
i asked the man
he stared at the collar of my low cut shirt
"Outside."
"Where?" i questioned
i lowered down to where my eyes would lock with his
carrying his gaze up with mine
he pointed behind him
eyes fixed on my chest
"thank you" i said
grabbing the key off of the counter
never once looking away
to keep his eyes in contact with my eyes
and not my *******
i turned to go out the door
a window to my right
a man on the other side
i can feel his gaze as i walk
i stop in my tracks, turning the direction of the stare
only to find
a weak smirk and an intricate scan of my body
and though i stop, the scan would continue
around the corner, i kept staring back
where i assumed the complicated angle would stop him
180 degrees
just to get a good look at my ***
what a pig
i left the key in the bathroom,
i will not go back in
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
"To be honest, I embarked on the impossible journey of trying to get through to someone numbed by depression and anxiety that aye, things can get better if you don't give up
that ship sailed about a year ago
been on it ever since"
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
I guess you could call it poetic how by the age of 12 I had no recollection of what happiness tasted like on my tongue. Some would say it was tragically beautiful.
But it was not poetic, nor was it beautiful, but it was tragic. It was so very, very sad, and that sadness is only doubled now that people see sorrow as glorious. It is not glorious. It is not strength. It is a lump of iron in your chest and stomach and it eats you from the inside, out and you have no right to think that blood stained wrists are anything other than tragic. So very, very tragic.
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
Last week if you asked me who I looked up to the most in the world, I would have told you my sister
But I saw her eyes scan her body
and watched the tears well up in her eyes as she would say
"I just hate being alone"
You don't get to pick your family
so God surrounded me with the mentally unstable
i joined the club, but it's okay
i fit in well
I told her she will not be alone forever
but her stubborn nature will not allow that
I see her pain and i watch her struggle
Mom, Dad, Mom, Dad
why does she resort to drugs i would ask?
when i should have been asking what could be better
this is a stage, this is a stage
who am i looking up to anymore?
she is who i vowed not to become
i don't like her very much anymore
every hug is accompanied by the smell of marijuana smoke
and every car ride is accompanied by that stupid boy
I am a year older now
My eyes now scan my body and i ask, "Why am i alone?"
"You're beautiful baby girl, don't let it get to your head" my mom would say
and a day later, **** you, you can go live with your father" would come out of her beautiful mouth i once admired so deeply
she is still beautiful
she is so ugly
I'm sorry Rachel I'm sorry
will you come get me?
I want to get away, too.
I admire you again
I understand your pain
what kind of a ****** up situation is this?!
WHAT DO I DO
i will not do what you did, no
i have learned a lot from you, sister
and i will appreciate you for that forever
always my role model
My sister isn't very sad anymore
I knew all along she was in a stage
so i continued to love her like i should have
She found love
and love, he is
and love her body, i do
she does
he does
How did she do this for so long
and stay so strong
with nobody there to hold her hand, like i am privileged
I will not do drugs, not very much anymore, at least
the escape is amazing
the high sends me away from the ********
so i will get away with you, sister
because i understand you now
i am 2 years older
i may be sad
i am sad
but i have you always
2,000 miles away
or 1 inch
It scares me to think another human being
can make your mind work backwards
But I can never un-know the truths of my mother's past
or un-see the scars of my sisters present
So I sat there wondering when my time will come, wondering
who will be the one to manipulate my mind to work backwards
so I hope you can understand why
sometimes I expect you to do your worst, while you continue to give me reasons to expect your best
Because, sister, you are the best
and do understand
i can see that
can you?
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 12:45 PM UTC
everything people find beautiful about me
is untrue
at least in my eyes
One boy says he wants to **** the freckles off my face
but in reality its skin damage which seems to have engulfed the human race
with these girls sitting in sun ovens
coming out smelling like a burnt person
why is it in the 5th grade boys didn't like my freckles
and now the internet is obsessed with something i hated about myself
why is it that all of my pain turns into someone's romantic story
having a good memory isn't all it's made up to be
yes i can remember most wifi passwords i've entered
every lyric to a song that i've heard more than 5 times
quotes in movies after hearing them once
secrets people told me in the 1st grade
throwing a flower into the casket of my late grandmother
yes i remember all of these pointless facts
maybe i'm good at winning arguments
but in reality i use all of this clutter
to cover up what i really want to hide
not from you
but myself
because some things we cannot forgive
no matter what we learn over time
us humans have trouble forgetting
and then there's this depression i feel every day
holding me in bed
i feel like i'm trapped in the warmth
because when i get up
all i expect is disappointment
and sadness
do you have any idea what that even feels like?
you post all of these stupid depression quotes
when in reality
i don't think you understand
because if you were REALLY depressed
you wouldn't want anyone to know you're hurting
no one could understand the hole in your chest that isn't visible
the constant sickness that shows no symptoms
and the idea that you can just "get up and get over it"
there is NOTHING romantic about considering PULLING the wheel in the direction of the water there is nothing POETIC about wondering how much pain you would feel
if you cut up the stream, not across the river
there is nothing beautiful about mental illness
and no one will understand that
unless they find the day
where they're laying in bed
and they would rather dream of flying
and casting spells on our enemies
than dream of becoming someone significant
where in reality its 3:30 pm and you've been asleep for 14 hours
but that doesn't matter does it?
because in this fake dream i feel better than my real life
so why not turn the dark world i call being asleep
(which is lighter yet than the one i walk in)
into an everlasting dream
where one does not have to wake up after 14 hours of nothing
and instead stays asleep, in that dark world that will eternally be better
than the one you have been living in
all this time
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
"his hands were like claws and I was the prey..."
struggling to break free but forced to stay
her vision had blurred with the tears of distress
she shielded her collar to try and suppress
his grasp only tightened with every endeavor
she would not be escaping for what seemed like forever
his hand had found a place that should not have been touched
a friendly invitation overtaken by lust
with all the fight in her she resisted and kicked
only to find that her arms, he'd restrict
she let out a whimper while he started the car
he parked near her street, where house was not far
weak from assault she was faced with a choice
she made an agreement in a trembling voice
"I promise you next time" he made her confirm
but the part he left out was the trust she must earn
dissatisfied by the pleasure he failed to achieve
a clutch on her neck would prevent her to leave
a painful half hour has now gone by,
she's had time to think and she knew she must lie
an agreement was made to perform another time
and she'd keep her lips sealed on this sickening crime
cleaning her face the girl stumbled inside,
there wasn't any masking the amount she had cried
her mother was working and her father not around,
she let out a sob and she dropped to the ground
she would tell no one, for she was ashamed
and her heart was too big to let the boy be blamed
black and blue would surface within the next day
but those are only colors which will soon fade away
distinguishable handprints, as clear as can be
bruises outlined in white, each finger you can see
but her lips remained sealed for far too long
for the bruises would heal as the days moved along
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 3:12 AM UTC