You love to watch people suffer from the pain you have caused them.
You love to have people try to help only to be scorched by your burns.
You love to hurt.
I guess you’re just another reason why I keep my heart with me.
Give it to no one else.
Wrap it in barb wire and never let it stray too far.
My heart is mine.
If I share it with anyone else I fear I won’t have one left to keep me alive.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
How can one person hold so much power over you?
I feel as though once you trust someone,
Once you let them in,
You have given them a piece of you.
A piece of your heart that they’ll have forever.
They can do what they please with it.
You chose to keep it close.
You chose to slowly tare at it later by layer until there’s nothing left,
Leaving me with nothing but painful memories.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 5:18 PM UTC
If I could capture happiness in box
It would go something like this,
It would smell like freshly baked cookies just coming out of the oven.
Take a sip and it would taste like a cold glass of water after a day in the thick sticky heat.
If you listen to it you would hear the most alluring song sung by the most mischievous of sirens.
Pour it out into your hand and it would feel like the kiss of sunlight through the chilly air.
But what would this box look like?
This box would look like you.
Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 6:32 PM UTC
Depression tastes like disappointment,
Anxiety smells like ****
OCD feels like Groundhog Day,
And anorexia looks like art .
You learn to ‘live’ and ‘cope’,
And you learn to fill your days,
You swallow more drinks and pop more pills and live through a medicated haze.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 7:23 PM UTC
I used to wake up every morning with the bitter taste of yesterday’s guilt still lingering in my mouth.
I used to touch my body as I looked at my lifeless reflection in that deceptive pane of glass.
I used to wish and hope and pray as I pressed my feet onto that cold glass scale that I would be another pound closer to death.
I never ate.
I did everything I could to keep myself from doing so.
Hungry?
20 sit-ups.
Stomach growling?
Get out of the house.
Faint?
Take a nap.
ATE SOMETHING!?
You fat **** go run until you *****
Why did I do this?
I don’t know.
Was it because I hated myself?
Maybe.
Was it for attention?
Maybe.
Was it just another way for me to self destruct?
Maybe.
You tell me.
But I’ll tell you one thing.
Starving yourself is not ******* worth any of it.
Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 4:47 AM UTC
Some people need to belittle others to make themselves feel a fraction bigger.
Those are the people that are truly small.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 6:57 PM UTC
The truth is,
I don't know what the hell I'm talking about.
But then again,
No one truly does.
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC
Do you ever just want it to stop?
The suffering,
The pain,
The numbness.
I do.
I want it all to end.
Sometimes I can't tell if my heart is filled with so much love or so much pain and I hate that.
I've tried you know, to die.
Many times,
Trust me it is not worth it.
I know that I don't want to die.
I just want all of the suffering to stop.
The pain,
The emptiness I feel in my chest.
But I don't know how to make it go away.
And I fear it never will.
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 7:26 AM UTC
Truth is subjective
Your mouth says I love you,
But our heart says I love your body,
I love the way you make me look ,
I love that you take me back even after I shatter your heart time and time again.
You may think you love me ,
But truth is subjective
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 7:10 AM UTC
You are to me like fire is to an insect,
You attract me and give me nothing but burns.
My judgement muted by the volume of my lonely heart.
You gave me euphoria,
For a while,
Then you gave me misery.
You took down the walls that I built and then lit my heart on fire.
You gave me absolute destruction.
You caused me absolute devastation .
Yet still I can’t help but wonder,
Was it me?
Did I let you ruin me?
Did I let you shatter my heart?
Did I give you reason?
No.
It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.
So why am I sorry?
Why am I sorry for hurting?
Why am I sorry for hating myself?
Why do I feel sorry that you hurt me like this.
Ripped out my ******* heart and tossed it to your friends to stomp all over and do what they like.
Why am I sorry for ever giving you my love when I knew you didn’t care?
And why can I not take it back,
Why do I still love you?
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 7:06 AM UTC