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little_writer
My love, you look so tired you are so pale so sickly looking so thin I can count your ribs why don't you and lay down? Those dark circles under your eyes have you looking less than attractive, have you looking like a starved, beat down animal. Love, just lay down and I will pull you into the safe darkness where you will sleep until you wake up screaming from your nightmares. I see you going out and talking to people, spending time away from me happy, smiling, free, but that's not allowed, you belong to me. Come home to me, come cry to me, I will hold you and love you, I will tell you everything is okay, I will show you how to be okay. You can push away everyone, scream at them, cry, punch, yell, and let the thoughts come. Let your mind take over. It will all be okay. Lay in the dark, hiding for hours. Let all of your thoughts through your wall. Let your mind tell you exactly what you are. When you can't take it anymore, come to me and I will tell you what to do. Love, don't cry, Do see the blade over there? Sharp, clean, shining? Take it into your hand, all you have to do it slide it across your skin, just one little action. Repeat Repeat Repeat Keep repeating until your hands are covered in blood, do you see how beautiful the color of your blood is? How dark and red and mysterious? My love, why do you continue to try and push yourself away? You know there is no escaping me no matter how happy you think you are, no matter where you go or who you see or what you do, I will always be there. Watching Waiting Waiting for that little bit of doubt to creep into your mind. That is always when you think of me, that is when you always come back to me. Do you really think you can run from me? Did you really think you could ever escape from me? From your thoughts? From your scars and your past and all of the mistakes you've made? You really want me to go away? Do you really think anyone else could ever love you? To leave you? To die? Fine, I'll die But here's my last bit of victory, you'll die with me.
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Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 10:34 PM UTC
A Letter From My Depression
My love, you look so tired you are so pale so sickly looking so thin I can count your ribs why don't you and lay down? Those dark circles under your eyes have you looking less than attractive, have you looking like a starved, beat down animal. Love, just lay down and I will pull you into the safe darkness where you will sleep until you wake up screaming from your nightmares. I see you going out and talking to people, spending time away from me happy, smiling, free, but that's not allowed, you belong to me. Come home to me, come cry to me, I will hold you and love you, I will tell you everything is okay, I will show you how to be okay. You can push away everyone, scream at them, cry, punch, yell, and let the thoughts come. Let your mind take over. It will all be okay. Lay in the dark, hiding for hours. Let all of your thoughts through your wall. Let your mind tell you exactly what you are. When you can't take it anymore, come to me and I will tell you what to do. Love, don't cry, Do see the blade over there? Sharp, clean, shining? Take it into your hand, all you have to do it slide it across your skin, just one little action. Repeat Repeat Repeat Keep repeating until your hands are covered in blood, do you see how beautiful the color of your blood is? How dark and red and mysterious? My love, why do you continue to try and push yourself away? You know there is no escaping me no matter how happy you think you are, no matter where you go or who you see or what you do, I will always be there. Watching Waiting Waiting for that little bit of doubt to creep into your mind. That is always when you think of me, that is when you always come back to me. Do you really think you can run from me? Did you really think you could ever escape from me? From your thoughts? From your scars and your past and all of the mistakes you've made? You really want me to go away? Do you really think anyone else could ever love you? To leave you? To die? Fine, I'll die But here's my last bit of victory, you'll die with me.
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70
As Hamilton once said, "I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory." The thoughts come often, images of the ways I could **** myself flashing in my mind. I walk by a busy road and I imagine jumping into it. I stand on top of a building, and I imagine falling off of it. I see a bottle of pills, and I wonder how many it would take to overdose My mind, constantly looking for ways out, searching for the end result of death. My body has decided to shut off all emotions. Just cold calculations. My mind has started to drift away from my body, as if I am not of myself anymore. I don't want to die, and that is my biggest problem. It seems as if my mind and my body want me dead, but I want me alive. I can't hurt anyone else, and I am too much of a coward to go into the unknowns of the next world. So I stay here, trapped in my mind, trapped in my memories, trapped with the thoughts and calculations, of death.
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Sep 1, 2019
Sep 1, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
"I Imagine Death So Much It Feels More Like A Memory"
I always thought to look to the future. What job do I want? What job can I survive off of? Who will I marry? Will I marry? Can I find a job that I can enjoy and live off of? What pet will I have? How many pets will I have? WIll I travel? What type of house will I live in? My wonderings go on and on. I became so trapped within my mind that I forgot to look where I was going. I forgot to look at what I was doing. Days passed, then weeks, then months, and years, and I still have no answer to my questions. But I do have a lot of scars and hurt. I get stuck in my mind again, this time trapped in my memories. Why did I do that? Why did I say that? Why are they gone? Will I ever see them again? Why did I hurt them? Why was I so stupid? I was trapped. Always somewhere, with someone, but never here. Never in the moment. My mind moves a million miles per hour, never slowing, never stopping, never noticing what was right in front of me. I can barely remember so many things that I should. All because I couldn't stop my mind. Lately, I've begun to realize my mortality. I've begun to ask the age-old question of, "What is the meaning of life?" "Why am I living?" I've begun to realize that I don't know how much time I have left. So why would I trap myself within my memories? Why would I trap myself withing my wonderings? I have begun to force my mind to slow down. To take it easy. To live in the moment. It helps. It really does. I now know I am loved. It is not some made-up fantasy or wondering made in my mind. I am wanted. It is not some longing deep behind my walls. I am needed. It is not some hidden guilt somewhere. I mean something to someone. I can be someone. I can make a difference. I can help. I can make it. I can do it. I can beat my mind. I can overcome my depression. But first, I need to learn to live in the moment. To not let my life pass me by. To love and to be loved. I can do this. I can make it. I can live in the moment.
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Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 8:11 AM UTC
Living In The Moment
I always thought to look to the future. What job do I want? What job can I survive off of? Who will I marry? Will I marry? Can I find a job that I can enjoy and live off of? What pet will I have? How many pets will I have? WIll I travel? What type of house will I live in? My wonderings go on and on. I became so trapped within my mind that I forgot to look where I was going. I forgot to look at what I was doing. Days passed, then weeks, then months, and years, and I still have no answer to my questions. But I do have a lot of scars and hurt. I get stuck in my mind again, this time trapped in my memories. Why did I do that? Why did I say that? Why are they gone? Will I ever see them again? Why did I hurt them? Why was I so stupid? I was trapped. Always somewhere, with someone, but never here. Never in the moment. My mind moves a million miles per hour, never slowing, never stopping, never noticing what was right in front of me. I can barely remember so many things that I should. All because I couldn't stop my mind. Lately, I've begun to realize my mortality. I've begun to ask the age-old question of, "What is the meaning of life?" "Why am I living?" I've begun to realize that I don't know how much time I have left. So why would I trap myself within my memories? Why would I trap myself withing my wonderings? I have begun to force my mind to slow down. To take it easy. To live in the moment. It helps. It really does. I now know I am loved. It is not some made-up fantasy or wondering made in my mind. I am wanted. It is not some longing deep behind my walls. I am needed. It is not some hidden guilt somewhere. I mean something to someone. I can be someone. I can make a difference. I can help. I can make it. I can do it. I can beat my mind. I can overcome my depression. But first, I need to learn to live in the moment. To not let my life pass me by. To love and to be loved. I can do this. I can make it. I can live in the moment.
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74
Love seems farther away than ever. Why do people believe in it so strongly? Everyone I've ever loved has left me and now I feel alone. My parents are fraying and soon I feel they will snap. My siblings openly tell me they hate me. My friends are almost non-existent and getting closer every day. The one that I love looks at me like I will break at any second. Maybe he's right. I feel broken inside. Like glass milliseconds before it shatters on impact. Every time that I feel I'm ready to love I get hurt and I'm too afraid to try again. Every day I see his face and I want to love him. But I can't. Because my mind is stronger than my heart, my mind says to flee from him and my heart says run to him. My mind and my heart war every day sometimes winning ground sometimes losing. But in the process, I hurt him. Because he never knows if he is allowed to love me that day. I don't know why he sticks around for me. Why he holds me and loves me softly. Why he kisses me and holds me so gently when he should be running away from me. running away from the pain that I am bound to bring. As long as I am around, he will be hurt. Over and over again. Because I am broken, and I can't be fixed. My heart is shattered. Like glass, it can never be a whole and beautiful piece again. I am broken glass, and if he gets close he will be cut. I'm sorry, but I can not love you.
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 10:52 PM UTC
Why do I Love?
Darkness like a cloud covers my mind like a blanket over a child. Thoughts slither into my head telling me, "You're not worth it" "Nobody loves you" "You're ugly" "You are stupid" "Just hurt yourself" "Drag the knife across your skin" "Take the iron and touch its hot surface" Pain fills my body. Emotional, mental, physical pain all at once. My vision clouds with red and then all I see is Black. Cold seeps through my body tiles on the bathroom floor blood pooling around my body. This is my living hell. Waiting for someone to come find me because I can't help myself and my attempt at death failed. Death watches over me like a loving mother waiting patiently to reach out its arms and scoop me into them and then take me into the great unknown.
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 10:51 PM UTC
Death
Do you ever sit among hundreds, maybe thousands, of people and yet, still feel alone? Do you ever sit with your closest friends and still feel like an outsider? As if you are just an extra, the unneeded friend. You are a nobody. But that is not such an awful thing to be, because if you are a nobody you have no obligations, no promises, no restrictions. Start from the beginning. Ask yourself Who am I? Work on yourself to make yourself exactly who you want to be. You can make yourself somebody. You just have to try. So go.
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 10:51 PM UTC
Nobody
Time unique from any other idea. Never stopping, always moving, ticking, counting down. But for what? Time has no thought, no care for anyone, or anything. Things that should stop time, and the earth itself, hold everything frozen, just for a little bit, don't stop it. Time plows on. Things that should be suspended, held in perfect clarity, and beauty, so that you can remember it for always, aren't. Time moves on. I should be able to envision my first kiss, my last kiss, moments that should last forever in my mind. But I can't, because time goes forward, and I forget. Time seems to be going faster. Ever moving. My days are running out, and quicker than I think they should. I know I'm not very old, but my youth is running out if that even makes sense. I graduate in three years and I'm on my own. The big world, mine to conquer. To make a difference in. But I realize, no matter what I do, time will move on. With, or without me. With, or without my memory. Sometimes I wonder if I really matter, or if there is any reason to go on. If time moves on and forgets, if time never looks back, then why should someone remember me? Time doesn't care. But then I remember, Time keeps ticking, and so should you. So should I. So keep moving on, keep fighting. Be the person you want to be, be the change in the world you want to see. Be remembered. Keep moving. Just like time.
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 10:51 PM UTC
Time
I am the girl that looks to the rest of the population and wonders what the hell they think they're doing. I am the girl who is small yet strong. I am the girl that never cries until someone I love is lost. I am the girl that will fight anyone or anything just to survive just to keep the ones I love safe. I am the girl who is scared to trust and scared to love. I am the girl that will love fiercely and stay loyal as long as they do the same. I am the girl who fights to appear strong even when I am broken inside. I am the girl who is now past her breaking point. I am the girl who struggles every night to keep the blades away. I am the girl who knows every possible way to **** yourself and how much pain it brings. I am the girl with fresh cuts and barely healed scars. I am the girl with burns on her arms. I am the girl who never sees light, no matter how bright others say the sun shines. I am the girl who others avoid and call a freak or a ****** I am the girl that has been pushed down so many times sometimes I wonder if I should even get back up. I am the girl who tries her hardest to reach her goal, succeed and survive. No matter what. I am the girl who has lived heaven I am the girl who has lived hell. Who am I? Well, I'll leave that to be decided. Who are you?
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 10:50 PM UTC
Who Am I?
If I could tell you What I needed to Maybe things would finally be fixed And you would be mine. But my secrets stay buried And guarded And safe. I wish I could tell you How much I love you. I wish I could describe how hard it is for me every day To see you and love you And not call you mine. I wish I could explain to you About my past About how I'm too scared to trust anyone Because I've been hurt and beat down Too many times to let someone in again. I wish that I could let myself love you Instead of being scared to be hurt In the end. I wish I could tell you Of the friends that hurt me And the boys that broke me Beyond repair. How the boys kissed me Used me and left me hurting. I wish I could make you see How the depression darkens my world And crushes me daily. How some days I can't even get out of bed With the darkness in my world. How my anxiety makes it hard To talk to people To even breathe right. I wish I could hide my burns My cuts My scars From your eyes. I wish I didn't sound so selfish And stupid as I write this poem. I'm not trying to. And I think it's time To go for good. I'll pull the trigger. I'll go. I'm sorry. I love you Goodbye
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 10:43 PM UTC
If I Could Tell You
Dear Diary, I miss him. Oh my God, do I miss him. But he pushed me away because of the things I did. I deserve it. I was so afraid to hurt him. When I explode like the grenade that I am, I didn't want to hurt him too. So I hurt him. Now he's gone and it hurts. I feel like he is physically hurting me when I hear the razor-sharp edge to his voice when he talks to me. But it's my fault. I know this all sounds like talk from someone crazy, but think about it, it makes sense. A lesser pain for him versus dealing with the empty hole that would appear in him when my clock runs out and I finally give myself over to the sweet unknown of death. -Me
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 10:43 PM UTC
Dear Diary.