The cut of a blade
A little more guilt, a little more pain – let go
Red meets skin
The things I shouldn't have said,
Things I didn't say,
The things you kept saying,
The things I'll never say,
Not to bring a smile to your tears or mine
Can't be this weak person anymore
The look in your eyes
Always there in the back of my mind
Urging me forward, keeping my legs, my mind, running
The fear in your voice
Repeating in my ear
A song on loop
The way your voice cracked when you whispered my name
Makes me run faster
My legs hitting the ground as hard as I know I hit you
The music bursting from the speakers in my room
My head on my pillow
Staring at the flowers I put on my ceiling – something pretty
The voices still there
Yours, mixing with the ones in my head; the one on my shoulder
I try to hear the lyrics
Words that I know by heart, but aren't mine
Putting words to emotions I won't admit to
The music gets louder
The voices stay
The ways I think to cope
Make you feel better
Can't take your sad eyes
Took your hand
Pulled you close
Sorry I fell asleep
Can’t escape the night
Put you in the middle
Thought that maybe I could sleep through one night
Not a chance
Pretend I understand
Life is fragile
Life is hard
Contradicting itself
I had so much to lose
Let it go
All things change
It just works this way
Writing never matters
Getting the thoughts out of my head
And on a piece of paper, a napkin, anything
The words written and glaring at back at me
Everything I never want to be voiced or seen
The match meets paper
I watch the words burn,
Burned in my mind, on loop in my ear
The paper turns to ashes, but the words will always be there
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
Good and bad come and go, but we’re all just dying.
So is it worth it to hate? To love?
Is living a prize or a punishment?
I fear is that there’s no escape – even suicide can’t ensure that the cycle will end.
Is this torture or virtue?
Is it even worth it to find out?
Does it matter? And if it doesn't?
Is this life or is this death?
Is the glass still there, because I can’t decide if it’s half empty or half full?
Will my life always symbolize a void – same as every other person on this earth?
Do I mean something or am I lifting others to the top of this metaphoric pyramid?
Will I ever find out? Would it change anything?
Is it bad to change or stay the same?
Are we living to die or dying to live?
Are we doing this wrong?
Am I thinking too much or not thinking enough?
Do I scare too easily or not enough?
Am I enough or not even close?
I fear that I will live my life dying.
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
*I wrote this soon after I had a panic attack at a party. I am a person that sometimes I can live and genuinely give no ***** about anything - myself included. But sometimes my thoughts would **** me all at once and I would have panic attacks. This is what happened and when I think of this day, I think of how scared and sad I was. I always let the love my sister showed me overshadow the fear because no, love didn't cure me, but it taught me. It showed me where to channel my value and that it's okay to show weakness to people that love you enough to be strong for you when you can't do it alone.*
1 – The act itself is embarrassing enough;
spazzing out,
rocking in place,
tears on your cheeks,
heavy, uneven breathing,
face so pale they almost call an ambulance
2 – Now they've seen you at your weakest; your lowest low
And you can't undo it, you just hope it ends soon – then you freak out more, because you still can't breathe
3 – They know now, that you actually do care. And when you try to feign indifference in the future – if you don’t die on this nasty floor tonight – they'll know it's fake
They have that power; that knowledge that they can do something to effect you
That literally leaves you shaking
4 – When you finally start to breathe again
They ask what happened and are you okay and does this happen often
you can't even talk,
because of the panic attack itself,
your effort to not mess up your breathing again,
your shock that people know that you can be shattered,
your ability to come back to reality is completely ******
and you just take in your surroundings,
counting how many people saw, not meeting their eyes
5 – When you finally come to, and realize that it's not a nightmare, it's your life, you just sit there and shake – with your head between your knees, silent tears mix with the ones from your fear of dying, your hands hug your knees, so that no one sees then tremble
6 – You try to zone out what the people are saying around you, suddenly realizing just how many people witnessed your breaking point,
but it's hard when they don't even try to be subtle
7 – When someone offers you a glass of water, you wipe your face on your knees, trying not to be totally obvious, but when you grab the cup, your hands shake so much that most of the water ends up in your lap
8 – You sip your water, choking from your dry throat, but not coughing so that they don't stare even more
9 – Every sound is at a max volume, but in a tunnel
You hear them laugh, some tsk with pity, others try to steer the conversation to something else,
out of kindness or selfishness, you'll never know, don't really care
10 – When you feel okay enough to stand, you finally look up, trying not to stare, but trying to remember all who saw
In your head, you're embarrassed, but you don’t feel your cheeks heat
Probably because you barely even have enough energy to breathe
11 – When you meet their eyes, most are filled with pity and sympathy, you look away quickly, your breathing already accelerated, moving on to the next set of eyes
12 – You come across eyes that looks taunting, paired with a knowing smirk
You square your shoulders as best you can, take a deep breath, telling yourself
*I may be weak in the anxiety- sense, but they’re weak minded in every sense*
13 – You see some with understanding, you do a double take, sure that your mind is fooling you, but sure enough, they're oozing pity, but also empathy
You stare longer, but they turn away.
Coward
14 - You see another with anger, guess I ruined their night too, quickly passing them
15 – In your head, you chaste yourself for even looking into their eyes
You knew what would be there, but you looked anyway
Isn't that what got you into this position in the first place?
16 – You head for the exit, the attention seemingly off of you
You turn the door **** and step outside, walk to the road, finally finding your car
You get behind the wheel and realize your hands are still shaking, your breathing is uneven, you still haven't spoken, and your vision isn't only clouded, it's closing in with black dots
17 – You realize you've been hold your breath, so you drag in a strained breath, and your head falls to the stewarding wheel
You don't move, but you realize that you can't drive
You shouldn't drive
18 – Your sister pops into your head first, so you call her
Your voice quivers in the phone, but she doesn't ask many questions;
Just where and an okay
19 – She finds you and puts you in her car, but you don't really remember doing that
She blasts the heat and heads home
You stay quiet, too embarrassed to even say thank you.
You hang your head and close your eyes.
20 – You get home; she holds your elbow as you walk inside because you’re wobbly
You lay on the couch, tears all dried now, but the persistent lump in your throat is still there
She brings you mint chocolate chip ice cream – your favorite
She doesn't talk as you both dig in
You finally look up at her, wanting to say thank you, but the lump won’t let you
21 – She doesn't look at you with understanding, anger, or pity, sympathy, or annoyance – nothing like the eyes before
She looks at you, same as she did the day before;
love with a hint of tiredness around the edges,
but not tiredness at you, at the god awful hour and day of the week
22 – You try to smile, but it probably looks like a seizure is happening on your mouth
She doesn't laugh at you
Just reaches over, tugs on a piece of your hair and says, "you're hair looks pretty. Wanna watch Tom & Jerry?"
23 – You breathe
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 7:22 PM UTC
I hate the way your eyes used to twinkle
When I finally looked up at you from my books
I wish I had stuck to my plan;
To pretend like I didn't care about you
I hate the way your hair was so soft
And I hate that stupid scruff,
It used to make me crumble in your hands
I hate the way your lips would quirk up
on the left side first,
Then slowly on the right
I hate that I know how your lips feel
When they were against mine
or the way that you couldn't stop smiling long enough,
to meet the demands of my own mouth
I hate that I didn't hate that at all
I hate that the way you look at me now,
It isn't at all like the way you looked at me before;
Like I meant something,
like I was something you were determined to discover
And make your own
I hate that when you look at me now,
My face pales and tears immediately spring to my eyes
I hate that I used to have butterflies at the sight of you,
Now, it’s like the butterflies are there,
But they’re dead and make me want to hurl
I hate that when you see me,
Your face,
It’s like I physically punched you
Again
I’d be lying if I said that I still didn't see the way your eyes get darker,
But it’s not like before, when they were happy
So happy
Now, they darken with sadness and pity,
I’m sure there’s disappointment mixed in there,
But you and I both know, I run as soon as I see you,
And I’ll never get to see how far the disappointment goes
Does it make your eyes flame like when you’re mad or make them dull like when you’re sad?
I hate that when you see me in the halls,
You stop
And I hate that I ruin your conversations just with my presence
I hate that you don’t look at me with anger
Because that would be easy
I hate that I have to force myself to look at you with anger
I hate that you finally listened to me
For once
You finally believed me when I said that I hated you
I hate the way that your side looks empty without me
I hate that I notice how you’re constantly looking around,
Like you used to for me,
Because you know I don’t like crowds
I hate that I like to think that you’re looking for me,
And not just looking at your surroundings
I hate how I still order extra fries because you’d eat mine
And the extras
I hate how you share that stupid smirk,
The one I thought was solely reserved for me,
And I’ll admit,
I miss how it’s not directed at me
And that I never get to hear your ******** remarks
Ones that always left my cheeks red
I hate how your voice carries when you talk,
And how it could put babies to sleep or used for phone ***
Depending on your mood
I hate that I have to force myself to walk in the opposite direction
When I hear you talking to someone else
I hate how our persistent bickering doesn't even exist anymore
I hate that my mother still asks about you
I hate how I hate myself when I see you talking to girls
Talking to her
I hate that I don’t have the right to be jealous anymore
If I ever did, for that matter
I hate that I’m writing this because I couldn't sleep
Because I kept remember when you’d chase me around your house
Because you wanted to “check my vitals and see if I had suspicious lumps”
I hate that I wrote this because it made me smile
I hate that I chopped off my long hair,
Because you always told me you loved it
I hate that I left a permanent mark on your perfect face
I hate that you know what I did at my lowest times
I hate that you still check my wrists, even from across the room
I hate that I hit you
I hate how you've moved on,
but you still look lost
I hate that I’m probably making all of this up in my head;
Imagining that you might not hate me,
Even when I see the way you look at her now
It’s not how I remember you looking at me,
But it’s different,
Because that was me and this is her
I hate that I hate her for being my replacement
Even though I was never really there to qualify as yours
I hate that I hate so much now
I used to be Switzerland
Now I’m more like Idaho
It’s known for one thing and no one really wants to be there
I get it though,
Why you hate me,
After all, I told you to
But for some reason,
I can’t make myself forget you
Because I hate you
I don’t know,
Maybe it was the way you looked, like I'd put the marks on you,
Or maybe it was the way I keep hearing your voice crack in my ear,
Why did you do this to yourself?
Maybe it was because I woke up shaking
And you were there to hold my hand,
And offer coffee at 4:30 in the morning
It was probably the way a tear rolled down your cheek
And your eyes filled with something that looked like fear and horror
I hate that I keep telling myself all these things to hate about you,
Just to keep myself from banging on your door on nights like these,
And beg for your smile to be turned in my direction,
Just once more
But I can’t do that
Because I can’t promise that my lowest point in life is over
I can’t promise that there won’t be more marks to make you cry
I can’t promise anything
I hate that you didn't get mad at me for hitting you
Repeatedly
In my sleep
I hate that you lied and said it was from your brother
I hate that I did that;
Made you do things that’s not you
Like lying
Look at me,
I’m writing this,
And it’s the biggest lie I've ever told
I keep writing though,
Trying to put reason behind me pushing you away,
And I guess the reason is that you, not only deserve better,
But you need to be with someone who knows how to love
And doesn't hate hugs
Or someone who likes movies
I can’t take it;
Your eyes not shining
I can’t take that from you,
Because that’s you, and what people love about you
Not just the way your eyes shine,
But what that means
That— that shine—lets everyone that’s seen it , know that you care
I don't have that,
My eyes have dimmed because of this ****** hand that I was dealt
And that's okay
I've accepted it, but I can't trade cards with you anymore
So I will continue to ignore you in the hallways
I will continue to tell myself to hate you
I will continue to tell my heart to stop playing dead,
because it still works around you
And I will continue to pretend like I don’t know you’re staring at me
Because you should be looking at her
She’s like you
Her eyes shine too
They shine for you
I hate myself for doing things to make you hate me too,
But I can’t love you
I know she does
Tell your her that I’m sorry,
Because she told me that in the middle of the night,
You reach for her,
But you say my name
Tell her I’m sorry
I unwillingly made her second place
Tell her, that even though I want to rip her perfect hair out,
She’s perfect for someone like you
She's perfect like you
I am not for you
And I'm sorry
The butterflies in my stomach are dead,
and I'm folding
I give up
There's no point in trying to force myself to hate you,
because I don't
I am the polar opposite of hating you
I can't keep playing,
You know my poker face,
And I can't let you see my cards ever again
Never again
I am not for you
And this card game isn't for me either
-{ksf}
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
In the middle of the night,
Picking fights with life
My hands, paralyzed
I can't unlock the door
No air coming through
My veins, closing in
Tears on my cheeks
Can't keep focus
Where's the door
and do I want to let you in
My vision, a blur
A voice in my head
Telling me I'm dead
A loud booming from somewhere
The door seems so far
I feel a wetness in my hair, on my body, everywhere
My heart, imploding
If only I could find the door
Find a light or let you in
The walls, they're closing in
No air
Your eyes, your hands, they won't go away
I'm stuck in place
Can't push you away
All I hear is a far away hammer
Eyes squeezed shut
Can't watch what happens next
My lungs, I feel them failing
From the screaming or from the bleeding
A clawing at my throat
Begging me for breath
The door isn't there
Where is the door
I can't die
My feet start kicking
There's a pain
Like electric and like a kick in the gut
No more kicking
My hands, still useless
My eyes see dots
Can't find air
Can't find the door
Your smile
Your face coming closer
Before everything goes red
Oh god I'm dying
Keep kicking
A swoosh of wind
Finally I feel the air
But I choke
Oh god he broke me
I hear over the booming
it'll be okay, you don't have to stay
And I so I stop trying
There's no light
There is nothing
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
All the times that I cried,
I thought of you
But now, I'm not crying
I can't cry anymore
You're at my feet
Begging me please
What am I supposed to do,
when the very words I whimpered, and you ignored,
come in sobs out of you?
I don't give you the privilege of being ignored
Because I've been ignored for years
No, I don't ignore you
I simply smile, but you'll see the visions in my eyes;
The visions of your future,
and my past, all because
You ignored my pleas
How could I possibly ignore
the person that's kept me up at night?
Who I can never seem to forget?
That has made a mess of my life?
That ruins every happy moment of my life?
I smile, but not like how you smiled at me
There's not enough evil in my bones
to pull off a smile that devious
I hope my smile makes you understand the extent
of what happens because you choose to
ignore teary-eyed pleas from a little girl in a tent
You don't ignore her cries
You stop
You should have stopped
Why didn't you stop
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
My therapist told me that
I should try remembering something good you did for me,
Instead of focusing on the bad
I told her nothing good ever came from what should have been good from you
She said that there must be something,
That I would think of it eventually
She suggested I make a list
Good on one side, bad on the other side
In my head, I think of how ironic that is
So here I am
At 5 in the morning
And I've been tossing and turning,
Racking my brain for your something good,
When all I can see when I close my eyes is yours,
And how alike yours are to mine
I write that down on the bad column
I’m staring at the bad,
Searching for your good
Coming up empty, not for the first time this week (the past 5 years)
I turn the page over, looking at the back bad column
Your bad filled up the front already
For a second, as I’m flipping back and forth,
Trying to make sure I didn't leave something out,
I wonder if I would make you proud
I’m temporary sidetracked by the fact that you would probably be proud
Of me,
Of the me I am now,
The one that sees a therapist
And sees your eyes when I try to sleep
Yeah, it’d probably make you jump for joy
To know that you've ****** someone else up for a change,
Instead of just getting ****** and not in the fun way
6 a.m. and I’m still thinking about that empty side
How the page isn't even and why that bothers me
I think to myself of revenge, ways that I could hurt you like you did me
I write that on the bad side too, even though it’s the bad side of me
Not just you
I’m wondering if I would have been writing this list,
Instead of sleeping, if you hadn't came into my life, my family
6:15 a.m. and I’m doodling in the margins
Drawing pretty flowers, watching them get droopier as I move down the margin
I start to remember the electric blue nail polish your mom gave me
When she came to pack your stuff and take you with her
That used to be my favorite nail polish
I add that to the good list
To this day, I never found that exact color
I add that to the bad
I’m sure I have a creepy smile on my face;
Taking into consideration, that the only good thing I can think of from you,
Wasn't even from you
As I get settled back into my bed,
I think of that day when the giant U-Haul stopped in our driveway,
Coming to get you for the very last time
I add that U- haul to the good list
When I feel myself finally drifting,
I finally think of an actual good thing you gave me;
The best thing you gave me,
I think of you getting in that U-Haul
And never coming back
I add that to the good side
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
When I was in kindergarten
There was a boy that pulled my hair
And took my juice boxes
I told my parents
And I’ll never forget
The way they looked at each other, knowingly
My mother smiles and says,
“Oh, he probably likes you”
Sixth Grade and I’m in math
The boy behind me
has told all of his friends,
To tell me,
That he likes me and he’d like to go “out”,
But he’s only ever ask me if I was a lesbian
I told him I didn’t know what a lesbian was
He said than I must be then
I tell my parents
And again, they shared a knowing look,
Only this time, my dad says,
“He probably doesn’t know what they are either.
He just knew you were smart and thought you would know.
Oh, he probably just likes you, don’t worry about it.”
Ninth Grade and I’m in high school
And boys who aren’t boys anymore,
Tell me I’m the prettiest girl they’ve ever seen
And they want to hang out, just the two of us
Tenth grade and I’m on my back on a couch
His hands are up my shirt
And I don’t know what they’re doing there
He says it’s okay, he’s done this before
We’ve only known each other for a few months,
But I thought that if I told him that I liked him back,
That he would stop calling me names
And pushing me around
He’s pulling at my pants
And I start to sit up
I say, “Let’s just finish the movie”
I don’t want to finish the movie, I want to go home
He sits up too and says,
“I really like you. I thought you liked me too, but I guess I was wrong.”
I remind myself that he does like me
Even though he teases me sometimes,
I know that he doesn’t really mean it,
And he always says sorry
And besides, who kisses someone who they don’t really like?
I lay back and his hands are at my pants again
Eleventh Grade and I’m a *****
Everyone hates me
Even the teachers look at me
Some with pity,
But most, with disgust
Apparently, I slept with half of the football team,
Some at the same time
I don’t deny it
What’s the point, I think,
Regardless of what I say,
That’s how and what they’ll continue to think about me
Twelfth grade and I’m the suicidal ****
When you down a bottle of sleeping pills
And chase it with a bottle of *****
People think you’re a suicidal freak
When your parents use the gps in your phone,
To find you in a sketchy hotel room,
They call for help,
Unbeknownst that they’re not really helping their daughter
They’re only prolonging another attempt
When waking up from getting your stomach pumped,
Your mother is crying and your dad is pale and shaking
They ask, “Why’d you try to leave us?”
After a few attempts to speak around the hoarseness in my voice,
I reply, groggy and unaware of who is who,
“I thought that since he was mean to me, it meant he liked me.
He said he liked me.”
This time instead of looking knowingly at each other,
My dad looks down so I won’t see
His lips quiver and the tears roll down his cheeks
And my mom tries to smile sadly, but her tears win,
And pour out of her eyes and she sobs loudly into her hands
I realize my biggest mistake of all,
When I hear my dad’s quick intake of breaths as he sobs
And when I see my mom run out of the room
The things that they don’t teach you in school
Are that when a boy pulls your hair or takes your juice boxes
Or calls you mean names, but tells you that he likes you
It may mean that he likes you,
But what they didn’t teach me to understand,
Was that
Those aren’t the boys who you should
Ever
Like back
-{ksf}
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Your blue eyes say gentlemen
Your wondering hands said *****
My lips said please
You answered with a push of your hips
And a kiss on my lips
I feel your grip leaving bruises;
Permanent scars
I should have known
A boy pleads innocence
Not enough evidence
A girl swallows a bottle of pills
You only whispered
You know you wanna
An ambulance is called
A funeral is held
Who would have thought?
Those who cast judgment,
Called her a liar and a *****
Shed so many tears
Her note only said
The bruises were permanent
How did you not see?
Is this enough evidence?
-{ksf}
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
I never realized I liked flowers until you gave me a garden
And we waited impatiently for them to bloom,
All bright and beautiful colors
I realized I hated flowers when they died
And I had to watch helplessly,
All by myself
-{ksf}
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC