there once was a girl who sat upon a swing;
this girl was broken, all she could do was sing.
she sang a song filled with sorrow, hopelessness, and pain.
she sang so beautifully, the stars called out her name.
her singing was perpetual, just as a star shines.
if you sit on a swing, you can still hear echoes of melancholic chimes.
her death was tragic, that of a star;
she fell from her swing and was left with thousands of scars.
the pain was enough to rip her apart,
so the broken girl took her last depart.
along with her, she took the stars from the sky;
and created the moon as her final good-bye.

I can't hear music anymore
the sound, it goes right through me
I can't hear words anymore
only letters with false meaning
I can't look at myself anymore
i'm scared i won't recognize the reflection
i can't speak anymore
i don't quite know where i went

oh stranger, tell me,
which is scarier?
to think of
everything
all at once
or to think of
nothing
all at once
for hours on end?

oh, there is something i can do
I stare
into an infinite chasm,
a bottomless pit,
a sea of vacant daydreams, and think,
if only i had a new pair of eyes
maybe, just maybe
this cloud of black and white would float away
but it's not that simple
perhaps i'm colorblind,
my world is so discolored.

no, i must be haunted
nothing stares back,
no prospect of anything.
i can't focus
i can't breathe
i can't find shelter
so tell me,
what am i searching for?
my world is not only colorless,
it's chaotic,
it's messy,
like the lines of my
poems

Lost within the fear.
One too many times now.
I can feel my heart slowly,
breaking into a million shattered dreams.
In between irratic palpitations and bursts of nervous energy.
Of course.

I think my soul is ascending to its purest form.
It's both terrifying and beautiful.
Almost like I'm dying and living simultaneously.

Hi, my name is Jacob & Imma wrist cutter.
Once a cutter, always a cutter.
Addiction, this is kind of like
A.A
but
get rid of the first
A
and replace it with a W.C
and there you have it.
W.C.A.

Our mission is to get all
the active cutters
to cut it out.
Cut, slice, and skin
bad ****
not your body.
It's beautiful without the scars.
& You
DESERVE
to die in a better way.


No one should leave the earth,
passed out,
blue,
cut up
burnt up
dried out
thrown out.
Passed out ,
drowning in a pool of your own blood
is not a glorious end
to a magnificent person.
Cut out cutting.
The Love Cult has
plenty
of band-aids
if you ever wanted to come visit.
Stay a while.
You'll <3 The Love Cult.

The pressure building in my chest,
Pain that I cant put to rest.
I want to scream this isn’t fair,
I scratch my arm, the skin wont tear.
The pressure grows; I'm gunna burst...
Unless I can release it first.
I stumble for the bathroom door,
I trip, and crumple to the floor.
I look up, through the haze of tears,
I see my target, and worst of fears.
But I reach and grab it nonetheless,
A razor, nice and clean and fresh.
The razors cheap, so blades break lose.
A sharpened blade for me to use.
My skin that at first wouldn’t break,
Is left torn and bleeding in its wake.
The pressure ebbs out through my vain,
Until the cuts rid me of my pain.
Some turn to drugs, and others drink,
But I can clean my medicine in the sink,
So I can use it next I need,
To ease the pain, that need to bleed.
Few others truly understand,
And many just cant comprehend.
No, I'm not proud, but I won’t stop.
Until my spirits cease to drop.
So please don’t judge, and please don’t hate,
Unless you can make it go away.
That’s all I want,
That’s all I crave,
Is to rid myself,
And start a new day.