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V Jan 2020
And at the beginning of the day, I still have to remind myself that it is not worth going broke to give someone a taste of fortune.
2020, the year I learn to put myself first and say "no."
For almost all of my life, I have always been a very giving person and I have never once regretted that. Though, I have felt the pain of being constantly used.
I always had this belief (and still fight it) that if I did not keep a routine of always giving people gifts, they would leave or be angry with me. Stupid, I know, but it's a struggle not always going to a store and thinking of THEM first and not yourself.
Sadly, in many cases, at the end of the day I was left with nothing and given my earnings to someone else.
Not that I don't love giving gifts, but its a bad habit I have and wanted to write about as a reminder to start thinking of myself for once because...maybe i deserve what I give to everyone else.
V Sep 2017
I love cleaning,
I need to clean.
From my hands to the walls,
Lysol, Windex, Disinfectants, Bleach.

Don't ask me why...
Don't say "But everything is already so spotless!"
Because friend, reality is one thing,
My mind is the mess.
OCD

It hurts, I am tired, but I can't stop.
V Sep 2015
She leaves scars all over herself
To forget the ones that refuse to fade.*


Stay Strong In Times Of Darkness.
I love you.
V Sep 2017
Left over from the fear and pain, now the results across and all over my arms,
Oh, how on days that are the coldest, these scars have kept me warm.

Lines and lines of everything left unsaid,
From the deepest of emotions in turmoil, to the tears that soaked my bed.
A single blade to help me speak, to help me fight with insanity,
Who is it again now, that I am trying to free?

Maybe one day I won't have so many,
So many I cannot count,
Whoever is looking back in the mirror, is not me in a single doubt.
):
Relapsed.
V Dec 2017
We all are born being vulnerable.
We all live being vulnerable.
And we all die being vulnerable.
V Jan 2019
As I was
f
a
l
l
I
n
g


a
p
a
r
t,
I came together
To the person
I had to become.
:)
V Feb 2018
One thing, depending on how you embrace it,
Can be made of madness or peace.
Personal experince in both...
I digress.
V Feb 2018
Dear you in the mirror,
I don't understand;
Why?

Sincerely,
Myself on the other side.
Struggles with BDD
V Aug 2017
When the fox hears the rabbit cry,
He comes running- but not to help.
Trust no one.
V Jun 2019
Some days,
I do nothing but remember to breathe;
And some days,
That is enough.
...
Trying to hold on.
V Jun 2018
Be a window
Or
A curtain
The choice is yours.
V Feb 2018
Shooting stars exist to remind us that not everything that falls, is broken.*

V Oct 2017
I used to love the stars,
Until I started to d i s s a p e a r with them every morning.
.
.
.
</3
V Dec 2017
There will come a day I know it,
When you'll love yourself as I love you,
And you won't view your scars as ugly,
But a tally of times you made it through.
.
.
.

I love you's.
V Jan 2018
It's funny that he was designed as the weapon;
And yet, I am the one fighting to protect him.
My hell.
V Jan 2019
I sought comfort in the arms of strangers and suddenly became a stranger to myself.
Be careful how much of yourself you give.
All my life I have prioritized others instead of myself every time.
Be it money, time, help, giving, and love.
I love humanity more than myself, and more than often...I have ignored the pain of being used or taken advantage of.
I hate admitting to myself that I need to take care of myself too, just because it feels selfish.
But after helping so many, there came a point where I looked around and asked myself, "Who am I?"

Helping others...
But I lost a lot of energy and used my years building other people instead of my own.

I really hope this doesn't sound arrogant.
Because it's literally the last thing I care to be.
V Oct 2015
All my life I've been known as "Crazed",
My life is falling a part and I feel dazed.
I cover up my face with a smile as a mask,
To cover up my pain so I won't be asked.

I've been told to try and find some help,
But with none all I can do is cry and yelp.
Day by day I feel like I am fading,
Whether or not I should keep fighting-
I am still debating.*


...
V Sep 2015
Slit my wrists?
I won't.

Smoke cigarettes?
I don't.

Run away?
I can't.

Cry all night?
I have.

Think of dying?
I do.

Face the truth?
I did.

Suicide?
-Never.*


V Jul 2019
It is so hot out,
Yet,
I feel so cold.
</3
V Aug 2015
Times an illusion,
We think it can not be controlled-but we thought wrong.
The Devils intrusion, has blinded us from the truth that-
lies in this song.
There is a link connecting us; time stands still then turns to dust.
When the truths placed in its stone, and this song is played,
Time is His to own, it shall obey.

Times an illusion,
We think it can not be controlled-but we are wrong.
The Devils intrusion, has blinded us from the truth that-
lies in this song.
Present, past, and future change, hear the prayer from all our days.
So you must never give in, what ever the cost.
If you let him win-then time is lost.

-The Book of Kakarou


An excerpt from my book "The Book of Kakarou".
V Sep 2017
The man behind the window,
Watches the religious preachers pass,
"Oh no, not again..." he worries,
"Now what will they ask?"

He hides as if they do not know,
He ignores the world outside,
He stays silent and distant,
No, he isn't home, he denies.

The sound of his door-bell can be heard throughout his whole house,
This time it's louder than usual, like a cat yeowl to a mouse.

He stays put for one moment, then two, then three,
What he least expected was a knock now,
"Oh, please just let me be".
He was a good man, but his mind was his own,
But ****** would he be, to ignore another mans right to a speech.

Religious or solicitor, neighbor, family or friend,
He just couldn't help it, a voice was a voice to appreciate in the end.

Carefully he opened, the great, white door,
And there stood a couple, with a smile so genuine, not fake for sure.
"Hello! We are preachers of God's great word,
Would you care to listen please, Sir?"


Minutes was passed and the man listened closely,
He wasn't much of a religious follower,
He didn't understand what those words or verses mean.
Still he listened, to much of his own surprise,
He felt a sense of happiness, and no, he didn't have to lie.

He lived in great misery, alone, angry and afraid of the world,
He had grown irritable and distrusting,
His mind a constant bustling.

But to have a company, despite what he had been told,
Such religous faces, were not evil or cold.
They made him feel comforted, and to his surprise a sense of hope,
For a moment he felt his hands hold on tighter, to the end of his own rope.

When finally they finished they spoke softly,
"Sir would you be intersted, in perhaps a bible study?"
For a moment he considered it, but suddnely his thoughts came back,
They came upon him so quickly, like a startled heart-attack.

"You will have to excuse me, I must be going now..."
With that he closed the door, without another sound.
The couple confused, only turned silently and left,
While the man had slumped down against the door, a sad, tragic mess.

For you see he had felt hope, happiness, and a sense of great peace,
Whether that was from two people alone or spirtuality.
But somewhere inside him, the voices screamed out loud:
"You don't deserve God or anyone..."
He was hurt and blinded in a dark black cloud.

He sat and sobbed, for he felt it was unsafe to take anything or care,
"Who am I to anything in this world?
I don't deserve anything, not even God should want me here.
I am not worth that salvation, or a knock from anyone,
Not even Christ himself should love me or my "blood".
I have no family, friends or job of any kind,
Please, just let me be preached by the only church that is my mind."
Based on a True Story~

As someone who grew up in a religious family, I soon went my own ways when I got older, I lost and to admit, abandoned my faith and found it quiet dark on my own.

I have had a lot happen, and with mental illnesses that scream at you constantly about how unworthy you are of anything, even good hearted preachers, or loved ones seem like a threat.
Many times I have closed my own doors on people, acting as if I had it all together and I didn't need anything, more so God...
Only to find myself behind that door later, praying for a sign, a voice, something at all.

Depression has killed me and made me a very isolated and cold person at times...
And like this character in the poem, he is stuck to the only thing he knows, his mind, his "church of thoughts."

I don't know where I was going with this at first, and I am not exactly sure it even came out correctly...
But it found me now, in the middle of the night, wanting to be manifested.
Interpet it as you wish. :)
And no, this is nothing against religious ones or anything negative,
In my opinion and eyes, I hold a very deep respect and appreciation for those still in touch with a belief so strongly they want to share.
And many times, these people were the only ones who have helped me when I didn't even have to ask. :)

...
I love you all,
Religious or not. ❤

:)
V Mar 2018
I have found that often, love is like a cult...
Often easy to fall into and join, yet, hard and debilitating to leave.
Just from personal experience.
V Mar 2017
I once hated the dark,
Because it was not my friend.

We never spoke, and everywhere I went, the light followed me.
Just my candlelit lantern and I.
We were friends.

One day, the light did not go on, nor could I find my matches or a spare.
As I searched, I had also lost with it my favorite of rings.

"I can help." The dark spoke.

"No, thank you." I replied, hiding my fear with bitterness.

"Please, you might hurt yourself."

"I said no!"

Going about angrily, I stumbled and cursed, turned this way and that, stumbled and hit myself into a plethora of things and ended up tripping down the stairs straight onto my bottom.

-at the bottom of the dark and cold.

I hated the dark you see, because it reminded me of the former things.
The lost things.

It reminded me of evil and sadness, of misfortune and all fears and scary things.
It reminded me of my mother who passed and my father who is gravely ill,
It reminded me of being lost without a hand,
Of pain and loneliness.
It reminded me of the nightmares I had and the face in whom caused them.

I cried.
I had never cried.
But despite all my pride, I cried for the first time.

Suddenly a voice came from the silence.
"I never was one to cause such misery, I am the dark yes, but even in the dark can there be good things.
Your mother, don't you remember the night sky you both enjoyed? The campfires and the late nights you spent with her talking and laughing? The fireflies and the warmth of the fireplace as you sat and even went to sleep looking up at your glow-in-the-dark stars?
Then in the dark, you would sit and wait for the goodnight kiss and smile given to you and wake up the next, your father there and alive still. The dark reminding you that there is a new day of light and hope.
The time where you realize that you made it passed that one night, and that you are stronger than before.
You and your friends stay up late, doing this and that. Don't you remember them?
Without me, you would have not remembered even the times you had when you weren't afraid, but brave.
Come..."

Wiping my eyes I got up and walked back up the steps, back to my room where the voice spoke again.

"Look, underneath there."

My bed stood desolate and cold.

"But I don't like it under there."

There was silence but I didn't want to hesitate no more in it.
With a large sigh I knelt down and looked underneath.

Piles of random things as well as dust, but there I had found them- a spare box of matches and my ring on top.

"Thank you."

"The next time you are afraid, remember who you are and all the smallest things. Without the bad, we cannot appreciate the good. Without the dark, we cannot appreciate the light."

That night, I slept without my latern.
I never hated or feared the dark again.
That night, I slept soundly,
The darkness a comfort.
For those that need it most. (:
V Sep 2017
My skin is like a garden, I keep digging up the dirt,
Just to see my red roses grow, and then hide them under a shirt.
I don't show my flowers to anyone, the beauty is just for me,
In other people's eyes, they are just some ugly, horrible weeds.
I don't like to dig up my garden;
But the ground will never be healed,
My roses are filled with darkness,
And nobody knows how I feel.
A hug, from and with all my heart to anyone who understands. <3
V Nov 2015
Truly brave souls plunge into the dark-simply to learn how to find a way out.
V Oct 2017
Since birth, I have been called "The Monarch."
Since birth I have been given wings,
Since birth I have been told being a caterpillar,
"Is unworthy of many things."

Now I am The Monarch,
Now I have many things,
But how I miss being the caterpillar,
And having my own wings.
Relating to Trauma.

In which case, my abusers molded me with the idea of perfection.
Seeking it has destoryed me beyond compare.

But that was my fault.
V Sep 2015
A dead man once told me to open my mind to the pretend "fore soon they become real."
He told me to open my heart to the forgotten "fore they too have an appeal."

Upon the ghostly white face of that dead man, eyes of pure gold,
His white body stood tall and lanky, the touch of dead flesh grew cold.

I opened my mind and began to see clear reality,
My heart opened wide to find those forgotten knew the truth of actuality.

I asked him why he blessed me with this knowledge, wishing me off so well,
He told me how he had not know, causing him to fall to a death more unpleasant than Hell.

That somber dead man then fled to his grave,
Just as he vanished he whispered "Be brave."

I pass on this event to tell you all,
Open your mind and heart or soon you too shall fall.*


V Apr 2018
My lungs are full of glass,
My skin is paper mache,
My eyes are withered and rusted,
Like an old forgotten machine.

My brain is lost at sea,
And it's been years without you,
But somehow, somehow,
You can still see me.
V Apr 2018
The deeper inward you go, the more you expand into infinity. Eventually, you become one with all of existence.
Late night thoughts.
V Dec 2017
Wear your scars like tattoos,
Let them remind you of the times you could've died,
But you learned to swim with the tide.
<3
V Feb 2019
I wear a broken watch on my left wrist
To convey that,
Time is not always right.
Just something random and simple
V Sep 2017
They say, "Skies the limit."

But I can't even lift my feet.
I have no motivation anymore.
V Oct 2015
Clonazepam, Lorazepam, Diazepam, Alprazolam, if you've been acquainted with benzodiazepines,
Then you will know the hassle that I hearby mean.
Names so crazy it's like they fit your mind,
Yet without them they can be so unkind.

Clonazepam, Lorazepam, Diazepam, Alprazolam,
Tiny little pills, oh how you can truly and seriously help me to heal!
Yet, you make us happy as we should be without you to feel,
Because I'd rather remember you as an old friend who was there for a while to keep me "still".

Clonazepam Lorazepam, Diazepam, Alprazolam...
I know it's hard to say goodbye,
So for now I'll just say "goodnight",
And maybe one day I'll see without you-
the true happiness of daylight.*


I hate the consistent need to feel "normal" with any medication. It such a pain when you go through deadly withdrawls too. :(
V Jan 2016
A body filled with nostalgia,
A heart filled with ache,
This is my karma,
For saying "I love you" too late.
V Mar 2018
I am afraid to let you in, not because I am afraid of you hurting me,

But because I am scared of hurting myself, by loving you a little too much.
My personal torture of both a blessing and curse with BPD. I tend to have this overwhelming love for humanity and everyone I meet. I am genuinely a clingy person who struggles to let go or even need constant reassurance...
But at times it kills me that even the love I give and show, may never mean anything.
V Apr 2018
It's sad to watch people trade their bodies in the night,

For temporary warmth in the morning.
V Oct 2015
Do you remember that young child so innocent and small?
Do you remember her laughing as she ran down our hall?
Do you remember that little girl with that big eyed smile?
Who saw happiness and sunlight in all that came?
I cannot remember her, in fact I have never seen her again.

She sits in a mirror young and small, but instead of running she's forced to crawl.
She cries and cries as she runs from the unknown,
I asked her once why she's so afraid and with a sad reply that answer was shown.

There stood a shadow, with blood on his hands,
Then to my horror I fell-I once knew this man.
Until then I realized I had lost my innocence to this game,
I was controlled by the trauma that made me forget my own name.*


Excerpt No. 8
V Feb 2019
Truth is, life is full of thunderstorms.
And we're all driving as fast as we can to escape the dark clouds overhead.
But every now and then, we pass under a bridge.
And for that split second,
There's quiet...
There's tranquility...
There's peace.
And in that brief moment, we forget the rain.
V Nov 2020
Him: "What's wrong?"
Me: "Nothing".
Him: "Please tell me..."
Me: "I am just afraid....you might leave. It haunts me and I cannot control it."
Him: "I promise I would never do that to you. I love you. "
Me: "...promise?"
Him: "Yes, I promise. "


Forgive me...
I spelled "Ex" wrong.
💔

An old entry in a journal I had years ago, figured I would post...
Simple and nothing special, rather basic honestly, but reflecting back, it hit something deep.
V May 2020
I never confessed I had a problem,
I swore I had control,
"Addiction is not in my cells",
Until sobriety scared me more,
Than these pink pills themselves.
Relapsed since February.
I was recently sexually assaulted and faced many damages to my body that I cannot cope with and see as my new reality.
I often was too consumed to realize that now, going sober, that despite the illogical rationality that those pills were the only things that did not hurt, abuse, leave, or scare me., they were doing just that.
"They made me happy, gave me a new better world, energy and made me not have to see, hear and wake up and feel what I carried everyday."

But I would rather be human, than pretending to be one anymore.
I am tired, and as I write this these voices are killing me,
but it beats these ******* being my only company.
V Aug 2020
I'm an open book in a society that can't ******* read.
I give too much, love too much, say too much, do too much...
...
I hardly know if that's more a blessing, or a curse.

Also given I also have D.I.D, I try my best to help others understand, just to feel not so alienated in life...
But often I still feel silent.
V Jan 2016
Perhaps the truly 'alien' things out there isn't other life.
Its the planets and pulsars, the nebulae and all other matter.
They are massive,  incomprehensibly distant and incomprehensibly old.
Totally indiffernt to us, they will be there long after we're all gone and have there been long before.
Just a personal thought that has been held deep within me. :)
V Dec 2018
If I cut you off
Chances are,
You handed me the scissors.
V Feb 2018
I wanted to be your home,
but you were a guest;
You departed and arrived as you pleased,
and left making a vacation out of me.
</3
V Apr 2018
I am following my heart, but it doesn't seem like it knows the directions either.
Insomnia...
V Aug 2017
Walls have ears,
Doors have eyes,
Trees have voices,
Beasts tell lies;
Beware the rain,
Beware the snow,
And beware the man you think you know.
I don't know whether my illness is a blessing or a curse...
R.I.P
V Dec 2018
I have two people living within me,
Two shadows, follow me home,
Two voices screaming inside,
I don't know which one to call my own.
V Aug 2015
There was once a fox, a fox whose name had gone unknown, but nevertheless was in truth all on its own.
With a pelt of fire and auburn, and eyes deep and serious,  it was no doubt why so many considered the fox "mysterious".
Yet, this tale is different, and I will tell you why, this fox was not like the rest, he sought to be like the wolves- twas' no lie.

He envied their beauty, their ability and strength, in fact his admiration went on to a fractured great length.
He would try to howl and change his stature- hell even his look, it was a matter of great indifference, but try as he might- no matter how long it took.

In time, after so much effort he took to the wolf, they welcomed him and never knew his story, pride and arrogance he was engulfed.
He followed and lived as one for the while he was deceived, but after all the time had past, disgust and mockery from all other animals was what he received.

It was only when the wolves outwitted him and made him a fool, that they chased him and slandered him, oh, the treatment had been cruel.
Now the fox understood why animals each held their own class and identity, when he realized then why he was meant to be.

A fox he was and would always stay, to the start of his life to the finish of his decay. Yet, he was reminded of why foxes were special, it was because they were no one else; it was stupid to compare, whether it be lion or mouse.  He saw beauty in an idol of its own, he became so mesmerized and driven, that even his heart he disowned. He saw no beauty in himself, when really all others did, that now his respect and dignity was so pitifully dead.

Though he admired the wolves and tried to seek them without end, let it be known fame and popularity is a horrid trend. So there are others greater and have more to do, but have you ever considered they may wish to be you?

Like the fox who wanted to be a wolf,  but in time fell too much in greed, be careful of the lies you choose to follow and take heed! Because not every beautiful face is as kind and free, be happy you are You and can declare "I am me."


A poem that had been in my heart for a long time, but took much time to understand it's true meaning as to why I was writing it-and how personally, it would mean to me.
I hope you find a meaning of your own as I did. <3
V Mar 2021
They say life is short.
Then why does it also seem like the longest thing ever?
"Depression notes"
Also perhaps a small vent to let out this hopelessness I have had lately.

Hang in there everyone.
🖤
War
V Sep 2019
War
Loving you was like going to war;
I never came back the same.
.
.
.
Not to be too "EdGy" here, but still in the process of healing and overcoming having left a severely abusive relationship.
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