My heart is made of gold,
But my wings are made of paper,
Soft and delicate and prone to breaking.

You pop into my head,and suddenly i can see,
i can't say a thing when people ask me about myself
i don't know who i am,beacuse you moulded me.
I am here,where you left me,behind the closed doors,
it seems like i have lost my true form,
so what is my name now if i can't call myself "Yours"?

I cling to the edge of the cliff
I'm grasping

Waiting for them to take my hand
To pull me

It's funny how I got here though
I'm laughing

I reached out mine to all of them
They used me

I gave up my own weight for theirs
I'm falling

I could not let them fall instead
They left me

I loved so I could have a friend
I'm lonely

They never asked me to help them
I'm failing

To understand that I have no one to blame but myself

As the sun sinks into the horizon
As the moon blossoms in the night

As the city lights fade away
The stars of brightness shine our way

As the clouds of day constantly change
So do the stars in darkness fill the night

Just as clouds of beauty
There are stars of gods
Gods of every kind

If we could count the stars
With grains of sand

The sand would run out
Yet the stars would never end

This is not a poem. This is a series of events that has happened in the past months.

Starting with last Summer:
I ****** over 20 people in just 3 months. I was ******* anybody who gave me even a second glance. It was usually random guys on the internet, and one day one of those guys held me down in my own bed and choked me. But that didn't scare me off from doing it again. Every day I had a new person in my bed, and it felt so normal to me considering I have already slept with over 60 guys and I'm only 17. But towards august I started to want a relationship. I found a guy I liked named Brandon and I tried everything to make him like me, but soon as we had ***, he never talked to me again.
At the end of September I was finally getting a little control over myself when I met a guy named Erik. He was 18 and graduated, more accomplished than half the guys I have been with. We talked for a couple weeks and on October 3rd he asked me to be his girlfriend. I laughed so hard and was even a little angry. Why the **** would he want to date me? He knew about my tendency to self harm and he knew I was unstable. He said it was cute when I laughed, and when I finally understood that he was serious, I said yes. That night after he left, I cried for hours. I couldn't help it. All I could think was I did not deserve a nice boy like him. As the days went by, things were great. I wasn't cutting and I had somewhat stable moods. But then bad things started happening again.

In the middle of October, Brandon died in a car crash. The last time I saw him was the day he ****** me. It was raining when he drove me home and I told him to slow down, but he looked at me and said he is the safest driver I could ever meet. But I guess he was wrong because now he is dead and his car is in pieces.

When Brandon died, I felt so ******* guilty. I found out about his death like literally 5 minutes after I finished having *** with Erik. I was starting to get bad in my mind again but I didn't tell anyone.

About a week later, my ******* cat died.

Erik and I had started to argue a lot more by then and on my birthday, October 21, he gave me mono. What a ******* way to celebrate my birthday right. I was throwing up for weeks and unable to eat. This went on until early November when we got some even more ****** up news.
I was pregnant.
They said I would have been 3 or 4 months and based on the dates, the baby probably wasn't Erik's. We fought every single day. He got kicked out of the Navy and suddenly it was all my fault. He said I was selfish for keeping it. I was so excited to have the baby and be a mother, to grow the **** up and move on with my life. The second week of this month I announced that I was pregnant. And yet again, more bad things happened.
The day after I told people, I started bleeding really ******* bad. It hurt more than anything I have ever experienced. I went to the ER and they couldn't give me any direct answers, so I waited 3 days until I went to my OB/GYN. Erik and I sat in the doctors office waiting to be treated, when soon as the doctor walked in he told me I had a miscarriage. I held it together and fought back tears until we started to leave the building. I was crying so ******* hard I couldn't breath. I feel like a part of me has been taken away and I can never get that back. I feel incredibly betrayed by my own body. My heart shattered as Erik had no emotions towards the situation. All he would say is "I'm here for you." or "You can get through this." After the miscarriage, he got put back into the Navy. By the end of the day I started to realize, I am the only one who can feel the pain of this loss, and I am going to be in this constant battle with nobody but myself.
People started to think I lied about the pregnancy because I lost the baby a day after I announced it.

I was a ******* mess for all of last week. I didn't go to school or even get out of bed. I only went to school last Friday, finally starting to feel a bit better, excited to see my best and only friend. But as you probably guessed, that didn't go well as usual.

My best friend got kicked out of school and sent to the alternative one in another town. She was all I had, she was my support system. I was upset about her leaving me and it hurt pretty bad. But I made it through the day and didn't have a complete break down.

The next day, 12/13/14 , was Erik's birthday. We went to Minnesota for shopping and it was actually an overall ok day. When we got back home I checked my Facebook and my entire body froze.

I had known a guy named Ben for about a year, he was the sweetest guy I have ever met. Last winter we were both lonely and desperate to fill some type of void within ourselves. So I guess we thought if we ****** all the time then we might start to feel a little less numb. As the seasons changed and summer approached, we realized that having *** in a cemetery parking lot was far more draining that fulfilling. Ben was the kind of guy who would do anything for anyone. He has been there for me whenever I needed him, no matter the time of day. I just really wish we had stayed friends...

Because the first thing on my Facebook news feed was the announcement of his death. Ben, the guy with a heart of gold, committed suicide. I have cried every night this week. He had told me he was suicidal a few months back, I tried to help but he shut me out and we never saw each other again. I didn't go to the funeral and I regret it more than anything. I should have said good bye. I should have never stopped talking to him.

So far this week I have held it together pretty well. Until today at least. While sitting in class I got a message from my best friend. She told me she wants to die. In august she had tried to **** herself and nearly succeeded. That message just ripped me to shreds.




Everyone is giving up, and there isn't a **** thing I can do to save them.

Yesterday
I spent $45
on brand cosmetic makeup

Drove home after
debating with
myself in line,
shaky hands fumbling
with the plastic
casings enveloping
over-priced wax

Today
I woke up at 6 A.M.
applying my new
purchases with a
loving hand,
Confidence glowing
from my freshly done
face like sun beams

You and I
may have different
definitions of
a good day

The goals I set
for myself you
may scoff at,
a daily routine
for you has taken
me 4 weeks, 32
days and the writing
of this poem
to finally complete
(It would be 31 days
but I spent one extra
trying to convince
myself that I am
as worthy as
the first day
of the
month.)

Since Monday
I have accepted
the doctor’s advice,
paid my
car insurance and
my phone bill,
returned 11 missed
calls, hushed the
demons beneath
my bed so that I
could get one
good night’s sleep
(Their voices in
my head no
longer haunt
me.), remembered
to take all
of my
medicine

My dad
is proud
of me

This kind of
pride is
not the type
he flaunts
over toasts
at the bar,
he doesn’t
chime into
conversations
like, “My
daughter scored
a perfect 36 on
her ACT” with
“Did she? Well my
daughter can
finally take
all 5 pills
without
a reminder”
but
He is proud

To be so appreciative
of something so
small
is because
he remembers
the vortex
before this

The days I could
not remember
the function
of any part
of this
lifeless body,
the days I
would keep
as silent as
the intonation
of the ugliest
shade
of grey for
months; he
prayed each
weekly
phone call
from
the hospital
wasn’t
the “I’m
so sorry”
following my
suicide

These
were the
bad days

My life
was a gift
I wanted
to return

The thick
fog of darkness
settling inside
my head served
as mood lighting
for the loose
screws and
bent nails,
the crevices
of my brain
inviting each
drop of
mental illness
in to
drown me

Depression
loves me
so good

She has
this intrinsic
flaw of
locking the
spotlight
on you,
the betrayal
to parallel
your thoughts
with her
own, and
it becomes
more natural
to welcome
the abuse
than to find
a way to
escape

Today
I willingly
climbed
out of bed
before my
alarm,
washed my
bed sheets,
changed
my profile
picture on
Facebook,
opened
the windows

You and I
may have different
definitions of
progress

I didn’t get
the perfect 36
on my ACT
even after taking
it 4 times, I
didn’t get accepted
to my dream
school, but I
don’t punish
others
for the
absence of
my desires,
and my dad
is proud
of me

The brick wall
edifice of my
depression now
lie in ruins, and
I take full
credit,
the filter of
grey shading
over my life
has transformed
itself into
the color of
hope

My favorite pen
I’ve relied on
to rewrite
my life has
challenged me:
“This is not
the life you
want to
live.”

But
I
am
alive

I’m not
weak in the
knees
over the glistening
edge of a razor
blade, my nightly
prayers don’t
include
tomorrow’s death
wish of throwing
myself off
the Brooklyn bridge


I just
painted my nails,
folded all
of my laundry,
called my dad

And told him,
“I hope you’re proud
of me.”