I'm haunted by these demons within.
Unable to let light in.
I'm desperate for an end to this pain.
As I hit rock bottom once again.

I am searching for a sign.
Something to tell me I will be fine.
I need a distraction or a way to cope.
Before I give up all hope.

So I surrender.
I'm giving up.
I need a little help
To pick myself back up.
I cant do this alone,
Please let light be shown.
I surrender...

I've done things I'm not proud of.
And I just can't seem to rise above.
I turned away from truth.
I realized I'm not bulletproof.

Scars remind me of mistakes made.
Lonely nights drawing with a blade.
Things people said that cut deep.
Stressful nights without sleep.

So I surrender.
I'm giving up.
I need a little help
To pick myself back up.
I cant do this alone,
Please let light be shown.
I surrender...

It's been over a year
Since you broke me to the core.
Took away my innocence
Because you wanted more.

Hoped I'd never see you
Or look into your eyes.
The eyes of a sadistic monster
That tore me down with lies.

Thought I'd never see those hands.
Hands that made me feel unclean.
Made me feel guilty for your sins.
The worst I've ever seen.

The memories don't go away.
Or the feel of your cold hand.
They keep me up awake at night.
A touch as rough as sand.

Shock.
Two words
Hitting you like a train.
It takes a second to sink in.
The reality of it all.

Denial.
No. Not possible.
He is so young.
The doctor said he was fine.
This cannot be happening...

Anger.
Screaming at the heavens.
Why me?
I thought my God cared.
So then why is he doing this?

Fear.
What will happen to our family?
Is he going to die?
Will he ever walk me down the isle?
What if...?

Reality.
The tests, doctors, meetings.
They all blend together.
I can't separate one from another.
Because they all say the same things.

The Unknown.
They say chemo will make him weak.
He may not be able to do basic things.
And the same question still haunts me:
Will he make it?

Missing the feel
Of a blade on my wrist.
Missing the sting
Of where the metal has kissed.

But I'm over six months clean
And my friends are finally proud.
I guess I'll push this down some more
To keep these voices from getting loud.

What gives a father
The idea
That he has the right
To abide his son?
Hit him?
Hurt him?
Bully him?

Why does he think
That just 'cause he's bigger,
Older
Stronger
He can tear him down?
Break him?
Beat him?

How is he okay
With taunting his own child?
Criticizing him.
Telling him
He'll never be good enough.
A disappointment.
A failure.

Once again, I am terrified of how I feel.
These thoughts are foreign to me.
My whole life, I was told it was wrong.
So then why is it in my mind?

I never understood how this worked...
But now I do.
It's just like how it is for everyone else,
Except a little bit switched.

I know I'm not all the way there,
I doubt I ever will be.
But...
I don't know...

I mean...
My best friend,
But is that all that's there?
Or more on my part?

I don't know what's going on.
I'm confused and scared,
Of my family... My church...
Society...

But none of it compares to the fear,
That if it gets out,
She won't understand. Or worse...
That she will feel the same...

Take my hand, darling.
Hold me close.
Not another cut.
Not another dose.

Be my escape,
And I'll be your drug.
The feeling of a high,
Replaced with a hug.

Stay with me,
And promise this:
Every scar
Will be met with a kiss.

Love me tender,
Love me sweet.
And these addictions
We both shall beat.

Loving you,
Loving me.
Day by day,
For once, truly happy.

Watch me as I disappear.
As my soul begins to fade.
Watch as inside I start to go numb.
And find comfort in a blade.

Watch as my heart grows cold,
As the sparkle in me dies.
Watch as my voice goes silent,
Worn out from my unheard cries.

Watch as the girl you once knew
Slowly retreats within.
Watch as my armor cracks,
Thinking about what could've been.

Watch as I scratch words on paper.
Words that are never heard.
Watch as I try to fly away,
To be free like a bird.

Watch as I stop showing emotion,
And I start not to care.
Watch as I try to make it through Hell
When I haven't got a prayer.

Blue eyes please look at me,
Cause I'm standing here hopelessly.

Wishing for a second chance;
Praying for a sideways glance.

Unable to look in them without pain.
Terrified I never will again.

Blue eyes, I know how well you lie.
Cut out my heart and leave me to die.

Divert your glance to avoid seeing my face.
As I write poems about a boy named Chase.

Everything said in them is true,
And not quite ironic that the name belongs to you.

You chose the wrong heart to break.
The sparkle I saw in those blue eyes is fake.

They call me schizophrenic
And say I talk to things that aren't there.
But they have been there since I can remember.
They talk to me and I listen.
But sometimes I wish they would just go away.

They call me pyro
And say I set fires for fun.
But it is a fascination with the beauty.
The colors and the movement are mesmerizing.
But that kind of beauty can be hard to control.

It's not my fault that I'm like this.
Ignorance isn't always bliss.
I'm okay. I promise. I swear.
I'm not crazy, don't you care?
Trapped inside this padded cell.
Living in this white-walled hell.

They call me cutter
And say I slice away my problems.
But it is the emotions that it releases.
I imagine the flowing blood is my anger and hurt.
But those feelings come back and the scars don't fade.

They call me bipolar
And say I can't control my emotions.
But it's not my fault.
My mind changes them to extremes and I freak out.
If I could stay in control I would.

It's not my fault that I'm like this.
Ignorance isn't always bliss.
I'm okay. I promise. I swear.
I'm not crazy, don't you care?
Trapped inside this padded cell.
Living in this white-walled hell.

They call me sadist
And say I find joy in peoples' pain.
But it is the high that I get
From the hurt and humiliation
That makes me crave it.

They call me psychotic
And say I have "lost touch" with reality.
But my reality seems real to me.
I am forced to live in the "real" world
When I liked mine much better.

It's not my fault that I'm like this.
Ignorance isn't always bliss.
I'm okay. I promise. I swear.
I'm not crazy, don't you care?
Trapped inside this padded cell.
Living in this white-walled hell.

They call us troubled
And try to treat us with tests and machines.
They all want to "fix" us and make us better.
They just want us to be the way society wants.
But that's not who we are...

Silly voices in my head,
Telling me I should be dead.

Silly voices in my mind,
Saying things that aren't kind.

Silly voices every day.
Why won't they just go away?

Silly voices, here's my plea.
Don't you know you're killing me?