You make me so happy
And I hope that I can return
Just a fraction of that happiness
Back to you because
Youre an amazing person.
And you deserve to be happy.
And I love you so much.

Dear me,
You're not good enough,
nor will you ever be.
It's your fault you know,
you didn't speak.
Maybe as a child you were asking for it,
but those other girls weren't.
They shouldn't experience what he did.
Those touching hands in places they shouldn't be.
The psychological terror of being called a liar.
The fear of it happening more, and more,
The memories crashing back every time a boy got close.
You let them get put in that same spot.
You helped him get away with it.
It's all your fault, so no.
You're not good enough,
you will never be.
You are trash, and nothing will change that fact.
Sincerely,
Me

My voice is small, but fierce.
My heart is fiery, but soft.
My eyes are cold, but honest.
My life is short, but real.

I love you, I hate you.
There is no difference.
Each phrase is simply three words,
That without action, mean nothing.
So, I guess we're nothing.

I have never felt more alone than I do now.
Everyone keeps disappearing,
Leaving me to confide only in my demons.
Demons who poke, ****, and pry at my mind;
Convincing me that I don't belong.
Convincing me that I am useless.
Convincing me that I need to disappear.

Are you ******* stupid?
Are you emotionally impaired?
Do you understand im dying?
Do you wish I wasn't here?
When will you hear me?
When will it become clear?
Am I so unwelcome that nobody'll ever care?

Its only now that I realize people only tolerate me.

Im not close to anyone in particular, in fact they're lightyears away.

A gnarly mess of emotion
Is fighting from within me
Trying to win the right to tear me apart
From the inside out.

Each thought stretches my skin
As I writhe in agony
I cant take it
Make it go away
Please
Just please
Someone be there for me

Stopstopstopstop
You're not supposed to listen to these
Thoughtsthoughtsthoughts
Remember what happened the last time, all those
Cutscutscutscuts

You're tearing yourself apart. Stop.
Just stop.
You're being stupid.

O-F-F
                                
                                                          M
    ­                                                            I
   ­                                                        S
                                                               ­   S
                                                            ­   I
                                                           N
                                                               ­    G

                                             Something is missing.
                                                        ­It's not lost
                                                            ­    or

                                                         ­          J
                                                               ­        U
                                                               M
                                                               ­            B
                                                               ­         L
                                                      ­        E
                                                       ­           D

                                                  I­t's simply not there.
                                            And I do not know what it is.
                                                             ­     
                                                           ­  I love him,
                                                 but something is missing.
                                          
                                                                ­ It feels
                                                           ­                 
                           O
                         F
                      F

                                                            Temp­orary.
                                                            not concrete.
                                             As if the wind could blow it away.
    





                                                 ­                                                 I've finally dropped my walls
                                                           ­          For someone new
                            
                                ­   but it just feels...
                                                                ­                                               off

Dreams are often interpreted as lovely and fantastic,
but what some seem to forget is that nightmares,
as scary as they may be, are also dreams.
Those types of dreams are not lovely or fantastic,
hence the name: Nightmares.

Life is often interpreted as wild and exciting,
but what some seem to forget is that Staying Alive,
as agonizing as it may be, is also life.
That type of life is not exciting or fun,
but it's also: Life.

When I was younger
I'd have never thought
that life could be this cruel;
However, as I've grown older
I've realized many key facts,
one of which being that,
it seems to have
just as many joys as it has sorrows.

I want pain
I need pain
Not the pain on the inside
I need physical pain
So that maybe,
just maybe,
I won't remember
the pain on the inside.

I don't know what's wrong with me.
Right now, I'm too aware of my unscathed skin.
I want to pierce it, I want to tear it.
To see if my emotions will seep out,
so that I won't have to deal with them

I always mess up.
Somehow. Someway.
Each and every time.
I accidentally hurt you.
I don't mean to.
I never mean to.
Yet I cannot find the proper words
to convey that I am not abandoning you.
to convey that I am not against you.
It's overwhelming.
Overwhelming to the point
that a knife to the stomach is preferable.
For maybe it would provide
more release than temporarily solving the problem.
A permanent fix.

Every time a man gets too close
I'm brought back to those memories.
Memories of when He touched me.
A mere 12 years old,
lying asleep in bed.
So scared to utter a word,
too terrified to tell mommy.

Every time another woman confides in me,
I'm brought back to those memories.
Memories of when He hid in the walls.
Watching a little girl change,
thinking of what He'd do later.
Too selfish and perverted
to realize the impact He'd have on her.

Every time a boy gets too close,
I'm brought back to those memories.
Memories of when He had touched me.
When He had gotten too close; too handsy.
I cannot unfeel what he did,
Not even after 5 years.
The scar is forever sealed under my skin.

Every time I see that car,
I'm brought back to those memories.
Memories of Him and His Molestation.
And I cannot help but to wish
that somehow, some way, He had been arrested.
But instead, the man walks free.
And now He lives in a house of little girls,
and the blame rests on me.

The struggle to breathe has become too much.
Just yesterday I had a dream and almost couldn't get up.
Lost in an irate sea, slowly sinking to the bottom
A dark figure watches as I lose the air that fills my lungs.
Hands outstretched toward the surface.
No, not the surface.
Toward you.
You, my very sustenance.
The water I drink, the air I breathe
and without it, I shall drown.
and with too much, I shall also drown.
And so, I must keep you at an arms length.
Never truly embracing you,
yet never truly dismissing you.
Awaking with a start.
A pressure on my chest.
I hadn't been breathing.
Even in my sleep, I am unsafe.

A swirl of need, want, and terror resides within me.
I need to connect,
I want to connect;
however, the connection inspires my innermost fears
to come slinking out of the dark
showing their faces
and grinning as I become
hopelessly afraid.
Unfortunately,
if this terror persists,
I fear that I may soon
come to an end.

I'm a ******* coward.
I should have said something, anything.
Instead I just sat here, took it, and tried to hold back tears.
You didn't know you did it.
Probably didn't know it hit me like that.
I should have said something,
but i'm just a coward.

I wasn't even aware I had these feelings for you until you decided you loved her. Guess it's too late now.

I never knew I'd feel something worse than a stab in the back.
Something worse than being lied to when you already know the truth.
Something more wretched than watching your love die day by day.
Something so horrible, that I hid the pain.
No, you're right.
You didn't take a blade to my back
Instead, you set a fire to my soul and watched it go up in flames.
You destroyed my will to think for myself or love or hurt or enjoy.
You burnt the very thought of happiness to a crisp.
And left me to stumble through life, numb and betrayed.

And forever she sat, alone on the edge.
Waiting for someone she knew to be dead.
While simultaneously still holding the hope
That someone, anyone, would give her a shove.
So she could fly, and play pretend
while losing herself to the void within.