Dear Hair,
I'm sorry for turning you grey and white with my stress.

Dear Brain,
I'm sorry for all the depressing thoughts and worries.

Dear Eyes,
I'm sorry for drowning you in the tears from my breakdowns.

Dear Mouth,
I'm sorry for all the kind lies and obscene truths I made you say.

Dear Neck,
I'm sorry for the red marks caused by the ropes I've tied around you.

Dear Shoulders,
I'm sorry for making you carry the weight of the world.

Dear Arms,
I'm sorry for the short, painful, cuts, causing the blood to pour out.

Dear Hands,
I'm sorry for making you drag razors, scissors, and blades across my body.

Dear Heart,
I'm sorry for breaking you up into microscopic shards.

Dear Stomach,
I'm sorry for all the butterflies from the thoughts of him.

Dear Feet,
I'm sorry for all the problems I made you run away from.

Dear Dreams,
I'm sorry I had to crush you for the sake of making others happy.

Dear Feelings,
I'm sorry for trying to erase you from my life.

Dear Friends,
I'm sorry that I've been doing such a bad job at keeping my mask on.

Dear Family,
I'm sorry for being a disappointment.

Dear World,
I'm sorry that I had to pain you with my existence.

And lastly,

Dear M,
I'm sorry that you have to go through so much without me by your side.

It's just a thought,
It's just a dream,
only inside my mind,
but why do I want to scream?

There is hate in me,
behind my happy, innocent, calmness,
beneath the surface of my optimism
lies a demon of anger, depression, and fear.

But I can't let the hate go onto others,
they don't deserve to feel the pain of the cruel words I think,
the sadness that tides me make me cry oceans before I sleep,
So it gets released onto me.

Each scar on my wrist represents a fight,
a battle with this internal monster.
Each line means another win, for I have not given up,
not yet.

I will keep fighting.
Fighting so that my friends never need to feel this pain,
so that they never need to  worry,
so that I can keep smiling for them.

I will always fight,
and I won't lose to the hate in me.

His heart was in the highlands
and mine was down by the sea.
Although we were different in every way,
I felt as though he was the one for me.

I gave him my heart,
I poured out my soul
I trusted him completely
and now in my chest, he has left a hole.

I felt betrayed and depressed,
but I forgave him all the same,
believing the fault was mine
and that he was not to blame.

My wrists are now bleeding,
staining my white shirt red,
I know not to keep my heart on my sleeve,
but to keep it locked far away instead.

There's a mirror, hanging on my wall.
It shows me images of what it sees.
There's no bias. No judgement.
All I see is the hideous monster I call me.