Don't allow
the thoughts of your sisters
to invade you mind and
wrinkle sheets so carefully
folded over the places
you never grew in to.

I've seen pictures of your old girlfriend
on the laptop you let me borrow, I was
snooping, looking for something to accuse
you of. You told me they had all been deleted
(I hadn't asked) you told me everything
was gone.

I've read messages, happy, hinted, flirtatious
coy poetry played between two parts which
haven't been officially scripted.

"It's weird between us now, isn't it?"
berated friendship, bartered love offered
in the gaps which remain unspoken
yet.

He does not speak of her
anymore. I have not asked.

Was it, unsolicited? Or does she tickle
your decadent fancy; you do the honourable
thing now and flirt with her
behind her fiances back.

Each trial has been blond and I fail
at not hating every single golden glinted thief
who stole something before it was even mine
to take.

You rise and I darken; I smile sticking needles
in your misadvised tongue. Still, these words burn
sweeter than those in my head.

Something whispers about that girl
who just walked past. Inside my crypt
things do not look good for me.

this is,
my Christmas tree,
not matching a thing,
really,
ornaments,
from years ago,
to lights that don't all work,
you know,

this,
is,
our,
Christmas tree,
a little broken,
like our family,
presents underneath,
are less each year,
as ones i love,

disappear.


this is our Christmas tree,
a little dead,
but still pretty,

this is my Christmas tree,

and its,
a lot like,
me.

Depression is so much more than being sad.
Depression is feeling alone,
even when you're not.
Depression is feeling worthless,
like you can't do anything right.
Depression is feeling trapped
inside your own dark mind.

Depression is so much more than being sad.
Depression is feeling so empty
like there's nothing left inside of you.
Depression is randomly crying
for no reason at all.
Depression is waking up in the morning
and wishing you didn't.

Depression is so much more than being sad.
Depression is getting sad
about nothing at all.
Depression is when you feel so empty
you cut your own skin open-
Just to feel something.

Depression is so much more than being sad.
Depression is an illness
that is so hard to fight off.

I'm not sure where I went wrong.
One day we were best friends,
The next we were not.
What happened?

It was you who carried me home,
when I could not walk.
It was you who made me laugh,
when I could not smile.
It was you who stood up for me,
when I could not talk.

It was you who ****** me,
knowing I was drunk.
It was you who took advantage of me,
knowing I was in a relationship.
It was you who did not stop,
knowing I had asked you to.

You are the reason for,
the tears rolling down my face.
You are the reason for,
the cuts and scars on my arms.
You are the reason for,
all of my anxiety and trust issues.

I should hate you for all of this,
But I don't...

People that don't self harm
Don't seem to understand it.
But I don't expect them to.

First, it hurts, A LOT.
It hurts when you first do it
And it hurts the next day.
It hurts when your long sleeves rub against it
And it hurts when you look at what you did.

Next, cuts bleed, A LOT.
At first they don't bleed,
You start cutting deeper,
Then they bleed, a lot.
It doesn't stop bleeding.

Please don't tell me to just stop.
I can't just stop.
It's so addicting.
Even though I want to stop,
I can't.

It starts out as you control it,
But then it ends up controlling you.
You want to wear short sleeves?
Think again, you can't.
You want to go swimming with friends?
Oh yeah, they'll probably think you're crazy.

Every time you do it one more time,
It becomes more and more addicting.
Just one more you think, but no.
This is the last time, but it's not.
You can't just stop.

I don't mean to hurt the people around me.
In that moment, all I can think about is
Hurting myself.
I'm sorry for hurting everyone else
While I'm hurting myself.