I am silently crying out for help,
Wishing that somebody, anybody will see me.
For somebody to ask me what’s wrong?
And know that I’m lying when I say “I’m fine”
Because, darling I am many things, but “fine” is not one of them.
I am the farthest thing from fine.
I’m a disaster.

– Silent Cry // F.C.

No matter how sad I feel right now I can’t bring myself to cry.
For others it can only take a sad movie and they’re sobbing.
I don’t cry that easily and when I do I can’t stop.
If you see me crying, you know that it has gotten bad.

I have three coping methods:
1. Writing
2. Drinking
3. Cutting
I have now just completed all three.
I am numb.

Writing is my therapeutic way of letting my emotions out.
Nobody reads my content anyways.
So what is there to lose?
I can write without worry of consequence.

1 shot, 2 shot, 3 shot, 4,
I feel the alcohol burning down my throat,
The familiar feeling I’ve come to know all too well.
I’m trying to make the pain go away.
Trying to make sure I don’t remember anything tomorrow.
It courses through my veins and becomes part of me.
The words are becoming blurry now,
I’m glad I have spell check.

I became overwhelmed with emotion and I cut my wrist.
Almost a year clean and now the number goes back down to zero.
I’m so used to being at the number zero.
I cut to numb the pain I am feeling.
I cut to feel pain, to know I am alive.
To see the blood dripping down my arm,
As proof that my heart is beating.
I’m alive but I am not living.
I feel incomplete without cuts on my wrist
I’ve grown accustomed to them.
I miss them when they are gone.
Welcome back old friends.

To numb the pain I have 3 coping mechanisms.
Usually it is one or the other,
But add them all together and it’s,
1, 2, 3 strikes you’re out.

– Numb // F.C.

I’m sorry I am not the epitome of beauty.
But don’t call me ugly,
Then ask me why I have trouble finding beauty in myself.
That’s like shooting someone in the leg,
And then asking them why they’re bleeding.

– Double Standards // F.C.

I bite my tongue until it bleeds, so that I do not offend you.
I have so much to say to you, but I know you will not like it.
The things I want to say are very harsh and you are not as strong as I.
I bite my tongue so I will not regret saying something I didn’t mean.

I bite my tongue until it bleeds, so that you will not see my lip tremble. The hurtful words you say try to show on my face, but I won’t let them.
I will not let you see me being hurt by what you have said and done.
I bite my tongue so you will not have the satisfaction of winning.

I bite my tongue until it bleeds, so that the tears will not escape my eyes
I do not like when people see me crying for any reason.
I feel like letting someone seeing you cry shows weakness.
I bite my tongue so you will never see weakness in me.

I find that I bite my tongue more often than I should.
The metallic taste of blood in my mouth has become so familiar.
I bite my tongue so hard that I am surprised I haven’t bitten it in half.
I will continue to bite my tongue so I am in control of my emotions.

– Bite Me // F.C.

Bleed. Watch the crimson fluid leave your body.
Bleed. Slowly trickling down your arm.
Bleed. The feelings are overwhelming.
Bleed. You cry silently so nobody will hear.

Bleed. Your skin is stained red.
Bleed. Your eyes sting with tears.
Bleed. Makeup runs down your face.
Bleed. You try to silence your mind.

Bleed. You cut a little deeper.
Bleed. You hiss in pain.
Bleed. You become numb.
Bleed. The blood flows quickly.

Bleed. You don’t feel the blade slice across your skin.
Bleed. You begin to feel drowsy.
Bleed. You feel nothing at this point.
Bleed. You’ve lost the war.

– Bleed. // F.C.

I can manage to think myself into a bad mood,
And not just any bad mood
The kind of bad mood that makes you question life,
The kind of bad mood that causes a strife.

I get these gut wrenching feelings,
My chest tightens,
I can barely breathe,
And I cry without any real reason.

“What’s wrong with me?”
I ask myself as my hands begin to tremble
‘I’m insane’ I think
As my breathing hitches in my throat.

I was fine two minutes ago
And now I’m lying on the bathroom floor
Trying to silence my sobs,
So nobody else will hear.

The part that bothers me most,
Is I don’t have an explanation for why I’m crying
Oh no, please don’t ask
You’ll only make things worse.

I can’t explain it to myself
How am I supposed to explain it to you?
This is helpless, I’m hopeless
I even write this with tear-stained cheeks.

Nobody can help me,
I don’t even know what’s wrong with me
And that’s why my dear,
Overthinking will be the death of me.

– Overthinking will be my Demise // F.C.