Mirror mirror on the wall,
Was I always meant to fall?
Roses white, and dying light,
Silver’s sweet forgiving bite,
She'll ask “why?”
No answers found,
And I'll rot deep
Beneath the ground.
For the only kingdom waiting for me,
When I fall to eternal sleep,
Is two feet wide,
And six feet deep.

Sat in silence,
A minute passes,
An hour.

Silence overwhelms me,
Like a blanket,
Suffocating me.

Hand shaking,
Ink stains blotting
A once Perfect sheet of paper.

Scarlet dripping on the floor,
As my breathing becomes shallow

Slowly
            Fading
                         Away

Until there's nothing left of me
But the empty shell,
Of what I once was

You are autumn.
Chilly outside, but inside, you are warm.
Being around you is like being curled up indoors with a book,
Wrapped in your own universe. Maybe some hot cocoa, a little sugar.
Maybe tea, bittersweet and rich with thought.
You are colours bursting with life,
Blazing reds and yellows against a brilliant blue sky.

You are serien.
Peace.
You are the leaves that crunch,
when you step on them.
You are the smell on August chilly mornings
That melts into a sunshine filled paradise.

You are autumn.

You are also winter.
Frostbitten on the outside in a facade of cold,
Bitterness that has built up through the year.
But underneath all that you are clear, starry skies.
You illuminate things when it is least expected.

Underneath the cold you bring warmth
Comfort and shelter from the raging storms outside.

You are waking up curled in blankets on a bed
That calls for you as you try to wake.

You are a hug when it feels like nothing is going right.

You are winter
You are fall

I wish you were mine.

What happened to being invincible?

The girl who thought she was invisible,

got admitted into a mental hospital,

last week.



All the the cool kids smoke ****,

because popping pills

is too mainstream.



A castle on a hill,

a throne of

lies.



And it won't be over

until you've

died.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,
About this
I can already tell you aren’t listening.


“Some days my depression is small, like a firefly in the mouth of a lion.
Other days, it’s the lion.”

You don’t acknowledge me.

“Firefly days aren’t so bad.
Tolerable.
Lion days, however, I call dark days.
It’s not like i fear the dark, and maybe that’s my problem, but I’ve gotten so used to it, it’s like a friend almost.
A toxic friend, slowly consuming me to the point where some days i am held captive in my own bed.
Some days i cannot eat.”

“I thought your problem was laziness.” You say going back to ignoring me.

“If that was the problem I wouldn’t have marks on my wrist that you know don’t come from a cat.
We don’t even have a cat and you know there is something wrong and you refuse to acknowledge it and for what?

Your dignity?

The same dignity that prohibits me from loving who I want because the rest of the world may not agree with it?

The very same dignity that killed your own daughter because you were too proud to get her the help she needed?

Oh, right.

That was my fault.

The same way it is my fault you’re stuck with two kids you didn’t want.

The same way it’s not your fault i tried to take my own life.

Because I was selfish.

Selfish for trying to rid you of burdens that you don't even carry.

I'm sorry I'm not enough for you.

Yesterday I saw you,
A singular star.
The first to twinkle,
Interrupting the darkness.

Like a firefly stuck,
On an indigo tapestry.
You shone,
Oh, so proud.

As more lights poked through,
The inky night sky,
I felt drawn to you, little star,
shining up above.

I began to wonder,
If it was him,
Watching me,
As I stood.

Up above,
Oh, so high.,
Was it you,
Watching me?

If I should die tonight,
Take a gun to my head,
And simply fly.
Just look up,
And say goodbye.
Dont you follow,
And dont you cry,
Im not worth it,
Just let me go,
Let me die.

I always loved to dream,
Of dancing in the moonlight.
Twirling under the stars.
Dipping
               So
                     Low,
But held safe in his arms.

A dress of red,
Or maybe blue.
Dancing, dancing,
Step, one, two...

Twisting and whirling,
To no music at all,
Just my body and his,
"What could be more perfect than this?"

But,
Because I am unlovable,
The 'Little Orphan Girl,'
My dream will stay a dream.

And I'll stay stuck,
in my reality.