Cold hearted,
Iced blood,
These feelings of pain, come in like a flood.

Blue veins,
****** lips,
Take some more pills, go for a kip.

Visable rib cage,
Hunched back,
Skin and bones,
Smoke some crack.

Black eyes,
Bruised lies,
Smoking in chains to pass the time.

Winter comes,
Cold and ******,
I sit here alone,
Waiting for you to come home.


Christmas arrives,
I wonder why,
You had to leave,
And no longer breathe.

So, I'll stay in bed all day,
Put the gifts away,
And remember the day,
That you said you'd stay.

I had the most wonderful butterfly
                                        on my shoulder
Whispering me an ancient secret!
But the noise of my footsteps
                                            got too loud
I stopped!
What? Say that once again!
But he flew away…
Hiding the secret
                  in the flapping of his wings...

The day you write a poem
is like no other!
It's like running through a dark corridor
and then you open a door
to this room full of light
that shines through you!
And you find yourself
conjuring words of hope and joy
fascinated in front of the endless
*beauty of life

The sun is beating down on his face; he is an older man.
He is sitting on a park bench; he is feeding birds bread.
A girl comes walking up to the older man, she seems happy to see him.
The girl is crying tears of joy it seems.
The older man hugs the girl, they sit down on the bench.
The girl hands him a box, a box full of letters she wrote to him over the years.
The man slowly reads each one, sometimes smiling and laughing at what he reads.
He begins to read more, the man starts crying.
He is reading about her issue with her weight and food.
He reads about her self-harm.
The man slowly looks at the girl, he says I'm sorry honey.
I'm sorry I couldn't of been there for you, but I'm here now.

Band aids fill my arms.
People are staring, I wish I didn’t have to have these band aids on.
If I didn’t though everyone would be concerned.

Even though everything seemed to be going wrong, I somehow managed to keep going.
I had thought about death and suicide before.
I spent hours where I was debating on if I should keep going.
I didn’t know how to say good-bye to the world.
I didn’t know what my last words would be, since I had so many words left to say.
Something stopped me from taking all those pills.
Everything seemed to be keeping me down.
Darkness was my friend.
I put a rope around the fan, I was going to hang myself.
I didn’t want my grandmother to find me hanging there.
My corpse would give her nightmares.