Her hands are breaking;
She sits at the piano bench waiting for her hands to be ok so she can play.
Her daddy broke her hands she’s so sad. Her daddy came home drunk she was excited to see him at first,
she sat at her piano that her mama bought her for her birthday when she was eight.
  She started to play for her dad but he got mad, so he threw her into the wall and broke her hands.
He was drunk again,
her mama wasn’t home she was out selling drugs to get some money.
She told her mama to sell the piano so she wouldn’t have to sell drugs for a while. But her mama didn’t sell it,
her daddy left and her mama died when she was 18.
The girl got her own place she brought her piano with her. She was able to play again because her hands healed.
She goes into her own world and forgets about her mama selling drugs. She continues to play the piano; she forgets about her daddy. The piano is the girls drug, her addiction, her medication

I started writing again a year ago for the first time since I was 8.
I started again in the hope that it would help me stop self-harming.
A healthy way to get my anger out, but for the first time in four months I self-harmed tonight.
I have cuts on my wrist, I have scars there from previous times.
I will have to start recovery again, I thought 4 months ago was my last time.
I’m not angry with myself, I have relapsed a lot.  
4 months is my new record; I should be proud of that.
I’m sorry Alexis that you know I self-harm, I’m sorry you will see new cuts again.
I’m sorry Josh, you had been amazing towards me since you found out I self-harmed.
I’m sorry I relapsed again Josh, you told me to pray to God, instead I wrote poems.
I’m sorry grandma, I know your worried about me.

She’s happier when she’s self-harmed.
At least, that’s what she thinks.

She’s more confident when scars are hiding on her body.
Until she looks in a mirror
And realizes what she has done to herself.

She hates herself when she looks in the mirror.
Until that feeling goes away
When someone says, something mean, without knowing her story
That’s when self-hatred comes out and captures her mind.

She’s happier when she’s self-harmed.
All her issues are better when expressed on her skin.
  Crashing back when the high of self-harming is gone.
And it ends up causing her more pain, then she had before.

She likes the world more when she has self-harmed.
It’s filled with so much good
Until something sets her off and feels the need to self-harm again
And she hates it all more than she should once again.

Her mind feels calm, when she self-harms.
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to self-harm again.

But she can stop any time she wants
She has herself trying to believe this.
Because self-harm takes the pain away.
That is, until all her friends leave.
Because her life revolves around the next time she self-harms again.

Shards of sadness filled my life,
Piece by piece it filled my heart until there was nothing but sadness,
Sadness has taken over, there is no helping me now.

I’m sick, head hurts, ears hurt. My mouth is sour.
It hurts when I swallow.
I can’t eat much.
I am so lucky it’s also the time of the month.
My family has been sick lately and I have been taking care of them.
It was bound to happen, me being sick.
It's ok though gives me an excuse to sleep.

The silence woke her.
She become aware of everything.
Suddenly the world had become quiet.
She could see the people running around.
But she became oblivious to what people said.
Everyone became unfamiliar with her voice.
Because everyone was tired of trying to speak to her when she seemed like she wasn't listening.
But she was, she didn't know what to say though because everything was falling apart.

It’s quiet outside this morning.
Fog fills the air; I’m walking down the sidewalk.
The trees are a beautiful color, green, brown, and red leaves fill the street.
The wind is blowing and for now everything is calm. But the calmness won’t last it never does.
I don’t see anyone, I’m glad that way I don’t have to smile or talk to anyone.
My mind is cluttered full of thoughts; I don’t know what to think or say.

I am a girl who hides behind a smile.
Everyone who looks at me in one glance could think that I am happy. I have everything that I could dream of.
Their mistaken, they should look at me more closely.
People should look at my long sleeves on a hot day, they should know something is wrong.
I don’t like eating in front of people because they stare.
If everyone took a little more time to notice someone, or smile at a person maybe the world wouldn’t be so sad. Maybe I wouldn’t be sad.

September 10th.
This date never use to be important to me.
Until 5 years ago, tomorrow is Suicide Prevention Day.
Suicide, what an interesting word.
I’m sorry to say, my dad lost his best-friend to suicide.
Suicide, took his life.
My dad still thinks about him.
My dad’s friend had a mother.
His mother is still alive; she still misses her son.
She has pictures of him everywhere.
I’m sorry to everyone who has lost someone to suicide.

I sat in my chair, it was a brown, cream peachy color.
I put my feet up and snuggled under my blanket, I loved this blanket.
The blanket was so big, it had big blue and pink flowers on it.
I had a table next to my chair, my book was on there that I was currently reading.
I looked out my window and closed my eyes, I could see orange and yellow colors when I did.
The sun was out, it was beautiful and warm, I felt safe.
I kept my eyes closed and relaxed, I thought about my life.

I’m lost in a million different worlds, I’m tangled and weaved into lives that aren’t mine.
At night I slowly fall into my  world hoping someone will comfort me tonight.
I lie and say I’m fine when I really want to scream.
I see you, I want to reach out and touch your face.
I see you every night. I want you to comfort me but you never do, you never did. Why don’t you?
I think I’m going crazy; I don’t want to see you anymore in my world.
Leave me alone! I hate you.

I need someone to hold my hand.
I need to feel the warmth of the skin.
I need you to understand I might be sad even when you do this.
Don't be alarmed if I suddenly break out into tears.
It's not you, I'm glad your here holding my hand.
Sometimes though even when I know someone is here for me.
I still feel the need to cry.
Because I feel things, and I see things, and life happens and it's hard at times.
So, don't run away when my eyes become filled with tears.
Because if you weren't here, holding my hand, it might be worse.

Hey, I thought I would write something for all my followers.
I would like to start off by thanking Word Freak.
Word Freak was my first ever follower, he is the one who told me about this site.
Thank you to cgembry, the first person to like my work.
Thank you, Teresa Alaska the first person to comment on my work.
Thank you, Anna-Maria Rose Newell, you have given me a lot of inspiration.
Thank you, Walter W. H., David Hewitt, and Enslaved King you also have given me inspiration.
Thank you, Joellei for always being here when I need someone to talk to!
Thank you, Flames for a martyr, Toxic moon and Vicki.
Thank you, Woody, Stephen, and Keith Wilson.
Thank you, Bleeding Diamonds you make me smile and laugh.
Thank you, Jennifer DeAngelo for writing a poem about me.
Thank you, Eebi Jonson the first person I collaborated with.
Thank you, Kristy Renae Dalton.
Thank you,  John Stevens for raising your two beautiful grandchildren, I can tell they really love you.
Thank you, so much John Stevens for reading my work and giving me endless amounts of support.
Thank you to John Stevens wife also.
Thank you to all my followers each and every one of you are special to me.

The glass house sits there waiting to be shattered,
the people inside are the ones who will shatter it with their words and actions.
The people inside yell and everyone knows even though they try to hide it.
The girl inside is scared her parents are going to get a divorce. She hides and tries to not listen to the fighting.
She’s tired of having to keep going back there.
The other lady inside hates her she has told the girl.
It seems so hopeless but the girl still tries to make everything alright.
But she needs help herself but she will never ask the people in the house for it.
The glass house keeps shattering because of the mean words and the girl tries to rebuild it.
She wants to get out of there and she can but she is still afraid of what lies ahead. The girl is afraid she will fail.
Even when she leaves the broken glass house to spend time with the rest of the family she pushes them away she doesn’t want them to get hurt trying to pick up the shattered pieces of her life because she is hurt herself by trying to fix things.
What is the girl supposed to do?
She needs help can’t the people inside the house see that?
Don’t they care?
But in the end it doesn’t matter because it shatters slowly and then it breaks all at once
and the girl can’t do anything anymore she can’t fix the house, she could never fix it. The house was already breaking she didn’t see that though.

Dreams pass
Lives change.
The world keeps going.
People fall.
People pass.
The world keeps going.
People struggle.
People rush by without saying hi.
The world keeps going.
When will it change?

Today is the day...
Today is the day that I forget about you.
Today is the day when I let go of the pain you inflicted on me.
Today is the day when I let my scars heal.

Today is the day when I stop numbing the pain.
Today is the day when I face the mistakes I made.
Today is the day when I become who you wanted me to be.
Today is the day to change.
Is it ok if I'm no longer the nice girl?
Is it ok if I don't let you step on me?
Today is the day when I let your memory invade my mind.
I'm sorry I ran away for so long.
I didn't want my demons to catch me.
For a while, I felt nothing.
But then you came along and made me feel again, you left, I shut down.
Today is the day when I start feeling again.
Because I am figuring out that I do not need you, I can feel and still be stable

I became what you wanted me to be.
Feeling faithless, God is not here.
Lost in this darkness.
I'm still drowning.
What did you expect to happen when you did those things?
That everything would be ok.
That it wouldn't affect me, or were you hoping I evolved into the image you created for me.
Because I was becoming the person, you wanted.
A part of me still resisting, enough of me changed though.
Enough of me changed, and I started believing your ways.
You are gone, now who am I?

She died, no one asked if I was ok.
I had to pack her stuff up and put it in the garage, I guess they thought that would wipe her existence away and make it seem like she was never here.
She was here though, she touched my life.
A life was lost, no one cares.

close my closet door and spend the night in there,
put headphones on and blast music in my ears. So I couldn't concentrate to ******* my thoughts in the hope that I would fall asleep.
I don’t want to close my eyes though and sleep for a lot of reasons.

Even though I can't help you all, I know God will.
He has been there for me when I needed Him the most.
His love will fix your broken spirit; it takes time I know.
You might be waiting a long time before He steps in and helps.
You may wander and fall, but God is there.
Reach out for Him, feel His love and warmth.
He is there I promise, He is there for everyone.
Sick, old, young, blind, deaf. it doesn't matter, He is there for you.
He loves you.

Razors pain you, little cuts here and there.
You feel a sting in the shower, it hurts you knew it was going to happen, it always hurts after you cut.
But right after you feel a little relief, the high never lasts long enough.
I drag the blade across my skin again, hoping to get enough courage to press down.

You hurt my heart, I will forever have a scar.
This scar that you have inflicted on me will never go away.
I have to many scars, I remember where each one came from.
I will never recover from you hurting me.

Country music reminds me of you.
I remember our first date; it was in the back of your truck bed watching the stars.
You said you would take me away from everything.
We knew each other since I was 8.
You are my best friend.
You were my first kiss.

She’s trying to not get hit, she knows it will hurt only for a moment.
She has heard it all words hurt more.
Words haunt you, they go through your head and never let you sleep.
Her mother grabbed her hand and is trying to slap her.
She is screaming, daddy please help me.
Her dad does nothing, or maybe he does say something.
She is trying to block it all out.

I have the table arranged perfectly, with two lit candles.
I’m wearing a long beautiful blue dress, it’s his favorite color.
The dinner is ready, I decide to sit at the table and wait.
I wait for hours; the food is cold.
He isn’t coming home, it’s just me at this table.
I knew he wouldn’t, he’s been dead for 3 years.
It’s my birthday though, we always had dinner together on my birthday.
I miss him.

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.

She is being pulled and pushed around.
She is being dragged around.
She hates this world; she has no freedom.
She always dreamed of getting out of this place at 18.
Wishes in her  heart usually never came true.
Getting use to the world was a struggle.
So innocent at one time.
She is labeled as depressed, suicidal, and a self-harmer.
Liar is her new name.
Life rejected her, she really rejected the world because she is scared.

I’m not sure why I thought this.
I had a rule, fat girls weren’t allowed to have short hair.
What I was saying is, I wasn’t allowed to have short hair because I was fat.
A form of punishment you could call it.
I didn’t think I deserved to have short hair.
Today I was going to go get my hair done.
I was sitting and looking at a magazine, I was waiting to see if they had anyone available.
I don’t know why, for some reason I decided to finally cut my hair short.
While the girl was cutting my hair, I looked around and saw other clients.
I didn’t want to look; I was afraid I had made the wrong choice.
It was too late though; she was already cutting it.
But I raised my head after I gave myself a speech inside my head.
I said it is just hair. It will grow back Steph.
I peeked at it and looked down quickly.
I looked again, is that really me?
The hairdresser blow dried my hair.
She asked afterwards, do you like it?
I didn’t know what to say besides yes I love it.
I really love it.
Do I really love it?
It’s a big change from my long hair.

I’m breathing but barely, why don’t you leave me alone.
Can’t you see when we were together I was suffocating.
You told me I wasn’t good enough for you, you told me to change so I did.
I stopped seeing my friends and I stopped talking to my family.
You held me down and told me I wasn’t worth your time
You broke up with me 20 times, coming back every time saying you were sorry.

Mom, I’m coming home.
You said you had concerns that you needed to talk about.
It seems you want me there.
I love you mom.
Mom, I’m coming home.
Wait for me please, don’t leave.
I will be there; we can talk then.

I use different tools to harm myself.
Wrists are my favorite place to cut.
He told me he knows I cut often.
I tried cutting my stomach it’s easier to hide the cuts.
I’m tired of wearing long sleeves in the summer to hide my cuts on my wrist.
Cut, cut, cut, cut.
Blood comes out of my wrist.
What a beautiful sight, I could stare at it forever.
I might explore and cut my thighs.
Cut, cut, cut, cut.
I need to buy new razors.
My hidden knife is still in the cabinet it’s hidden behind my shampoo bottle.  
I use the knife and then I take a razor and use that.
Razors hurt more, my wrist itches after I cut.
It stings in the shower, if it rains and I just cut it stings then too.
I wanted to stop, I have been addicted for a while now.
Someday I will cut to deep and it will be all over.
No pills.
All I have to do is hit a vein.

The edge looks so inviting.
I could close my eyes and it could be all over.  
One step and then I’m dead.
Should I jump?

I like singing in the shower, can you hear me?
I will sing to you if you want.
Maybe after we can lay in my bed, I want to know about you.
Tell me all of your hopes and dreams.
Tell me your favorite color, mines green.
How many girls hearts have you broken?
The hours pass and I feel like I have known you for years.

I had a picture in my head of how my family was supposed to look like.
Smiling faces.
My parents getting along.
No screaming.
I’m not sure why I thought that my family would be happy, funny and have a good life.
I learned early on that this wasn’t the case, I’m afraid to grow up and have a marriage that ends, have screaming in the house and have my kids wishing they could be dead.
Because that’s what my childhood was like.
I’m afraid to have kids, even though people say I’m nothing like my parents, people think I will be a good mother.
How can I be a good mom when I didn’t have one myself?
Don’t get me wrong I’m not blaming my mom, she did the best she could.

One time is all it took for me to believe that you truly hated me.
One time is all it took for my hand to hurt, you kept hitting me though.
One time you left me in a parking lot and hid your car so I couldn’t see you, I was scared every time I went into the store from then on, you said it was funny.
One time I self-harmed in my bedroom, it became an addiction after that.
One time I stole something from my cousin and I kept stealing, I needed your attention.
You wouldn’t listen to me; you wouldn’t hold me.
The words I love you wasn’t said much.
I love you, do you hear me?
I don’t hate you.
Things need to change though.
I can’t keep living in fear, I can’t see grandma cry because of what you said to me.
Grandma blames herself, she thinks it’s her fault.
I need you, I need my mom.

I don’t want to have to explain to my kids what the scars are on my wrist.
Will these scars stay on my skin forever and haunt me?
I need you tonight, are you here? I need a hug.
I don’t want people to stare at me, acting like I’m not a human being.
When you stare at me, I’m afraid you will see my imperfections.
I don’t want you to run away, I want you to stay please.
Don’t leave me alone to face this world.
I need you, please stay.
You are the reason I wake up; you are the reason I keep going.
I have felt the urge to self-harm so many times, but I don’t.
I stop myself somehow, I stop because I have to.
I stopped for you.

My world is too dark, I can’t see.
My world is spinning to fast, I can’t breathe.
I feel like I can’t trust anyone anymore.
Every time you text me, I’m hoping it says you still love me and that you made a mistake.
I wanted things to work out.
I have been hurt to many times, I don’t remember all of them anymore.  
I try to block it out, it does no good to remember.
It still haunts me though.

When I ******* I try to think of straight guys,
I think about you though.
I don’t want to; I know it’s wrong.
My mom will judge me, even though she says she will be ok with whoever I end up with.
My family will think I’m wrong.
I have a hard time of going to church, because I think about what they would say if they found out.
I don’t want to be labeled.
I wish I didn’t feel this way, I don’t want these confusing thoughts and have to worry about what people will say.
Will you look at me differently once you find out?
I don’t know who to tell, I don’t know how to say it.
I think about her, I love her.
Is this normal? will I ever think the way I once did again?

I have my favorite cd’s on, with my snacks on my bed.
I am searching the internet for poetry that gives me chills.
I’m waiting until I’m tired so I can sleep and maybe even dream.
I hope I can dream about beautiful things.
I wish you were here laying in my bed, I wish we could snuggle.
I wish you could put your arm around me.
I want to wake up with you in my bed.
I miss you.

Look at me, my skin has dealt with a lot.
Scars and bruises fill my body.
My body is fragile, it breaks and bruises easily, that doesn’t stop you from hitting me.
Scars are on my wrist; it doesn’t stop me from cutting though.

Put the key in the ignition, check your mirror and adjust your seat.
You’re ready to drive right?
Turns the radio on and switches the channel to rock and roll.
Rolls down the windows, I’m ready to drive.
I  pull out of the driveway, I said I’ll see you later to my parents I told them I loved them.
Ding, Ding, Ding what is that sound?
Is it a new message on my phone?
A sound outside maybe?
It’s the alarm telling me I don’t have a seat belt on, it doesn’t matter nothing will happen.
I said goodbye to everyone, no one will miss me if something does happen.
My brother is in the car though,
I crash my car it’s over.
I yell and scream help my brother.
Blood is dripping down; the windows are smashed.
He’s dead, my brother is dead.
I should have told him to wear his seat belt. I was his big sister; I was responsible for him.
I'm sorry.

Throw a coin in the wishing well, close your eyes and wish for something.
I think of a million things I want.
I think of things I need.
I wish for my birth family to be in my life again.
I know I didn’t wish for candy
I didn’t wish for a guy to come back in my life.
I didn’t wish for world peace.
If you had the chance what would you wish for?

I listen to music wondering if I will make it.
Will I make it another day?
I close my eyes and try to imagine my future, I see nothing but darkness.
I wonder if I will live a long life?
I’m fantasying a lot about death these days.
I need to relive this stress.
I try to distract my mind from this pain.
I sit with my parents and hear them talk about their day.
They went to a few stores, I didn’t go.
I didn’t want to face the world today, I couldn’t not today.
Maybe I will go somewhere tomorrow.
I think about how my parents would feel if they knew I cut, I need to tell them.
I’m putting it off, how do you bring up something like this?
I have to tell them; I have tried recovery.
I can’t do it alone.
I’m hoping they will understand.
I don’t want to hurt them; I don’t want to cause them more pain.
I’m ****** up, they have had to do so much for me already.
I wanted to be a good kid.
I don’t want them to regret their choice of adopting me.
Because I feel like my mom does regret her choice of adopting me.

He sat with her until she fell asleep, she knew who he really was.
He loved the girl and she loved him so much and even though things were falling apart with her family, she knew she had him and it all seemed to feel ok knowing that.
He told her to sleep.
But before she closed her eyes she thought about everything.
She was in his life for the moment she hoped she always would be. Even if she is not she is grateful for his existence here on earth.
Because he touches people lives, makes people smile and laugh.
Even though his life wasn’t the greatest no one knew but her of what he really had to go through.
She slowly closed her eyes while he lay next to her singing softly.

I smiled at you, you frowned at me.
I loved you, you hated me.
I tried to make things work, once you finally put toward effort I gave up.
You screamed, I self-harmed.
You said you hated me, I wondered if you really did.
I asked if you were ok, you said you were doing great while I was dying inside.
You say I’m fat, you told me the whole family thinks I’m fat.
You said you never lied to me, you did though, you lied.
I trusted you, you kept pushing me away. I did the same I was tired of trying to make you love me.
I cried and you never wiped away my tears.
I tried hugging you, you said you never got hugs growing up.
Affection is a good thing don’t you know that?
I’m sorry, I’m sorry for everything.

Once when I was a little kid, I had a bad dream.
I called for my dad, I said daddy, daddy come here please.
I told him I had a bad dream.
He sat down on my bed and said I have the perfect solution.
He told me, when I close my eyes and the monsters come into my dreams spray them with a magical spray.
He said, it gets rid of monsters instantly.
If they don’t go away he said, I can always call him.
I never had to though, I used the magical spray he talked about when monsters came around.
When I became older though and I had demons haunting my head, the spray didn’t work.
I didn’t feel like I could talk to my dad.
I was lost and things were getting worse.
I stopped calling him, I cried and fought my bad dreams alone when I got older.
Where did you go dad?

This room has so many memories.
My cousin and I use to play games in this room.
I remember getting all the junk food out of the kitchen and spreading it across the bed in this room.
I remember waking up in the morning and trying to pick out what to wear out of the closet in the room.
I remember when no one was home, I blasted the music and danced in this room.
I remember being excited the first time I saw this room, it’s beautiful.
My mom painted this room, she painted it orange and yellow.
With hand painted flowers on the wall.
I’m scared to change the room; I’m scared I will forget what has happened in this room.
But, things change and it is time to make this room different.
This is my last night in my old room full of beautiful and sad memories.
I can make new memories though.
This will be a good change; this will be a fresh start.

Be pretty she said, wear clothes that are revealing so guys will look.
I don’t feel pretty even when people say I am, I don’t know why I always felt like this.
Second grade, I was wearing coats to hide my body.
Third grade, the teachers hated me.
Fourth grade, I was stealing trying to get attention from my parents
My family was falling apart and I was tired.
Fifth grade, they pulled me out of public school, I don’t remember much from this year.
Years started blending together and nothing mattered anymore.
When I was 13 I started self-harming no one knew what I was doing.
I skipped meals I thought it was a good idea at first.
I’m sorry I have been so much trouble mom, I didn’t mean to be.

Mirrors scattered along the land I see my full reflection in the mirror.
I walk further and deeper into the dark the glass starts shattering.
I no longer can see my full reflection.
I walk a different way, I’m still in the dark.
I start running, the mirrors don’t look the same anymore.
I fall down, tears come out of my eyes, I lay down on the broken glass.
I wish I could see my reflection, I want to remember how I looked.
I want to remember who I was before the dark took over.