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?

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.

She was hanging there by a rope; she is a corpse.
She had a beautiful blue dress on and her hair was done, she wanted to look nice.
She is hanging by her window she was hoping someone would see her,
That’s all she ever wanted is for someone to see her, she felt invisible.
She thought about death, she never thought she would do it though.
She wrote a note, explaining why she killed herself, explaining why she had scars on her wrist.
Because everyone thought she was fine, no one knew she self- harmed on her wrist.
I’m sorry I had to do this, please forgive me. No one would find her, no one would care.

I remember when we were little kids.
We use to play with dolls in your mother’s front yard, until we got tired.
You got out your bike and tried to teach me how to ride, but I never learned I fell.
In the Summer when it was warm we played in the sprinkler, until it got to warm.
In Autumn we played in the colorful leaves, until your mom yelled and said rake the leaves.
In the Winter we played in the snow making snowmen, we had snowball fights and when we got cold your mom would make hot chocolate and give us warm blankets out of the dryer.
We played Battleship and Monopoly until we fell asleep.
Sometimes on the weekends if I were there, we would wake up before your parents and watch cartoons. We would eat Lucky Charms and Coco Puffs.

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.

A new life was born, it’s a girl.
Her birth mom kept her for 5 months of her life.
She decided to give her up for adoption.
The girl was adopted by this family.
Her dad held her and said you will never be alone again.
She was loved for now, but things changed.
Her mom was on and off her medication most of her life.
The girl spent most of her time with her aunt and grandma.
The girl met her birth family things didn’t work out, she was sad.
The girl stated cutting and she stopped eating.
She wrote her birth family letters so if they ever met again it would feel like they didn’t miss anything.
She is struggling with the loss still, the first few years were hard.

My mother bought me new sheets and a comforter.
I didn’t ask her to get me new sheets or a new comforter.
It’s nice, I love the color.
It's a beautiful blue comforter, it's very warm.
She said she will paint my walls a different color, my walls have been the same way for 10 years.
10 years, it has been orange and yellow walls with hand painted flowers on the wall.
I’m grateful of course, It’s nice to know she is thinking about me.
She seemed even a little excited, I guess she needs a new art project so she decides to finally paint my walls.
I hope she really does it, it seems like it will be a nice change.
Thank you mom.

Rows of machines filled the room.
Loud sounds and flashing lights.
Hundreds of people all there for the same thing.
I won enough that night to fix my car.
The first time felt like a high.
I was winning, I felt like I was providing for my family.
Night after night I went back, it became an addiction.

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.

Mama please don’t hurt me anymore.
I remember when you hit me with a remote, it ******* up my hand for weeks.
You said I wasn’t worth your money.
You told me he didn’t love me, you made me believe he stopped caring, I believed you.
I measured my wrists and made sure I didn’t gain weight.
Fat, *****, gross, smelly, pig. Those are the words you called me.
You say sorry, you aren’t though.
You say I hate you, yeah in a way I do.
But you hate me too.

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.

He was laying there in the hospital bed, he looked tired.
I didn’t think he would die,
He had one wish, he wanted someone to hold his hand while he passed.
So I did, I held his hand hoping he knew I was there.
I went back into the lobby, I sat in a chair waiting until there was more news.
Tick tock, tick tock, I look at the clock.
I see this woman with a child crying.
I go back into the room where he is,
It seems like hours pass, I walk around the room and wait.
I look at him, I slowly walk towards his bed and I lay with him to feel closer.
I hold him, I listen to his heart until it stops.

The lights are out; I can’t see anything.
The town is quiet; everyone is sleeping besides me.
I walk the streets of this little town I grew up in.
I see corn fields.
I see the library I use to love.
I see the local high school where dreams come true.
This town makes me sad because you’re not here anymore.
I want to see you again but that means I would have to go to heaven.
You had dreams of getting out of this town and doing something better, you said I could come with you to New York, we could travel the world.
Reality hits and I realize I’m not going anywhere so I lay down in the corn field and enjoy the stars.
We use to look at the stars together.
I miss you.

Every night I wish I could wake up somewhere else,
But every morning I am still here.

You’re not a kid anymore, your all grown up.
I’m only 15 though, but you act like I’m 21.
I drink to hide the pain.
I cut myself to release the pain, it’s an addiction now.
A few years ago I had life planned, but now it’s all blurry and I just struggle to get out of bed.
I just want everything to stop, Breathe. Just breathe.
How do I look at people? I let people down.
None of this matters now, I never mattered.
I still want to believe in a future but I’m stuck in this nightmare.

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.

I hurt when I saw him, my brain went dead and I couldn’t speak.
He looked perfect, I wanted to talk to him but I knew I couldn't.

Little girl I know you have had a hard life.
You say you’re sorry and you shy away from the world.
Little girl I know you were abused.
I know your birth family didn’t want you.
Little girl I know you tried to make things work with your mother.
Little girl I know you love your grandma more than yourself.
Little girl I know you were bullied in school.
Little girl you aren’t so little anymore.
You are a teenager now.
I know suicide consumed your thoughts when you turned 12.
I know the voices in your head became louder, when you didn’t have anyone to talk to.
I know knifes and razors became your friend at age 13.
I know you were still abused and you wanted to get out of your parents’ home.
I know you wanted someone to listen to you.
I know how hard your life is, because I’m you.

I want to be normal
I want to feel like I mean something to someone.
I don’t want to be floating around from house to house.
I'm sorry we can't get along.
I’m sorry I don’t love you anymore.
I wish things could have worked out, I tried with you.
I didn’t mean to hurt you.
Things will never be the same.

I’m not crazy I swear;
My mind isn’t all here though.

Is it alright if I say, I love you?
Because I really need you to know how I feel tonight before it’s too late.

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.

Children cry and sometimes get lost.
Bumps, bruises, scars, and sickness.
If your lucky parents are there to kiss you.
Dreams and Innocence.
Disney Princess.
Dolls.
No worry in the world.
Playing Barbie’s on the porch.
Riding bikes in the street.
Life is good.
Then you get older and things get hard, sometimes if your lucky things are still ok.
That wasn’t the case for me.

I told him I’m on day 11 of not self-harming.
He seemed like he didn’t care, I’m sorry I told you.
I thought you would be interested in knowing since you said you loved me.
He agreed with me when I said it doesn’t matter how many days I have stopped I will always be a cutter.
He said yep, he agreed.
So, if I will always be labeled as a cutter and the world will continue to see me that way, why shouldn’t I continue slicing up my arms and wrists and be what people will always see me as.
Recovery is challenging I should know, why waste all that time when I could be feeling high.
Why stop my unhealthy habit if I love it?
Why stop if you will see me as a cutter for the rest of my life any way?

Every time I swallow one of your excuses I lose a piece of myself.
If you don’t want to go out with me, tell me don’t give me an excuse.
Every time you go out with another girl, I confront you.
You say I’m not good enough and that you need a girl who cares.
I care, I care about you even when you hit me and told me I was a *****.
I won’t leave and you know that.
You make me feel like I can’t live without you.
Your right I can't live without you, I can't buy clothes or make my own choice of what I want to eat without asking you.

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?

It's 3am I'm still up.
The moon is out and the stars are shinning.
We just now stopped texting, we have been talking all day.
When you said you needed sleep, I told you I will miss you.
I said good night sleep well.
You called me sweetheart and babe tonight, yes I noticed.
I feel high you made me *** 2 times.
I'm listening to music now and writing to you in the hope I wont miss you so much.
When will we talk again? Hopefully soon.

I loved drinking water on an empty stomach I waited for the water to slip down my throat.
I'm empty,
I’m cold, in a warm room.
I’m fat.
I want food, no you don’t need it. I love not eating.
78 calories 1 large egg.
95 calories 1 medium apple.
45 calories 1 small orange.
Eat it, throw it all up after.

I have loved, Now I have lost the love of my life.
I’m done loving people, at least for now.
My heart is broken.

She couldn’t be fixed completely; she was full of broken pieces.
Broken pieces will always be a part of her.
No matter how hard he tried and no matter how much effort he put into her, she would always remain the same.
She would smile and laugh with him.
She was very happy, but she would always be broken.

She was walking up and down rows of graves.
Looking carefully at the names and when they died.
Was she looking for someone?
No she wasn’t this is one of her hobbies, to visit graves.
She is fascinated with death.

Broken Glass
Dismantled sharpeners
Razors
Knives
Box Cutters
The things I use to hurt myself.
Cut my wrist one, two, three times.
If I do it right red blood drips out.
It washes away my mistakes, it helps me it really does.
I get a high every time I cut my wrist.
I do it in the most obvious place, why hasn’t anyone noticed?
-written by a cutter that's been broken for 5 years and has a knife, razor and broken glass collection in my room.

My aunt was cleaning out my grams closet and couldn’t find anything red to wear.
She was looking for a red dress, for me to wear to prom.
I guess I had no choice in the matter.
Red dress, why red?
Why did my aunt insist on me wearing red?
Why were we looking in my gram’s closet? Why weren’t they looking through my clothes?
Why were they looking at all? Isn’t is my job to pick out something?
I wanted a yellow dress, a beautiful long yellow dress.
I have a yellow dress, it’s my favorite, but I don’t want to wear it now.
I’m saving it for my funeral, I want to be buried in my yellow dress I already have.