I imagine myself in a meadow sitting in beautiful purple and yellow flowers.
I see a river flowing and I see the tress swaying from the wind.
I look outside my bedroom window again my beautiful meadow is gone.
This time I see, houses and kids playing in the street.
I see cars pulling out of driveways.
When will I see my beautiful meadow again and drift off into my imaginary world?

The mirror is foggy; I can’t see my naked body.
I suppose that’s good, at least I don’t have to hate myself in the mirror this morning.
But when the mirror isn’t foggy anymore, I will have to turn around so I can’t see myself.  
I’m ugly, who could ever look at me and love me?

Sad Poems.
Sad Girl.
Sad World.
There is no light, I see only darkness.
I can’t remember the last time I was ok.
Eating Disorder.
Self-Harming.
Binge eating junk food.
I can't remember the last time I didn't do those things.

Sometimes the word no isn’t always heard.
He looked at me and put his hand down my pants tonight.
I was drunk, I took his hand and pulled it out of my pants.
I said no.
He didn’t care, I understand not all guys are like this.
He pulled me closer and I tried to get up and walk away.
I screamed, no one heard me.
He put his **** inside of me.
I said no again.
He should have stopped, but he didn’t.
I slowly closed my eyes, thinking of something beautiful.
Please someone help me.

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.

Little girls and little boys bundled up in promises and loving hearts.
Teenagers struggling to survive.
Suicide is the killer; teens think that’s the best way.
I can’t really speak for all teens though.
I wasn’t bundled up in promises that were going to be kept.
I had a loving heart but it is broken now.
Suicide isn’t my killer, although it might have been.

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.

Stain glass fills the room; I always loved looking at it.
Seats fill the room also; a cross is on the wall.
I felt so safe here at one time.
I always wanted to come here, this use to feel like home.

Can you teach me how to fly?
I have fallen so many times.
Don’t be scared to help me.
I’m broken inside, believe you will be fine.
I won’t let you touch the broken pieces of my life, I don’t want you cut.
Please help me fly.
Please don’t be scared of me.

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.

I’m afraid no one hears me.
I’m afraid no one will listen to my words.
I’m afraid that my writing will be forgotten.
I’m afraid you won’t miss me.
I will never be a famous writer.
My life will be too short; I will never get to live.
The abuse ruled my life.
The cutting made my life a living hell, I wanted to stop. I really did want to stop I promise.
I’m sorry if this is the last thing I write.
I never meant to hurt you, I wanted to love you forever.

I have your picture, framed and hanging on the wall.
You seem happy in this picture, it’s right before things got hard for you.
I take your picture off the wall and bring it into bed with me, it feels like you’re here that way.
Sometimes I talk to you through the glass frame and touch your photographed face.
I love you, please come back to me.

I thought if I cut my hair short, I would have confidence.
My grams said guys don’t like girls who have short hair.
I thought if I cut my hair I would be happy.
My mom said it was short but cute. I’m sure she really hates it.
I thought if I cut my hair I would smile more.
A friend of mine didn’t recognize me, she said your hair is so different.
I thought if I cut my hair I would want to wear makeup and be pretty.
A lady I know said it looks like I lost 50 pounds with my new hairstyle.
I thought if I cut my hair guys would like me more.
No one is use to my hair yet.
I thought I liked my hair, why shouldn’t I like it?

He yelled, a little louder each time.
He was yelling my name.
He was yelling and my world came crashing down.

Unzip me now, take away all the layers do you see it? My heart is underneath. Please look at it for me, touch my heart see if it’s still alive. Love my heart it won’t be broken that way, I need you.
My heart is broken from your lies
My heart is broken because of your broken promises
My heart is broken because you keep pushing me down, don’t say you hate me maybe my heart will be fixed.
My heart is broken do you see it? Unzip my skin further take away more layers.
Do you see it now?
My heart is broken I can’t stand the pain.
Look at what you did it’s all your fault.
Daddy tried so hard to keep you together he lied and said you didn’t mean it when you called me a *****.
My heart is broken and you won’t be the one to fix it, I know that.

I blame myself for taking my father’s life away.
I’m sorry daddy, I’m sorry I had to be your little girl.

I decided to wear a short sleeve shirt today since it was hot.
I was going to a church cook out.
I didn’t really want to go, but I did.
I thought it would be fun, I had a good attitude about it.
Something happened though, this guy came up to me.
He said you’re a cutter, he saw my scars and cuts.
I had band aids on them, they were coming off though a little.
He said you’re a cutter and then laughed.
Why did he laugh?
Was it funny to him?
Did he just not know what to say?
I have had people stare at me before.
I have had people comment on my weight.
But no one has said anything about my self-harm scars and cuts.
I guess he thought it was funny.
I don’t find it funny.
I’m glad this day is over.

My scars will fade and all will be forgotten. Right?
I hope once my scars fade I don’t remember why I started self-harming.
I hope I don’t remember anything, I hope everything really will be forgotten

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.

I woke up this morning, the sun greeting me happily.
I rubbed my eyes and for some reason I started thinking about you.
I started thinking about you, I’m worried I can’t remember what you use to call me.
Am I forgetting finally? Is it over, will I no longer be tortured by your memory?

She called me Honey Bee, that was my nickname.
If I could hear her call me that one more time I would be happy.
If I could touch her beautiful hair one more time, I would be happy.
If I could tell her I’m sorry and say I love her, I would be happy.
If I could tell her how much she means to me, I would be happy.

She stands there letting the water go down her body.
She closes her eyes, listening to the water coming out of the shower head.
She hopes the water will wash away the day.
She cries, she lies and says her eyes are red from soap getting in her eyes.

It hurts to smile, I’m tired.
I want to die today, what’s new.
I’m sorry I’m not happy again mom.
I want to be your little girl again, even then I wasn’t happy though.
I try to hurt myself on the outside, to **** my demons in the inside.
I hadn't realized I would still be addicted to harming the outside of my body after 3 years.
I want everything to be ok, it never has been though and it never will be.
I have lost hope.

I don't know if you experienced abuse before in any form.
You are scared to the point of checking your phone because if you miss a message they will punish you with twenty more saying you should answer right away.
You’re afraid to eat because of something that they will say.
Your scared when you wake up and when your breathing.
You cry yourself to sleep.
When the abuser acts normal and loving you stay because you love them and their old self is showing.
You enjoy those moments where it seems peaceful because it helps you get through the bad parts of when the abuse happens.
If the abuser acts nice your scared because you want it to last so you don't say anything and they think your behavior is weird.
I feel so lost and dizzy, I don’t know what is true anymore.

I can’t **** myself because my sadness would be over.
I can’t **** myself, because I would never be able to cut myself again.
I can’t **** myself because people would think I’m a coward if I did.
My sadness would be over though; I would no longer feel.
I wouldn’t be able to cut myself anymore, I wouldn’t be able to leave more scars for my mom to see on my corpse if I killed myself.
If I killed myself, cuts wouldn’t fill my arm anymore.
If I killed myself, my parents wouldn’t be able to fight over me.
If I killed myself, my grandma wouldn’t have to worry about if I made it or not after she died.
If I killed myself, I wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone anymore, I wouldn’t be able to hurt you.
If I killed myself, I wouldn’t ever see your angry eyes and  hear your voice raising higher and higher.
If I killed myself, there would be an empty seat at the table, we never sit at.
Death sounds inviting doesn’t it?
Do I have enough courage to **** myself though?
I would never go to my first job interview.
I would never learn to drive.
I would never be able to disappoint you again.
If I killed myself, you would cry.
You would be sad; you would keep living though.
The whole world would keep going, everything would be the same. Nothing would change and no one’s world would stop if I killed myself.

The child is crying, she is helpless.
People are yelling at her.
She is trying to grab onto her mother.
I couldn’t handle the screaming, I heard a lot of it when I was younger.
I didn’t want to scream; I didn’t want to say anything.
I’m as bad as the people who abused me.
I’m no better I watched her cry, I didn’t pick her up.
I’m so sorry.

I was sitting enjoying my breakfast this morning.
My uncle, aunt and cousin and my cousin’s husband plus there two kids were there.
A full table, all eating and laughing.
We were enjoying the morning, I was even talking and listening to everyone.
One of my cousin’s kids started crying.
She is 2, she was tired or still hungry who knows really.
One of the people made a comment at the table and said **** is she on her period.
Believe me, I was shocked at this statement.
I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet.
I’m not overreacting, I think it was rude to have said that.
First off, she is too young to be having periods, even if she were older it wouldn’t matter.
So, you think if women cry, or are moody you assume were on our period.
Maybe were moody because were tired, or maybe were not having a good day.
Maybe were ******* because of the comments we have to hear about our bodies.
Am I overreacting?
Was it alright for him to say **** is she on her period?

Depression.
Depression took over my mom’s life.
Suicide attempt.
Bullied when she was younger.
Made fun of because her mom couldn’t always afford nice clothes.
My mom went to college and became a nurse.
She didn’t see me grow up, she was to worried about her job.
My mom wanted a divorce from my father, the first time I heard them fight about it was when I was 13.
Pills.
No sleep.
Barely eating.
My mother stayed in her bedroom most of the time.
Sometimes she made me breakfast though.
When I was little I use to want to sit at the kitchen table, my mom always said no, she had bad memories from when she was a child at the table.
Be careful what you say, she might get mad.
I love my mother even if she doesn’t always remember she loves me.
She has told me she hates me 3 times, she doesn’t remember saying that.

A little cut here, a little cut there.
No one will notice.
No one cares.
Hide the scars with band- aids and sleeves.
Cutting is the only time I feel alive.
I wont do it anymore I promise, lie.

It’s hard at night, when I go to bed alone.
I keep the other side of the bed open, acting like someone will climb into bed with me.
Red flames fell out of the candle on my table I watched from my empty bed.
A starry night soaked in the rain. I felt so cold to sit alone, there was no one to talk to tonight.
When I wake up, I wake up alone knowing no one will make me breakfast.
I don’t have anyone to kiss goodbye before I go to work.
I don’t have anyone to hold at night.
I try to push on yet I had no strength left.
This incident gave me a wish, it’s all centered on you. I wish we weren’t single in our distant life.

I have done my best to avoid this house.
I didn’t like it here, I never have.
I was always with someone else, or sleeping somewhere else.
I haven’t been to this house in 3 months.
I really wish I hadn’t come back.
I had no choice, I had to come back.
I want to get out of here and never come back.

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.

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.

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.

I hear kids talk about their parents, how awful it is because they didn’t let them have ice cream.
I hear kids talk about their parents, how they can’t get along, how they wish they were 18 so they could get away from them. When they are really just trying to love you.
Someone told me what I was going through wasn’t abuse.
There right it’s not abuse, my mom hitting me with a remote can be called an accident.
My mom saying, she hates me, can be blamed on me she was stressed.
I was offered help by someone I knew, someone who could get me away from the abuse.
I didn’t want to hurt my mom and dad though; I didn’t want them to lose everything.
A part of me knows they really are abusing me.
They love me right? What if the person abusing you is your own parents?
Is it tough love? Could they really just be abusing me? Why is that so hard to comprehend.
If a girl or guy gets in an abusive relationship, right away people run to help if there lucky of course.
Why can’t this case be abuse?
Why can’t I leave them?
I love them, I love my abusers that’s why I can’t leave.

Nothing will change, it will never change it will all be the same.
That’s why I want to get away.
She will never get help, I’m stupid to think she would.
I was hoping she would, I wanted things to work.
While I was waiting for things to change, I hung onto things from the past trying to remember when things were ok.
Was it ever ok?
I don’t remember it ever being ok, not once, not ever. Not even a little.
I’m tired of everything, I want everything to end.
You said talk things out maybe you won’t self-harm that way, I did try to talk to someone.
I’m numb.

When is this all going to change?
I’m hungry, cold, and tired.
I don’t know where I’m going to be sleeping next.
I don’t have a home a place where I feel safe and warm.
My family is falling apart; they act like they will live forever.
Make up don’t fight anymore! I’m tired of dealing with your problems.
I’m dying inside and someday there will be nothing left, my soul will die and it will be all over.

Another day passes by, while you watch others live.
All you seem to do is cry; You are broken, you are tired.
Your life is passing by you don’t care anymore.
You would **** yourself if it didn’t hurt your family, you can’t put your mom through more pain though.

I wanted to keep sleeping this morning.
I was thinking of things to convince myself to get out of bed.
Finally I got up, I rubbed my eyes.
The beautiful bright sun was shinning through my windows.
I love the sun, it's warm.
I checked my emails and I messaged a few people.
I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.
I didn't look long, bad thoughts would start flooding my brain.
I would think I'm fat and ugly.
I made some tea, cinnamon and apple was the flavor.
My dad was already up, I said hi.
I asked if there were any eggs, he said no.
But he offered me cereal, I really was trying not to have a bad day with food.
So I ate something, nothing much but I ate.
I'm going to start my day now.

This world is full of sorrow, how sad can this world get?
How sad can this world get before happiness takes over?
What has to happen before happiness is the norm and not something you occasionally see.
A sad story happens and everyone gets use to it.
People forget about how it can be.
I haven't forgotten, I haven't forgotten anything.
I don't know how much more I can take.

I’m tired of this world, it’s so hard to breath at times.
It’s hard for me to get out of bed.
It’s hard to go out and see people.
I’m tired don’t you see I want to sleep?
Leave me alone please.
If I don’t talk, no one can get mad about what I say.
If you don’t listen I won’t be heard, that’s fine no one has listened to me any way.
You are all too busy, you say I need to talk to someone I have tried.
I have tried to talk to people, nothing changes.
I don’t feel better, don’t ask if you can do anything for me, you know you can’t.
Don’t pretend, you don’t care about me.
Keep the curtains closed, the sun hurts my eyes, it’s too bright.
Darkness is my friend.
Sleeping pills have ran through my mind today, if I take enough I’m dead.
I’m tired of you, my head hurts I’m stressed.
I can’t sleep tonight, I never sleep.

I feel like I’m dying each day.
I feel like I’m suffocating, no one is there to help me breath.
Sometimes I feel so bad.
It’s an overwhelming feeling.
Do you see me?
Have I become invisible?

When I close my eyes at night, I see you.
I dream about you sometimes.
I love you, you are my angel.
Your wings are white with a hint of black.
You are my fallen angel.
You were once so full of life.
Always had a smile, where did it go?
I'm sorry, I know you want to be who you use to be.

Never find fault in yourself, you were created in perfection. In the image of God.
Never be normal, be different. That makes you special. It makes you who you are.
Never hide in the shadows, shine in the light that is waiting for you.
You may be in darkness, but you are not alone. There are those who are walking beside you. You can feel their presence, their aura.
Close your eyes and concentrate on the love our aura gives. Feel yourself drawn to warmth of hugs and close embraces. Feel the hands holding you. Fall into us. Find comfort and peace. Then put the knife down and sleep in our embrace.

I saw a group of girls tonight, they were thin, of course beautiful.
I was anxious and scared, I didn’t know what to do.
Plan A, run away fast so they don’t have time to see you at all.
Plan B, keep your head down and walk past them.
I have heard people laugh when I walked by.
I have had people whisper and look at me before.
I have had a girl say your fat right in my face.
I didn’t want to judge these girls; I didn’t know them.
If I walked by, they could laugh or make jokes about me.  
But I walked by them with my head held high, they said nothing, they didn’t laugh.
I think one girl even smiled at me.

Dad messaged me yesterday around 5.
I thought this drama was over.
He said listen carefully, so I did.
He said, I have 2 choices.
I can come home Sunday, or have grandma take legal guardianship of me.
No middle ground he said.
If I go back to my parents’ home, he said I won’t see grams except for the weekend.
He has said all this before.
This time feels different though.
He said make a decision after I read his messages, I was supposed to message him right after.
I told him this is a life alerting choice, a decision I can’t make alone.
I told him I would be at the house on Sunday though, what else could I have said?
I went to my aunt’s house yesterday, to get her opinion on it.
I’m getting a lawyer, I’m ready to live life.

It’s in the past, it’s history.
I remember when it happened, seems so long ago.
My heart still hurts and I cry sometimes when I’m reminded of what happened.
Somehow I have kept going and I have lived.
I’m breathing and eating.
It’s in the past, I still remember though.

I remember the night we met.
I remember I use to keep you up all night and we use to sleep during the day.
I remember the first time we talked on the phone, you said my voice reminded you of Minnie Mouse.
I remember the first time I heard you laugh, your laugh reminds me of John Candy.
You said, I love you first.
I remember when I gave you an ultimatum.
You left for 2 weeks, no messages, no texts, no phone calls or emails.
I didn’t think you would come back but you did.
I said sorry and you forgave me.
I love you, I know I can be stubborn sometimes.
I know I don’t always think before I say things.
You make me laugh and giggle so hard sometimes you make my cheeks hurt.
You are my oxygen, I know that’s dangerous if you are my air supply, what if you decide to leave again?
Will I be able to breath?

I hugged you for the first time in 3 months.
You smelled good.
You smelled of sweat pea and vanilla.
The blue shirt you had on tonight, it smelled like your cookies and it smelled like dad.
I wish I could have kept hugging you.
I love you.