I'm broken, yes.
I’m getting worse, the days seem longer and I look forward to the time where I can lay my head down and sleep.
Sometimes I can’t sleep though, it all started 5 years ago.

I died inside, I would cry so hysterically as if it would bring him back to life.
I needed him, he had always been there.
He will never hold me again.
He will never come home with flowers for me.
He will never smile.
He’s dead, I’m alone.
I love you, someday we will see each other again.

If it were winter forever, I would be happy.
I would wear sweater’s and sweat pants every day.
If it were winter forever, I could hide my scars more easily.
If it were winter forever, I wouldn’t have to make excuse of why I’m wearing a long sleeve shirt or covering my arms with Band-Aids.
I have a feeling that you know I self-harm but you haven’t said anything to me.
If it were winter forever, I could make snow angels.
If it were winter forever, we could play in the snow all day long.
If it were winter forever, we could make igloos and drink hot chocolate made by your mother.
If it were winter forever, we could wear snow boots and have our skin be cold.
If it were winter forever I would be happy.

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 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.

She said hooray you ate your lunch today.
It reminded me of how you would praise a child for doing something good.
Only she said it to me, I’m almost 16.
I’m not angry that she said hooray, it was nice to hear her voice and see her smile.
I’m not upset, why would I be?
I ate my lunch, that’s a good thing.

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.

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.

Sometimes when I look into my mom’s eyes, it feels like I don’t know her, it feels like evil has taken over.

Girl and Girl.
Boy and Boy.
Girl and Boy.
Who cares, who people love.
As long as your happy.
I broke my family apart with the person I chose to love.
No one thought it was a good idea.
My grandma thought it was gross.
My mom swore she would love me no matter who I choose, she lied.
As long as your happy, my mom said she would be happy.
I was happy, I was happy with my choice.
People thought it was a faze, that I really couldn’t be happy with my choice.
The name calling started.
I got punished for my choice.

Suicide, my killer.
Anorexia, my friend.
Razors and knifes, a tool to cut my wrist.
Pens, they smear, I hate them. Paper, once you write on paper it’s official.
I have things holding me down, life is depressing.
Yes, I smile and laugh, it never lasts.
I’m sorry grandma.
I’m sorry mom.
Apologizes are forgiven, but it happens over and over and they say sorry. You keep forgiving.
I’m tired of living, it’s hard.

Pretty girl, you are going to be 16 soon.
Imagine being gathered with family and celebrating your birthday, it’s hard to imagine it hasn’t happened in years.
Imagine a big birthday cake, saying Happy 16th Birthday Stephanie.
I don’t remember the last time I had a birthday cake, I don’t remember the last time I blew candles out and made a wish.
Unfortunately, this will the reality of your 16th Birthday, sitting alone in your room and feeling like cutting deep.
I will cut deep and then hide my cuts with a long sleeve shirt.
I feel like cutting today and not waiting for my birthday.

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.

The houses line the street, some big and some small.
Beautiful big trees are in every yard, orange and brown leaves falling off of them.
Kids are playing, a little girl is playing with chalk in her driveway.
Another child is learning to ride her bike on the sidewalk, her dad is so proud of her.
I see this girl, she is sitting in her front yard in the grass, she is beautiful.
She is wearing black jeans with a black long sleeve shirt on.
She has a book next to her.
Her eyes look sad, I wonder why?

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.

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 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.

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.

I need to know that two people can be happy together forever.
I want to see a couple who makes it, but is also happy.
I remember when I was little, I use to hear kids talk about how their parents are divorced.
I always said to kids, I’m lucky I have two parents.
But what kids didn’t know is that there was screaming and yelling.
Kids and teachers didn’t know how unhappy I was growing up because of my parents.
I was unhappy about a lot of things, I shouldn’t say I was unhappy solely because of my parents and how their relationship was.
I have never had a good example to lead me into the right direction, I never had a couple I could look up to and say I want to be like that when I grow up.
The relationships I have had fail because of one thing or another.
Every kid needs a good relationship, a good example to look up to.
I can’t say I have one and that might be why everything seems to crumble and fail.

You remind me of crystals.
You shimmer and shine.
You are beautiful, you don’t look human.
Your skin is cold, your never warm enough.
You are my best-friend.
You are only in my imagination.

Beaten, ******, and scared.
I’m tired, you think you can beat me.
You think it’s ok to smash my head into the wall until I’m ******.
I’m scared of you; I’m scared when I wake up.
I’m scared something I will say or do won’t be good enough for you.

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.

It's like the words of my mother haunt me, it haunts me in my sleep and in the day.
When she is my mother and she seems to care, it is easier to keep going. You live for the moments when things seem ok.

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.

8 days, 8 days I was living, breathing and sleeping.
8 days.
Ocho- meaning 8 in Spanish.
Acht- meaning 8 in German.
8 days since the last time I self-harmed.
8 days, isn’t that great?
I have had a few breakdowns and I have cried a lot in these 8 days.
I feel the urge to cut.
Feelings are overwhelming me.
I’m sad and happy, delusional and anxious.
I get nervous over the simplest things.
I can’t live.
Cutting, cutting was the way I dealt with things.
It was my habit, everyone has one.

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.

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?

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.

I had a bad night last night.
Texts from my mom saying grandma should raise me full time.
She said she will take me to probate court and sign away her rights as a mother.
Is she a mother? Could you really call her that?
My mom said it’s better this way for all involved.
It’s better for her if she wouldn’t have a daughter anymore?
My mom told me that my dad has missed me, he wanted to pick me up and bring me back.
My mother said I know you aren’t happy at our house.
You have lived with your grandma most of your life, of course she is going to make you happier.
Who’s fault is that? You sent me to grandma’s house when I was little because you didn’t want to deal with me.
My mother thinks I hate her, she acts like I haven’t made any effort to fix things.

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.

You came into my life 9 months ago, You changed me.
When we first met, you found me on the verge of death making a plan on how to die.
I was in pain, sometimes I felt like screaming.
I hide in the bathroom and turned on the water while I threw up so no one could hear me.
I cut my wrists and told myself I could stop, I was really addicted though.
You lifted me up, you showed me the light.
You said you wouldn't leave me, you did.
You always came back though.
You asked me do you know how much I love you?
I started smiling again.
My parents noticed a change, they started wanting me around again.
If something happens and you decide to leave, I want you to know you changed my life forever.
I will always remember you, I love you.

He said I’m a great poet.
Never stop writing he said, never.
He told me he loves my work, he said he loves me.
He made me feel something again.
I’m afraid to lose him, he means everything to me.
He has taught life lessons.
I’m different, I have changed people notice.
He helped me realize I’m beautiful.
I’m so much more confident.
I would of never wrote this much and pursued writing more if it weren’t for him.
I love him, I love him this is the best feeling in the world.

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.

She likes the smell of forgotten old books, the ones that are hidden in the library shelves.
She likes taking the books home and reading them all night long in her bed.
She will always take a book with her, no matter where she is going.
She can escape into fictional worlds, where she fights dragons and warlocks.
One day she hopes she can write a book, one day she hopes to inspire others.

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?

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.

Kids table, I’m sitting here with the kids, again.
I hear the adults sitting in the other room chatting.
I wish I could sit with the adults, I usually do but tonight I have to sit with my two cousins.
I’m bored, I sit slowly eating my food.
Looking around, my cousin starts laughing my other cousin is making weird sounds.
I start laughing also, I can’t stop laughing.
If you are sitting at the kids table, we should give you a warning.
It is messy at this table.
You will laugh about stupid ****.
You will feel like a child again, isn’t that a nice feeling?
Warning, you will never want to go back to the adult table after sitting with the kids.
Isn’t it funny how much I wish I were at the adults table?
Why would I want to sit with them?
The adults talk about politics and war.
Depressing isn’t it?
They talk about the news and a new mass shooting.
Adults, were once kids can you believe it?
Sometimes though it is nice to go back to your roots and sit with kids.
Kids will be honest with you; kids will tell you how it is.
Kids, they will laugh and **** without apologizing.
Kids haven’t been ruined by the world yet, not yet.
Hopefully they will never be ruined by the world.
I use to be a kid, I was ruined and I had a lot of life struggles.
Reality came too fast and ruined my childhood.
Sitting at the kids table helped me though, I'm glad I sat here tonight.

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.

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.

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?

My mom took pictures of me.
She used Photoshop on the photos.
Was I not good enough?
Was I not pretty enough that she had to use Photoshop.
The photos still look like me, but in a way don’t.
She made my pimples disappear she photo shopped my face.
She made my eyes look different.
Photo shop is my mom’s friend.
I know my mom doesn’t understand how much it bothers me.
It seems to make my mom happy though to make me pretty.

In the moment when he said it’s over, I couldn’t breathe.
I wondered how this happened.
Had I done something wrong?
I woke up, with the first thought being him.
I logged onto my computer, I was going to tell him I loved him.
I love you, I was going to tell him how much he meant to me.
Instead I got 3 messages saying it feels like were just friends.
He said sorry, I’m sorry I said.
I told him I didn’t feel like we were friends, I love him.
How does love disappear over night?
Had he been feeling this way for a while? why didn’t he tell me?
I should have handled It differently.
I’m sorry I couldn’t have been different.
I’m sorry I couldn’t have been your forever.
I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough.
I didn’t try hard enough, it’s too late.
I thought I was your inspiration.
Were friends, that's all we are now.
It's ok I don't mind, it's nice to be friends.
Someday, if you do change your mind and want me back.
I'll be here, I will be here waiting.

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.

Your willing to wait for me, you told me you would come here.
I’m worried that you and I won’t be together forever.
I’m afraid I will push you away.
I’m sorry if I do, I want us to be together forever.
Someone once told me how hard it was to sleep alone, I never truly understood how hard it truly was until I meet you.
I wish you were here.
I love you, someday I promise I will be there and then things will be ok.
Things will be ok for me, I will have you around and I will be out of my parents’ home.
I won’t have the pain and burden of being around my family.
I will try to make things ok between us, I know it won’t be perfect forever.
We will have our problems.

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.

My father got me a new cell phone, another new change.
I wish I could keep my old one, because your number is in my phone that I have now.
I can’t put your number in my new phone, my parents will think I still like you.
I can’t like you, I can’t.
I need to move on, I need to move on.
You were my first kiss, my first love.
My first heart break.
I love you, I always will in a way.
I can’t be with you, never.
People would think it’s wrong.
I can’t believe all you wanted was my body, I can't believe you would want my body at all.
You say you love me, but then we don’t talk for months. It’s not your fault I know.
I received a call telling me you were missing, my world stopped.
I couldn’t breathe and I was crying.
I was sobbing wondering if you were truly gone.
Hating you because I thought you had run away and left everything behind.
I thought you had left me. Did you leave me?
Is it over? Should I let go of you and leave you behind?
Should I leave all the conversations and promises behind and pretend they never existed?

I made it another day without you here with me.
I wonder how many more days I will have to go without you.
Sometimes I think about how my life was when you were here.
My life got worse and I stopped living after you weren’t here anymore.
I know you’re out there somewhere living life, breathing, eating and laughing.
While I mourn you, I will always miss you.
I will always love you.

She came home from school, she had to deal with bullies all day long.
She came home to her mom yelling, her mother was off her medications again.
Daddy was trying to calm my mother down, while saying hello to me when I walked in the door, I guess he didn't want her to feel left out.
In this situation she wouldn't mind if he didn't say hello, she wouldn't mind feeling invisible.
She goes to her room and gets a box off her shelf, It's full or razors.
She picks one out and walks out of her room, to the bathroom.
She looks in the mirror, she feels disgusted by what she sees.
She put headphones on and blasts the music high, she locks the bathroom door.
She climbs into the bathtub and starts cutting her wrists open.
One, two, three, four, five times she has cut.
Blood runs out, she lays in the bathtub.
She can't stop, she hits a vein, she screams it's all over.
She is a corpse in the bathtub of her parents home.

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.