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.

I count every calorie of every day
Hoping one day I will be as beautiful as you.
I need to lose weight, you told me I was fat, gross, and a *****.
You wonder why I’m so insecure.
I’m not allowed to get mad at you when you hit me and make me feel worthless.
I look in the mirror thinking of everything you have ever told me, I think about all my imperfections and my mistakes I have made.
Sometimes I think about what my daddy said and I think I’m strong enough to leave you, but I stay and you know I will.  
I whisper loving words in your ear at night.
Praying you will do the same one day.

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

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.

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.

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 stopped writing when I was 8, because my mom said I was no good.
Words are powerful, by her saying I was no good I stopped writing.
I never thought I would pick up another pen and write a poem again.
But I did write another poem again, I started writing again when I was 12.
I stopped again a year later when I was 13, the year I started self-harming.
I really thought I would never write again.
Until I was almost 14, a teacher I had encouraged me to write again.
I couldn’t imagine not writing now, I don’t know where I would be without it.

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.

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.

If you asked whether I’d live the same life again a year ago, I know I would have said no.
If you ask me now if I would live the same life again, I would, I want to live this life again.
Even though it has been hard, abusive and there has been a lot of tears so far.
There has also been happiness, I wouldn’t want to trade those happy moments.
The sad times have made me the person I am today, I’m ok with how life is now.
I’m living and getting better each day, I’m happy with that even if others aren’t.

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.

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.

The poem that once had a title, is now nameless.
It will be forgotten, no one will remember it now.
It no longer has an identity, it’s my fault.
I’m sorry.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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.

I’m tired, I wish I could sleep more.
I went to the bathroom, I looked in the mirror.
I practiced my fake smile, I might need it today.
Black clothes are my favorite, I put a black band t-shirt on.
I put my hair up, I look in the mirror again.
I see a broken hearted girl with parents who don’t love her.
I want to die; I don’t want to fight or struggle anymore.
I wanted to get away from my parents, I still do.
I don’t want to keep moving around.
I feel like a piece of furniture that people buy and then later sell.
My birth-family didn’t want me, my adoptive parents don’t want me do they?

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.

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 stared at myself in the mirror, I look like ****.
I didn’t sleep, nightmares took over last night.
It was horrible, I was shooting someone.
I was shooting someone I knew.
It’s very disturbing, I’m sorry if I’m not myself today.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Cold and tired, I’m hungry.
I need sleep it’s 4:32,I have been talking to you all night.
You make everything seem ok.
Text after text, talking about everything.
I want to hear your voice; I have fallen asleep to your voice before.
It’s 1:34 where you are, you need sleep, you’re not a night owl like me.
I love you, I’m going to sleep now.
Sweet dreams.

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.

The day is done, I’m tired.
I stayed up until 12, I do every night now.
I count down the hours until I can say I made it another day.
I made it another day it’s 12 o clock.
No cuts on my wrist.
I made it another day and I owe it all to you.
I love you, you have made life so bright, so special.
Even though we have not known each other long, I know I want to be with you for as long as I live.
I want to be able to snuggle with you someday.
Once I’m finally there with you, I want to whisper in your ear and say how much you truly mean to me.
Bad days and fights will come our way, we will figure it out though, I promise.
Good night, I love you.
We both made it another day.

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.

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.

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.

The victims deal with the abuse.
Then when they get enough courage to leave, they have to go into hiding.
Afraid every-time the phone goes off, that it is them.
Every-time someone knocks on the door, they wonder.
Have I been found? Will I have to move again?
When they go out, they look behind them constantly making sure no one is following them.
Careful to post any information on social media, so they cannot be cyber stalked by them.
A friend request on the internet makes them suspicious, wondering if that could be them.
Someone who is friendly sets off alarms, wondering if somehow this person could be related to their abuser.
The victim did not ask for any of this yet, the only way to survive is to leave and hide.
Forever wondering if they will be found and put through the abuse again.

Goodbye.
Wait.
I need to live, I need everyone to know my name.
I need people to know, how long I fought.
I need them to know, that they wounded me.
Everyone has to know my name.
Please, don't let me be gone and forgotten.

Wake me up.
I have had this dream before.
Tired eyes.
Wrinkle under eyes.
Tired body.
Stressed mind.
Please take me out of this dream, I can no longer live in this world I have created.
Where you are the Prince and do no wrong.
A glimpse of light crawled through the darkness and I saw the light, you were trying to hide me from.
I'm no longer yours.

Staying in the situation wasn't possible.
I had to get out from his sight.
I had to leave.
I had no choice, not that I would of wanted to stay.
But, I sit and wonder what would of happened if I had.
If I stayed in the situation with him.
If's consume my mind.
It's hard to let go, of the past.
Because they were my life.
In a way they still are because I find myself consumed with thinking about them.
All those memories.
They were all fake.
They never cared.
But a part of me says it wasn't fake.
A war is happening inside of my head.
Who will win?

He is the winner.
He tried hard to win.
He did everything right, but also, he did everything wrong.
I thought he was right, I thought he did everything right.
I wasn't looking.
We all wanted to believe he was doing the right thing.
After a part of me realized he wasn't the hero, that he did have flaws.
It was already too late because a part of me was already poisoned.
Poisoned by his thoughts that he drilled inside of my brain while trying to make it seem he was there.
While the world was living, I was trying to stay alive and I believed he was helping.
Did he save me at all?
Was he part of the reason I stayed on this world?
Or was I the one who told myself to hang on?
Slowly day by day I try to cleanse my mind of what he said, I try to realize I was the one who saved myself.
But in the end, he is the winner because I don't think I will every truly cleanse my mind.
I will never be the same person I was before he came along.
But every time I take another step into the other direction that he wouldn't have approved of, I am winning.
But I will never be the winner, I will always be trying to get him out of my head.
I will always try to tell myself he isn't right, because no matter what I do a little part of me will believe his hateful words

If I told you, everything that has happened, would you believe me?
Because they didn't.
If I told you, everything I said to him, would you believe me?
Because he didn't care.
If I told you, what he did, would you blame me?
Because they did.
Would you love me, and trust me, would you understand if I told you everything?
If I told you everything, would you look at me different?
Would you see me as a victim?
Because I'm not, I don't want to be seen as a victim.
If I told you, that I'm happy now, would you believe me even after everything I have gone through?
Because I'm not sure if I am.

Everything had to be perfect. I had to have a knife, music and band aids.
I pick up the knife and slowly pull up my sleeve so my wrist can be seen.
I cut my wrist slowly thinking of all the reasons I want to cut.
I think about everything anyone has ever told me. I try to stop but I can’t.
I lied to myself and I keep telling myself I can stop.
Cut, cut, cut, blood.
The blood slowly goes down my wrist and I cry.
I want to stop I really do. I close my eyes; I sit down on the floor thinking about all my thoughts in the dark bathroom.

It's hard to hear your name.
It's hard to talk about you, when I know nothing about who you really are.
I want to believe that you are different.
I want to believe that you can show others who you truly are.
Because I only saw the part that wanted nothing good for me.
Do you care?
Do you miss me?
Do you ever hear my name?
Does the memory of me ever keep you up at night?
Do you ever want to cry, because of what you did?
Why won’t you admit it?

Everything comes back to you.
Over and over again.
I have told the truth.
Yet I'm the one punished.
For what you have done.

I had never opened up myself to anyone.
Until i had talked to you.
Before i had lived life.
Until you had taken control of mine.
I listened to you, thinking nothing was wrong.
All those words i had said, didnt matter to you.
I was desprate to hold onto anyone who showed me an ounce of love, healthy or not.
Everyone knows now.
I have to say it's worse.
I almost wish i had stayed oblivious to your ways.
Because i lost almost everyone i cared about.
Because they don't believe me.
It's not that though that is really bothering me.
It's the fact that, you can walk around and do anything you wish without a worry in the world.
I have to be the one who is stressed.
I am the one who doesn't  get to see the girls grow-up.
I have to sit at family functions and hear about you.
I have to hold it all in, because would look at me as though I was the crazy one.
When in truth, you are the one.
You are the one who thought it was ok.
You are the one.
But I'm the one who has to pay every-day.

Your love was never mine.
Even though I thought it was.
Because my love was yours.
I was so deep and I didn’t realize you didn’t feel the same.
I was blind, even though every sign was there that your love wasn’t mine.
Why did I have to fall in love, why did you not love me?
At times, I ponder late at night when everything has gone to sleep, I ponder if somehow i really wasn’t blind.
Maybe you did love me?
Will I ever know for sure, or will I always wonder?