Honestly sometimes I miss it
The friends
The food
The care
But then I remember how nice it was to walk outside
How weird it was to walk into a store by myself
How odd it was to have access to knifes
Everyone says they care
And for the most part they do
But you're the only one that has to deal with the darkness all the time
I miss the constant care
People making sure I was safe
Now I have to make sure I'm safe
And as much as I want to be alive
I want to be dead
But it's okay because struggling means I'm living and I can't loose anything by living
Dying will always be there

"what doesn't **** you makes you stronger."
Is that what you say?

So,
When I was lying in bed, covered in my own blood, choking on my despair. When it hurt too much to speak or eat because there was no skin left on my lips. When they were so messed up at school the next day that I had to lie to my friends, that I had to lie about the scars that I'd caused, the scars that I would tear off when I was upset, only to be replaced by deeper ones.
Does that sound *strong to you?

So,
When my arguments at home were so bad that my mother thought I hated her, that when I tried to apologise I broke down for fear of messing up and making things worse. When my father stormed into my room, finding me in tears and hyperventilating yet still screamed at me for making my mother cry. When I passed out, waking in my mothers arms on my bedroom floor with my sister and father having a screaming match. When everyone was crying but me because I was so far past crying that I couldn't breathe.
So you think that was strong?

So,
When my best-friend turned against me, jealous that I had known our shared friends longer, claiming that I hit and bullied her, that I abused and threatened her, leaving me friendless and alone in a class of people that I'd never thought to become closer to. When I was called to see the head teacher, confused and eager to look after someone I called my best-friend, but was accused of smashing her head against a brick wall and dragging her across the floor and I was too stunned to defend myself, and ended up having multiple panic attacks, and sat there blubbering like a fool, thinking that I was going to be expelled over my best-friend's lies.
Do you think I felt strong?

So next time you hear someone say,
"oh, well, what doesn't **** you makes you stronger!"
tell them,
to shut the hell up.

last night
i came home late
to my mother yelling

i tried to reason
to no avail
she didn't believe any of my words

her hand on my arm
her voice high and loud
she tried to push me inside
she wouldn't listen

tired and angry
i walked away
she followed

then i ran
and ran
and ran
and ran

till i could no longer hear the flopping
of her shoes
behind me.

i had to return later
but the feeling of that run
of disobeying
of my heart beating fast
of my small lasted freedom
is still in my mind
causing me
to want to run once more
and never stop
till i'm so far away
even her in her sliver car
can't find me

i want to run
and run
and run
and run
and i don't wanna ever stop

roses are red but
romance is dead, so what use
is counting petals?

I am a woman , I should be timid - They say
I am a human , I know no limit  - I say,

My existence is not meant for your judgment
Crushing me is not a sign of your triumphant,

My love for you has always been abundant
Why am I the one to make all the adjustments,

Look into my eyes , you'll see a twinkle
Savaging it , is so sinful,

My demand for freedom makes you reluctant
Clothed in societal norms , I have to bear its repercussion,

How are the governing laws so different for Both
What makes you so nervous of my growth,

Why do I have to fight for what is my right
Why do you enjoy my plight,


Being submissive is declared my attire
No one hears what my heart desires,

I am not the one to dance on your note
I am a volcano that erupts on my own,

I don't demand anything extraordinary
All I seek is equality,

Equality to Breathe without fear
Equality to be safe my dear!!!!!

long hair cut short.
apology after apology.
jackets often worn,
if not, sweaters or
long-sleeved tops.
anti-social,
not because
i hate people,
but i fear they hate me.
isolation in my bed,
sometimes,
panic attacks
in the bathroom.
constant overthinking,
whether 3 am or 3 pm.
scribbles thoughts
into poems,
but hides them.
pushes away,
even though i want
to pull them closer.

The first was when you punched me in the heart
Told me to try and understand
That my bruised heart MIGHT heal

The second was when you hit a vein
The blood stained the bathroom floor
And you were quick to clean up the mess
Apologized me back to life

The third time you killed me in my closet
I was drowning in my tears
Fears devoured my mind
I was sure there was no coming back
But you surprised my heart and it leapt for you

But you weren't done
You decided you wanted me dead again
The fourth was more personal
You watched me this time
No call
No distance
This time you did it in person and it was painful
You watched me suffer
You tried to ease the pain
I couldn't even pretend to be alive

Please don't try to bring me back
There's no use
You shot me in my heart this time

I tried to **** myself
Regretful
Moreso, that failure

You know, its so easy to die. Slip into oblivion and say nothing matters. To hide your sorrow until tomorrow disappears.

I woke up with thick grey half moons under my eyes, yellow-grey toned skin, one half red eye and a dozen bruises on my neck.

I dont want to lose the innocence i have left. This is my confession. Hatred burns in my heart, but not just at myself anymore & if it is not my fault i can never change this terrifying world. I feel so small, i could blink & disappear...

But still, somehow, in my absence, in the simple threat of loss, fear and pity enter the hearts of those among me. So vile. So heartbreaking. The tears on my moms face having driven three hours to see me are the worst waters i might encounter. A tsunami of emotion.

Life is pain. Death is emptiness. Suicide may be relief, but failure is guilt.

Is there a balance somewhere?