You know it all,
But why?
What do you lose
Not knowing everything about me?

I can't breathe.
Why did I comment at all?
Why did I say anything in the chat?
They're all judging, oh god.

They don't seem like it but they are, aren't they?
"That's such a weird question, kick her."
"I'm terrified now because of you. Blocked."
That's what they'll do, right?

I can't stop twitching.
I need to cry.
Breathing is getting hard.
Maybe I should sleep.



Yeah, I'll do that.

Bright little things
Tiny like fireflies
They make me feel…happy
Happy little things

They can hide so much.
They can hide my bruises.
They can hide my tears.
They can hide my loneliness.


They hide my lies.




But, they honestly just hide my eyes.

falling out a tree,
spraining my right wrist.
running ‘round the woods,
trying to find my friends,
they look at me, confused
“what’s with all the rush?”
I scream, “we gotta go dudes!
The monster wants our heads!”

Oh, let us run!
Away from the gun!
They’ll pull our insides out!
We fall back down into a ditch,
With no way to get out!
Oh, let us climb!
I can’t climb,
My wrist hurts way too much!
I say, “Just leave me here to die,
Find your own way out!”

My skin is crying, it's so hot!
How do you live here?!
I just want to fall in some snow,
I just want snow to fall here.

My only purpose
is to listen.
An object for people to vent to.
A video ad talking about the joys of life.
An automated voice to provide a better outlook.
A wound up toy saying the same words over and over again, forever.
A vessel for a voice with no one to talk to.
A voice almost no one has heard.

But ****, if that's all I'm here for, I'm going to try my hardest and no one can stop me.

What you don't know can't hurt you.
That's what I have to tell myself.
When my friend says she's been cutting.
When my friend says she's being abused.

Do they think I'm dumb?
Do they think I'm ******* dumb?
You go to one person with your problems, and that's me.
Why do you think I can't put two together?

I can't do this anymore.
You three hurt me too much.
My mom was right, you're using me.
Why am I still here?

But one we all naturally accept.

Tomorrow morning,
You get to leave isolation.
At least it wasn’t two weeks long again, eh?

How am I too young to be around you?
I mean, the radiation is worse on kids.
I should be home.

In the meantime, Father is visiting me in Russia.
I don’t want to see him.
I hope your scans come out okay tomorrow, Mother.

too many people,
i’m a bit too feeble.
too much noise,
and not enough poise.

let me through,
I wanna go home.
back to my burrow,
my little dome.

“Please tell someone, it doesn’t have to be me”
i know you’re trying to tell me not to bottle it up
but now it sounds like you can’t handle me.

I don't have enough for a trashcan.
Or a chair.
My trashpile consists of five things:
Five pieces of paper
And me.

When you're ugly,
People tend to focus on that.
You are what you look like now.
Even if you're beautiful on the inside.

When you're beautiful,
People tend to focus on that.
You are what you look like now.
Even if you're ugly on the inside.

I'm about as interesting as a fruit fly, 4, and no amount of arguing that fruit flies are cool will change my mind <3

i’m feeling fine
a bit bulimic, but that’s alright
you write to me,
i write right back
and that’s all we’ll ever need

Dear Elizabeth Matthias,

I know you’re not getting better, and acting like you are is probably just making it worse. Thinking about the good things make you nostalgic and thinking about the bad makes you feel worthless. You CAN just end it all, you really can but... you shouldn’t. I don’t know why, you just shouldn’t **** yourself. You always have someone to talk to, or maybe you don’t anymore... Open a social media account, don’t let anybody know. And just... vent. Let them know, maybe someone will come around looking to help you. Or gather up the last of your courage and ask Mom to get you a therapist. They might not be concerned but that’s not the point, the point is someone is there to help you that you didn’t have before and they can actually help you! They’re trained in dealing with people like you, stubborn and feeling awful all the time and

I should stop talking, right?

You don’t have to get better for others, but you should. But the only person you should get better for is yourself, the people you love and the people who love you.

I’m sorry, but hey, love yourself kid.

Sincerely,
Elizabeth Matthias

an empty page, lonely in a book

I'm sympathetic,
Empathetic,
And overall,
Pathetic.

oh right, capitalism

once,
twice
lost
lives.
you don't wanna know what
i
know.

I never say anything because I know you don't care.
I mean, you don't feel, right?

Write something happy.
Write something sad.
Express your feelings.
If you don’t, I’ll be mad.

honestly though, communism would work if everyone respected each other

once,
twice.
lost
lives
you don't wanna know what
i
know.

so many choices,
so many voices.
you don't wanna know what
i
know.

happy in the sun,
disappointed in the dark,
where are your friends?
did your family leave you?

(flinch
move
stop
please)

i wanna leave,
get away,
disappear.
get away,
i plead.
get away,
please.
they never listen,
so i'm forced to stay.

attention *****
psychopath
lazy *****
ungrateful brat
don't call me that, please
it brings up bad memories.

beg,
they whisper.
beg like a dog,
they laugh.
no, no, i don't want to...
i just want it to stop.

don't make me,
don't make me,
please, please,
no, no, no, n-

once,
never twice.
lost
my life.
i'll finally be gone,
i got away.

do you wanna know what
i
know?

Waiting is a part of life
Sometimes we don't want to
But other times, we wish it would be longer

it seems the world may never know.
the boy who i was once talking to
all of a sudden,
disappears.
where did he go?
will he come back?
it seems the world may never know.

I'm full of hate
I'm full of disgust
I'm full of tears
I'm full of fear
I'm full of sadness
I'm full of pain
But most of all,
I'm full of the depths of water

What do a shoelace and a missile have in common?
They can both **** you, one just takes more time.
What do we have in common?
We both have skin (hopefully), and we’re both reading this poem.

i'm falling,
it's pulling me in.
or, i think i am.
the only thing i see
is a white abyss
of terrifying possibilities.

yes, i love you
ja, ich liebe dich
ja, jeg elsker dig

i'm sorry
es tut mir leid
...unskyld :/