She wants to be shoved up against a wall
then coddled when she says her back hurts.
Slitting her wrists in a lavender bath,
she wants you to bandage her up.
"I want you to hurt me," she'll cry.
And you'll be confused when she plays victim.
When you look into her doe eyes, don't be fooled.
She's a monster.

And I finally saw it.
I saw the sadness that you drugged
and *******, and locked away.

I saw it finally break free and escape.
It frantically ran screaming,
hoping that someone would hear.

You chased it after a while,
but you eventually let it go.
Dropping to the ground, you waited for the punishment.

nothing more, so much less.
the 18th year, to the date
is approaching.
I cannot bear the thought of myself
as anything more than a being.
I have accomplished nothing,
and lack the desire to do.
the 18th year and I am still
nothing.

Oh man.
I was so young.
Almost too young
to experience any of this.
Where do I begin?

You were just a stranger,
a disgusting, vile human being.
You stole me away.
How was I supposed to know it was wrong?
Rubbing and touching. I hate you.

You left me alone, confused,
unaffected. Who even were you?
How curious that this would happen
to little old me. But it was my fault.
So I pulled on my little shirt and jeans, and left.

Then everything was calm.
I forgot about it,
because I could,
and I can.
I refuse to ever be broken by you.

But it started again.
I was older, but still young.
You were charming, exciting, caring.
Then your hand started coming down
on my tear streaked face.

I was out of line, wasn't I?
That's why I would accidentally fall down
your basement stairs. Or fall on the vase
I so carelessly knocked over.
Those cuts on my back? My fault.

My emotions died down the day you
decided to leave. Another state, a happy me.
I forgot about you, the scars disappeared
along with the scraps of my innocence.
I was changed.

After all of my waiting,
there you were with open arms.
I knew you were the right choice.
You planted soft kisses on every
sore spot on my body, and made me feel.

I loved every part of you, and I still do.
From the scar on your chin,
to the scars on your wrists.
I loved how every touch from you
was like a hit of ecstasy.

But all things must come to an end.
I got that call that you would never
be you again. A simple handful of
your lovely pills. It was my fault.
Because it's always my fault.

My knight in shining armor came to save me.
But he had some baggage,
some very important baggage.
His 'good friends' took me away,
and made a fool out of me.

I fought, and screamed no, no, no.
They could hear me, through every second
of every minute they were using me,
touching me,
taking me away. It's okay, it was my fault.

It happened once,
twice,
three times. Separate.
I forgot about every single one.
I'll always forget and continue on, by myself.

It took a while,
but I finally realize why I am the way I am.
The empathetic young girl who's mentally
too old for her own good.
She's seen too much, been through too much.

She'll always blame herself for it,
it's in her nature,
she hates conflict.
And all she wants is stability,
someone to sweep her away, and make her feel safe.

Which she hasn't felt in years.

I like your defiant voice.
It's like a breath of fresh air
in all the madness.
I don't know what you're trying to do,
but it's working.
You're such a hardass
but that one moment
of complete kindness
and care
and worry,
I could see it in your eyes.
And you reached out to touch me
then pulled away,
coming back to what actually is.

If you cut her open
I'm almost positive
that you'll choke on a cloud
of cigarette smoke
and glitter.

Then when you look back
on this sorry life,
you'll see a teenage girl
who watches too much TV
and smokes too much ****.

When you see what she went through
and how she brushes it all off,
you'll see her quietly in her room
sobbing,
roughly swallowing those tiny pills.

But she'll get back up,
you'll remember
how every day she'll jokingly
talk about her imminent demise
but do you ever see the truth behind it?

She just wants to have fun,
but the damage that was done to her
****** it all up,
so then the fun
turns into an outlet to forget.

With all the flashing lights she sees
to the flashbacks she endures,
to the strangers she welcomes
to the strange ones she avoids,
she does it all with a cynical smile.

This girl will continue to burn her insides
and pop those
sweet pills,
she'll down that liquid that
burns her throat, to make her smile.

So if you cut her open
I'm almost positive
you'll find charred organs
and confetti.
She's a whir of reality and euphoria.

But I don't think you realize
how lonely a person can feel
sometimes.
I roll out of bed,
alone.
I walk around with others around me
but feel isolated, and out of tune.
I hate all of you.
And I sit at home alone dreaming
of something that's ridiculous
and juvenile,
but it eats away at me because
I can't have lovely things.
Can't I have a hand to hold sometimes?
Lips to kiss my forehead and whisper
sweet nothings to me while we lay
in the darkest of night, wide awake?
Maybe a heart for me to hear beating
when I rest my head against your chest.
Someone to bring the broom when I crumble
to tiny little pieces.
Just someone to keep me down when
I can't stop shaking.
Hands and fingers, to grace my skin
with their prescence.
But I can't have that,
because lovely things are
just out of my reach.

We're just a sad generation.
A generation filled with bad choices
And no regrets.
Teenagers who want to find a way
To make someone happy,
Proud.
But we've lost our way.
We swear too much;
Care too little,
And are perfectly content with it.
We do dangerous,
Careless things
Without looking back.
Crying at night and trying not to scream.
And we plaster on those little grins,
Until the walls start to melt
Like candle wax.
And as our outer layers are melted away,
We're forced to turn your way
With the permanent scowl
That our lives have cursed us with.

I'm sorry my emotions
are such a burden.
But it could be worse.
I don't make you
ask me what's wrong,
so just let me be.
And I'm not allowed to be
depressed for a while?
I'm forced to be happy?
And yes, let me take it out on you,
not with anger, but with silence.
Sensitivity will be the death of you,
why do you even care anyway,
when I'm just a face to you.

"Hey remember that phase you went through."
What phase? I'm still living through it.
I can't find light even on the sunniest of days.
Do you mean remember when I wanted to die?
How could I remember when it never left,
when it's not a memory?

Speak softly and make my ear tremble.
I'm so sorry if I cannot hear.
For once I am so lost
and so afraid.
Breathe heavily next to me so that
my stiff body melts into the sheets.
My apologies if I do not feel.
I'm taken away, for only a moment.
For only a second.
For only a minute.
I'm taken away from this world,
and put in a small room.
A small room in a big castle,
and the large stones are made of only scenes,
and snippets.
And fragments.
Of the darkest corner,
of my young psyche.
So if for just a moment,
your finger tips are on my waist,
making my entire body shatter.
I want you to remember that I apologize,
for being lost for a moment,
to explore the mind
I once knew.

The darkness is back.
And this time
I'm not too sure how
to shed some light on it.

It's like I'm being weighed down
by a cinder block
in the Pacific.
I think I'm drowning.

A permanent stone in my
dry throat. It's hurting.
I wish I could let it burst
and spill out of my eyes.

I am not okay,
but at least I can say it.
Not a lot, but I'll let you know
if i'm not. And if I need your help.

*And I do.

You've knocked me off my feet again,
I fell on the hard ground and bled.
You're cuter when your mouth isn't moving,
and your lungs stay still.
What nerve you have.