When she speaks,
She speaks the truth
Listen.

When she hopes,
She hopes with all her heart
Hear her out

When she laughs,
She can brighten up any room
Laugh with her

When she cries,
Her pieces thought to be glued together come apart
Hold her

When she loves,
It's like no other feeling
Love her back

When she writes,
She writes out her story with beautiul words
Read it

Because when she writes,
She's writing the words she can't find to speak

When she loves,
She's loving like she yearns to be loved

When she cries,
She's letting out everything she's been holding inside

When she laughs,
She is reminded that in reality, happiness is still so very far away

When she hopes,
She hopes in vain;
For every 11:11 wish,
Ends in tears spilling,
And broken promises,

But when she speaks.
It is rare-
She is habitually silent
For when she speaks,
No one listens.

I find it kinda funny

I find it kinda sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the
             Best
                     I've
                            Ever
                                     Had

Fake smile,
           Dried eyes,
                       Scratched wrists,
                                         Bruised thighs,
                                                         White pills,
                                                                      Rope tied,
                                                                                Gun loaded,
                                                                                                     *Suicide.

Mirror, Mirror,* on my wall,
I just want to be thin, pretty and tall.

Mirror, Mirror, if I change my hair,
Maybe someone will start to care?

Mirror, Mirror, if I starve myself,
At least I’ll be beautiful, forget my health.

Mirror, Mirror, if I cut my wrist,
Will I feel like I exist?

Mirror, Mirror, don’t you see?
What you show, is ruining me.

She paints a pretty picture,
But her story has a twist-

Her paint brush is a razor
And her canvas is her wrist

She paints a pretty picture
In a color that’s blood red
While using her sharp paint brush
She ends up finally dead

Her pretty picture’s fading
Quite slowly on her arm
The blood is not racing through her
She can no longer do harm

She painted her pretty picture
But her picture had a twist-
You see her mind was her razor

And her heart was her wrist

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”
Oh darling…
After years of being bullied,
Bullying myself,
Are you aware the state I’m in?
My hands, they shake.
My head, it spins.
To be trapped in your own mind,
To be hooked on a drug they call sadness,
It’s torture.
I am a POW.
A prisoner of the war I am at with myself
When my mind says “Move on”,
And my heart says “Hold on”,
And my body says “I’m not sure how much more of this I can take”,
Who to listen to?
So I am punished for everything broken in my life
As I grasp through the darkness,
Trying to glue it all back together,
Ignoring the cuts the sharp shattered dreams bring,
But I’m so tired of self-pity.
So tired of holding onto people and things that have long left my life
Hoping one day
These real eyes
Will realize
When those real lies are told
So I can stop and ask myself is it really worth it.
Or better yet, am I really worth it?
Or am I just a complication?
Someone who you would be better off without,
At least you won’t have to act like you love me.
Lie about being there for me,
Dangle in front of me the possibility of happiness,
Then pretend to help me pick up the pieces of my broken heart
I’m so tired.
Stupid us, thinking we were in love.
Stupid me, thinking I was finally good enough.
So when I hear that stupid rhyme,
It brings me back.
Re-read the top if you must to completely grasp,
But don’t tell me that hurts less than a broken bone.

I am a hypocrite.
I tell my friends they have to eat,
when I don't.
I tell them not to listen to what others say
when I do.
I tell them they shouldn't cut
when i do
I tell them life is worth living
when I've attempted suicide.
I tell them to be happy
when I'm battling depression.
But regardless,
know I am here
For anyone battling depression
Anyone considering suicide,
Cutting,
Not eating,
Questioning their self worth,
Or maybe just sad.
I am here.

When the night comes out
                                 So does the blade and tears.


When the day comes out
             so does the smiles and sweatshirt

                    
                                                    When your home alone
                                                              the thoughts eat you alive


                    & when your home alone to long...


  you feel unsafe... unsafe at your home?



            Home should be safe...



                                                    So when home isn't safe then what is safe?