There once was a girl
Who hid herself from the world
She put on mask after mask
And faked every smile

But at sunset
She would unwrap the layers of her chrysalis
And sprint to the window
Looking frantically for that first glimmer of light
Wishing, hoping, praying on its dim sparkle

And she’d spend the rest of the night
Gazing into the evening sky
Drowning in the expanse of galaxies
Tracing imaginary constellations with her fingers
Searching desperately for a little star of her own

She lost herself many times
Pursuing the twinkling specks in the distance
Until she finally met the sun
A boy who reminded her that one star burns brighter than all the rest
He overpowered the twilight of her heart
And ignited fire from the ashes in her veins

Now she spends her nights
Eagerly awaiting the dawn instead

And when the hands on the clock move too slow
The minutes stretching into weeks
His reflection in the imperfect moon is her comfort
Like the brush of his hand gently kissing her cheek

These thoughts I'm starting to think,
And again, I'm beginning to sink,
Into that self-destructive place,
Every moment my mind starts to race.

There hasn't been a moment's peace,
Where my head has been at ease,
Destructive, socially inept,
Feeling like there's nothing left.

Trapped again in a dark void,
Trying my best to avoid,
Stumbling, nowhere to go,
Pushing emotion far below

Making attempts to share,
Doing what I can to know they care,
It's just that, no matter what I do,
I'll always feel I have me, not you.

These urges are getting stronger,
Becoming harder and harder to fight.
I thought I was strong,
But I am weak
I'm craving the pain,
The blood.
I thought I was better
But this overwhelming wave
Of sadness
Is back in full force
And I'm addicted to the pain
Giving in to the urges is inevitable
It's easier this way.

Most days are fine
Or as okay as they can be
I don't care much
Or I just don't think at all

But some nights
When I'm alone
These thoughts come racing by
And the restlessness comes back

Like a reminder of old days
Of darkness and confusion
Sadness and then numbs
With a blade inside my palm

I don't know why
But I do know how
Like a blender in my stomach
And a noose around my heart

Like a race inside my head
That will never stop
And a swirl behind my eyes
Though I'll never cry

I guess I'll have to cope
And learn to just get by
My spirit is mile high
And my head is in the skies

The worst is over

I stitched but it's still visible
I came knocking but
it seems I'm invisible
I'm too tired to pick up the shards
In a lonely night where
I hug my knees
weeping on my pillow,
covered with sheet
feeling the pain
What should I do,
my soul is wreck
Nocturnal thoughts hooting
like an owl in the wilds
I'm surrounded by darkness
and all I feel is sadness
This is what I call madness
because I'm just...
I'm just so helpless.*

-A

10/11/14

Let me tell you a story.
A story of sadness and happiness.
A story of defeats and triumphs.
A story of dreams and reality.
A story that has no ending.
Let me tell you a story about me.

I was born the middle child of a middle-class family.
We were richer than most, but I always thought otherwise.
As I grew, I realized mom was always there.

But the youngest always cling to her.
And the oldest caused trouble for her.
So I stood quietly in the corner.
I have to take care of myself, I thought. I cannot bother mom.
I would look towards the empty chair that my dad had sat in.
He just left for another country.
No time for kisses or goodbyes.
Just got up and left.

I became used to keeping myself company.
Sure, I had friends.
But I was an introvert.
 I would get extremely nervous just answering the phone. 
And too shy to invite them over.

Junior High rolled around and I began to have problems.
The once-obvious displays of affection between my parents had collapsed.
Now the sounds of bicker and despair loomed over the house.
My will always shattered at the first uttered word of discord.
The tears are comforting to me, but I cannot control them.

I was not vocal at the time.
I was not a vocal person at all.
Because of me being me, I got a stalker.
There were days when I dreading coming to school.
It was not in fear of my life: it was the fear of seeing my stalker again.

He loved me: I treated him as though I had scorned his parents.
He claimed to love me: I insulted and degraded him.
He claimed to love me: I hated him.

High school was not far behind.
But that's when the London Bridge fell down.
My London Bridge fell down.
Grades fell, Parents separated, Going to therapy.
And in the midst of everything, I fell into a trap.
Crafted by an abusive boyfriend.

I was slandered.
I was scared.
I was hurt.
I was abused.
I was controlled.
I was insulted.

I was pushed into a drinking fountain.
There was no blood, but I still remember where it hit.
I was insulted repetitively: rivers erupted and my face was drenched.
I was taken advantage of: I was now terrified for my life. I gave into his commands out of fear.
I was a toy: he found someone else while we were dating, leaving me all alone. 
I hate being alone.
I was controlled: he made me dependent on him. And I was afraid to refuse when he came crawling back to me.

It was not until Junior year.
Junior year started it all.
I had some courage. I had some guts.
The break-up happened.
I became happier and confident during the aftermath.
But the past would not leave me alone.
I tried to date again, but my chest would clench just thinking about it.
My nerves go on overdrive and my senses are heightened.
I cannot relax around men.
At least, not men I want to date.
Even the thought provoked panic.
It baffled me so.

Senior year was the best by far.
There was resolution in my eyes.
My hands trembled, but my heart did not.
The die was cast.
No fear held me back.
Only one thing bothered me.

Would I survive?
Or would I die?

She ran away from all the pain,
With a shattered soul she would obtain,
Hated unwanted with nowhere to go,
She’d always she hurting but no one would know.

She tells herself her lives a mess,
She wants to sleep, eternally rest,
She wants to die sad and hurt,
She’s sick with the pain she can’t divert,
She wants away from all the lies,
She wants to live without stifling cries.

She can’t be happy when she’s alone,
She can’t stay where she has no home,
She can’t go back without memories,
She can’t show the scars when no one sees,
She can’t be loved when she hides it away,
She’s misunderstood so she never can stay.

She wasn’t afraid when she drew her last breath
She had found her escape, her cure was death,
She won’t be remembered and she won’t be missed,
So please if you would listen to this.

Look for a grave unmarked and unknown,
And remember this girl; she’s found her home.

Some people are like stars,
so close yet so far away.

Some people are like the moon,
Shining so bright, but rarely noticed.

Some people are like comets,
They burn so bright and so fast that they don't last.

Some people are like constellations,
They look so put together when really everything is far from it.

Some people are like the night sky,
They look so dark far away, but really are filled with light.