Bedrooms and broken hearts.
A place where a fire is easy to start.
Bruised faces and nameless
People to blame
For what started in you.
A small flame that used to light up the day
Slowly spread into a wildfire,
Damaging everything in its path
Until it finally stops.
Everyone seems to blame the fire,
But never the person who caused it.
They don’t look beyond what is in front of them
Because it takes 5 seconds to see a monster
And 5 days to reach behind the monster and see a damaged person

If your mouth spewed lies,
They could slit my skin like knives
Sharper than
You could imagine.
They would be
Unstoppable,
Unbreakable,
Unpredictable.
Before that could ever happen,
I surrendered
Taking my own knife,
And hurting myself
Before you ever could

the sweet, innocent, happy girl
I used to be, only 5 years ago, is long gone.
Thrown away like a pile of garbage
& replaced by a zombie
Fueled by nothing more than fear, anger, sadness, & anxiety.
Not living; just breathing.
If she knew herself today,
She would be terrified of the monster she'd become
While her dreams were crushed right in front of her
& swept away by suicidal fantasies
And abuse of ecstasy
She saw.
She would probably be wiped away
Because she would have never guessed
She would become suicidally depressed
& at the age of 17, addicted to numbness
That eased her emotional pain.
Cutting, burning, drinking,
Taking so many pills she couldn't even think,
While almost by the minute,
Her anxiety and depression only got worse.
But what would surprise her the most
Was how she could even think of ending her own life,
Because she always knew suicide was never the answer.
But I guess after 2 years of constant anxiety,
Depression, hoplessness, & a life that didn't feel worth living,
It begins to feel like the only option.
Most painful of all,
She would hate to see her own death,
When the tiniest thread
Of the rope that once fully held her life together,
Bringing her hope,
Finally broke.
Crying, dizzy from all the pills she took,
She grabbed her blade and slide it across her throat.
Ending all hope for things to get better.
I'm sorry I'm not you anymore.
It shouldn't have ended this way,
But I couldn't live like that forever.
It had to stop

Pretty, skinny. perfect,
Everything I want to be.
Well, I mean on the outside at least.

You post pictures of your "great" feast,
But I know it was a binge.

You appear so perfect and normal,
But you shed that skin
As you become out of sight.

Anxiety, mental break downs,
And I don't even know what.

You don't try to hide it,
Yet you somehow don't let it show.
At least to those who you don't know.

I understand so much,
Yet I don't at the same time.

You are so skinny,
Yet you don't eat and call yourself fat.
I understand hating yourself so much,
You make yourself suffer.
I understand it is your only need to cope.
Yet I don't understand
How someone has never been fat like me
Is taught and told to hate herself.

I want the best for you,
But I still don't know how bad it got.

I just can't stand to see you look perfect,
While no one sees your pain, fear, or guilt.