My periods turn to semicolons
My suicide notes to poetry
My goodbyes became hellos
The blades turn to sunflowers
And the bullets, a rose
My heart still is broken
But the pieces have been found
Death isn’t for me anymore
What is, in the here and now
I still don’t feel enough
But I am alive
And that’s enough to say
Today is not the day I die.

Anxiety is
Car motors noise
As loud as a horns
With signs
Of flashing lights
With big sights trampled
Into a small space
With crowds of people
And new faces
You try to find your way out
But you cant
There is no end
Help me out of this.

We are never awake.
always asleep and not at all
aware of the surroundings 
it makes us feel like we
are drowning
we are to blind to see ourselves fall.

That girl sitting there
is a beautiful tragedy
her mind is an aghast
her body
is her grave
her bones
ache
while her throat is being strangled
whats wrong with her mind
cant ever be untangled.
she,
is a beautiful tragedy

dear ******, thank you
thank you for hurting me
it helped me realize just how powerful I am.
thank you for hurting me
it made me realize I am worthy
thank you for hurting me
it helped me realize you are nothing and I am everything.

am I broken
is there something wrong with me
I just feel so confused
and gone
and alone
you see,
I thought I had someone and then she left me.
for all the things my mind did to my body.
and then there was her but she left me and every-body.
but is there something wrong with me?
I feel as though I don't work properly.
my mind and soul drifts away from me
disconnected from all of what's left of me.
and everyone leaves.
...and I'm not here enough to tell them to stay.

We used to close our eyes so tight
We could almost taste the magic of the tooth fairy
Or frosty the snowman
But eventually,
You grow up
Open your eyes
see the world
And see the darkness
And all the fairy tales fall down the drain
Nothing is magical anymore

I've spent a lifetime
cultivating this
hatred towards myself
and I'm too alone to leave it
and too scared I never will.

cut me open and see my heart,
it is bruised deep inside,
the beats are fast,
but the blood flows slow.
there is someone down in there.
cutting my heart into pieces
as my happiness fades away
from everything, you took from me that day.

sometimes I imagine this body
cloaked in cation tape carved like a noose,
sometimes I still see his handprints on my chest,
sometimes I get this sense of fear
that he is still watching me,
and sometimes I still think I am there.

It is okay to miss me
it is okay to cry 
you deserve freedom
from the day I died
know that I still love you 
know that I still care 
I never have left you
I'm here from up high
and when that day comes 
we can be together again.

Why do we protect
the people
who have
hurt us
more than
anyone else
ever could.

At the end of the day,
there are some things
you just can´t help but talk about it.
Some things we just don't  
want to hear. And some things we say because
we just can't be silent anymore.

Maybe this whole time 
I've been mistaking
this body as a punching
bag... or maybe this body 
is the punching bag 
that has been accepting
all of the hits.

believe me when i say
it does get better,
there is hope,
you are worthy,
and you are loved.

My brain is wired this way,
obsessed with everything other than 
what it ¨should¨ be
With being small enough that if I breathe
my skin may start to bleed from
the aching bones inside of me.
The obsession with being perfect
or to be anyone,
other than me.