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Christina Cox Dec 2015
From the most caring of my relatives.

Grandma.
Uncle.
Aunt.
Great Aunt.

“I need to focus on school.”
“I want to work to get money.”
“I have friends to hang out with.”

None of them the real answer.

How can I have a boyfriend,
a person to love me,
when I hate myself?
  Dec 2015 Christina Cox
S
Sometimes when I say "I'm fine."
I just want someone to hug me and say "It's okay, I know you're not."
But that never happens
And with my trusty razor blade, I piece myself back together again
Christina Cox Dec 2015
You haunt my thoughts, turn my dreams into nightmares.
Your image shows me what I see in myself.
Someone frightening.
Your voice whispers to me what I hear my reflection say.
Something false.
The memory of your touch makes my body tremble.
With remembered violations.
The memory of your taste makes my tongue crave something else.
The taste of blood.
The memory of your smell reminds me of the warmth I felt.
When I was in love.
You’re the demon I encounter every single day.

Even when I don’t see you.
Even when I can’t see you.
Even when I won’t see you.
Even when I don’t want to see you.

You’re the demon of my memories.
The demon of my body.
The demon that takes over my emotions.

I blame you.
For feeling sad or numb. Never happy.
For crying or frowning. Never smiling.
I blame you.
For biting or cutting. For punching or scratching.
For all the pain I inflict on myself.
I blame you.
For drawing blood on the skin you once called perfect.
For carving lines into the body you once held in your arms.
I blame you.
For creating darkness in the eyes you once called beautiful.
For needing to watch a heart-wrenching movie just to cry.
I blame you.
For forcing my mouth into a shape you never knew.
For creating the fear of a simple kiss from someone else.
I blame you.
For the depression that has taken over my mind.
For the depression that has taken over my soul.
I. Blame. You.

There are so many reasons I blame you.
All of them valid.
All of them validated by others who know my story.
Except for you.
  Because you don’t remember it the way I do.
You don’t remember that I said, “No.”
You don’t remember that I asked you to stop.

So I know that it is not myself to blame.
But because you don’t know
what your violations did to me,
I blame myself.
I blame myself instead of you.
**Again.
  Dec 2015 Christina Cox
mikecccc
I'd like to find
a special land
where everything
is just
a little quieter
where the residents
aren't so chaotic
a place preferably
within walking distance
all I can think of
is a monastery
or asylum.
Christina Cox Dec 2015
My parents say things;
My friends, they say other things;
And I don’t listen.

Mom says she loves me.
Julia asks to hang out.
Dad holds me tightly.

I do not listen.
I cannot hear what they say.
I can’t feel their love.
  Dec 2015 Christina Cox
hsc
Eventually all these
Negative things will pile up and
She'll lose her mind.
She has nothing to live for.
So why doesn't she cry?

They hate her and probably wish they never had her.
She's sorry.
She's sorry for it all.

If she ended her life right now,
Neither of them would even shed a tear.
For all their sadness, grief and unhappiness,
Would be gone...
Dead;
Killed.

At her own hand.
And she'd regret it not.
For now, at least, she can be at peace.
She CAN be loved and she will.

And there, at least,
She won't be thinking suicidal thoughts.
I wrote this the 31st October, sorry for the late upload, just been very busy. This poem was an actual description of how I felt that day
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