You toy with my feelings
And play with my mind.
Make me believe you left me behind.

Eye will count two ten
You hide until then.
Eye will start two search four you, but don't tell me when.

Or maybe play hop scotch
Trample all over my feelings while they watch
Raise the standard up a notch.

How about we run around each other
Two everyone else it's obvious we want one another
But you'll conceal it from me, keep it under cover.

You want two play jump rope
Repeatedly jumping all over my hope
Yet eye am expected to cope.

So lets play a game.
You'll kiss me and whisper my name
Then you'll leave me and make me go insane.

Does this game seem fun to you?
Because this is what you put me though.

I almost wish you followed her.
Because then it would hurt
And I'd get over it
And we'd go back to being friends
But I'd be right.

I almost wish you followed her.
Because then you'd have fun
And I'd be fine
And we'd go back to being friends
But you'd be free.

I almost wish you followed her.
Because then I won't let you down
And you'd get over it
And we'd go back to being friends
But I'd be in the clear.

I almost wish you followed her, because it would be your fault and I won't be the one who hurt you.

But you didn't.
Because you don't need other girls
Because you have your own girl
Because you think you love me
Because you say I'm perfect
Because you have me.
So you didn't.

What happened to that adorable  little girl?
The one with the outrageously curly hair,
That girl who would always be smiling
And never wearing clothes,
That little girl who never spoke for herself,
But always ordered black currant juice or ice cream,
The one who'd follow anyone who smiled at her,
The girl who was as sweet as all the sugar she consumed,
The one who refused to go to school but had water fights instead.
What happened?


What happened to that cute kid,
Who loved her family,
And would always play games,
The one who loved being outside,
And thought that showering wasted too much time because there was so much to do.
That girl that did everything and anything her sister told her to.
The child that played dress up,
Loved pink,
And ran around in dresses.
What happened to that girl that was popular,
Loved by almost everyone ,
The kind child that had loads of friends.
What happened?

What happened?


What happened is that I killed her.
Every time I insulted her
A part of her died.
Every time I compared her to her sister,
Every time I told her she was alone,
Every time I made her feel lonely,
Every time I made her feel unloved,
Every time I told her that no one cares,
Everytime I told her everyone leaves,
Everytime I isolated her,
Everytime I made her feel hopeless,
Everytime I gave her a reason to regret ,the beginning of a new day,
I killed a part of her.
Everytime I cut her
I tore away a piece of her soul.
And when I tried to **** her, I finally murdered that child.

That girl I used to be died the moment I put my thoughts into actions.
She's dead.
And it's my fault.

I feel so abandoned and alone
I'm losing my heart, I'm losing my home.

I feel so abandoned in the dark.
I feel like an old swing set in a park.

My purpose is to raise others from the ground,
Lift them up and swing them 'round.
.
I'm there for their entertainment and fun,
Until they run of with the sun.

Then I am so abandoned in the park.

Everyone has a book. It's their life, figuratively. Etched onto the pages of a book. But you write it as you go. In the choices you make. The things you do, say. Who you love, who loves you.
And yes, others will feature in your book. Some will put the pen back in your hand when you feel you can no longer write.

Some will be able to read your story by the look on your face, what you show by the way you act, what you say.
Others won't.
Or maybe that's you.
Maybe some of us write in invisible ink or in a language others can't understand.

You can't just erase some of the words or tear out the pages you no longer like.

Don't let someone else take over your job as Author. Don't let anyone take the pen away for you. And don't let others try control your narrative by deciding who or what can feature in your masterpiece.


In life, you'll find an actual book, or someone's story that you will fall in love with. A book that will become your bible. But make sure it's a hard copy, a hard cover, not the pages of someone's life, kissed with their story.

I know you fell in love with my story, or lack thereof. The way you couldn't decipher it, or even see the words at first.
You like the mystery, the suspense. The way you never knew what was coming next.
You fell in love with the subject matter
Genre
Writing style.
But not the author.
Never me.

I just wonder if this is the end of a chapter, or of my entire book. Because yes, you are a part of my story.

I think that I have so much to say
But all my thoughts lead my feelings astray.

I feel so many different things
But I can't quite understand my emotions, like I can't hear when a foreign person sings.

This is just a stupid attempt to have a good piece that rhymes
Oppose to the rambling ranting ******* you read of mine all those other times.

My thoughts are like a river
Flowing through what used to be my soul.

My thoughts drown rational feeling
Or any decent emotion.

My thoughts war goodbye to the beach as they drag my good mood into the cold, dark depths of them.

My thoughts cause the same amout of trauma as a near-drowning.

My thoughts are sometimes still and transparent
Showcasing the horrors they hide

My thoughts at other times dark and murky
Ugly and sinister
Concealing the awfulness beneath its surface
Waiting to surprise you

My thoughts look inviting at times
Refreshing
But My Thoughts are a dangerous weapon to the unsuspecting
And the most common one can **** me as easily as drowning in my swimming pool.

you're going to cry yourself to sleep tonight
               That is what they tell me
                                    what I tell me
I know.
                     I reply to them
                                       to me
why will you cry?
  because you're alone?
    because you're lonely?
      because you're pathetic?
        because you're worthless?
          because you're not enough?
            because* no one wants you?
They taunt
                   ask
                         mock
                                   I taunt
                                               ask
                                                      mock

You get me high as a kite
Make me wanna dance all night
And that's only when I hear from you.

You bring me down like a bomb
When we can't talk and you're gone
And that's only when I don't hear from you for a week.

You make me think
You make me feel
And I realize this may be real

You make me think
You make me feel
How on earth can this be real

You build me up
You bring me down
But I know it's all in my head
When I'm thinking alone in my bed

I know it's true that you care for me
You've opened up my heart like you had a key.
(I know it's true you care for me)

You made me think
You made me feel
How will I know if this is real?

You make me think
You make me feel
And when I see your eyes I know this is real.

When you fix your heart with pieces of others whole heart
You're left with a bigger hole when they inevitably leave.

When you try heal your cuts with others kisses
You bleed more in the absence of their lips.

When you cover up your scars with love and tender words
You rip them open again when the love vanishes and the tenderness subsides.

The moral of the story is to never put yourself together with parts of someone else
Because you'll be left to pick up the broken pieces when everyone inevitably leaves.

I can see them in my mind.
I can see the picture of these hideous creatures standing in my room.
They're all smiling at me.
They're as dark as the room around me
Lacking the same amount of light as my soul.
They are friendly.
They are the only ones actually here.
Everyone else has got their own lives to deal with.
But these guys?
Their lives are centered around me.
But the way I imagine they look must har stemmed from somewhere, right?
The image I have of them came from the way try act.
I picture them as clawed beings with razor fingers that kiss every part of me
Leaving scars and reminders of our relationship.
I see them as cloaked figures
With long looped rope clothing them
The nooses that they wrap around me to comfort me.
I see them as thoughtful creatures
The ones who plant that seed in my mind of cut cut cut
**** **** ****.
see these creatures smiling
As everyone will be when I am dead.
These creatures call me to them
At night
When they blend in
And won't be judged by others.
These creatures are my friends because I am just as ugly as them
And have done everything they have done to me.

Tattoos are personal expression
My body
My rules
My ink

She collects shiny objects
And lurks in the dark

Flightless and alone
She stares at her collection
Wondering which one is her most prized possession

Crying out into the night
Cold and desperate
She decides to examine each object more closely
And let them examine her skin
In order to determine her favourite.

You'll be the alcohol that I can't get enough of. Burning, warm, addictive.

And I'll be the candy that always leaves you wanting more. Sweet, fleeting, and never enough.

That is what you call me.
I'm your "dear one".
At first that made me cry
Knowing that I forced you to care
Manipulated you into thinking I am anything worth anything or anyone caring about.

Then I got to know you.
Realize how you saw me.
I bonded with you more and cared for you in return.

Now I almost smile at the mention of me being your "dear one".
Because I am now honored that someone so amazing as you can care for me
And at times, I even think that I'm worth caring about.


So this is for my dear one, becuse I care about you too.
And you are so much more than what you label and limit yourself as.
And even if the breath has left my soulless body, I will always be here for you.

Now I want to find out yours.

I want to know the story behind every cut and scar, as I kiss your forearms.

I want to know what you love, as I trace my finger tips over every part of your body.

I want to hear your secrets murmured just for me, with my lips pressed to your neck.

I want to find out your dreams, while I send you to sleep.

I want to make you never want to die, as I hug you for the first time.

I've told you mine, now will you share yours with me...

If you were a cigarette
I'd be the lighter.
The flames that rip through your body
Destroy you completely
Burns you to the core
And leaves you as nothing

The smoke will be the memory of us
Passed on and second hand to fade away as quickly as it came to be.

If you were a cigarette
I'd be a lighter
Erupting with danger
Causing pain at the touch
And going along with anyone who takes a fancy to what they see on the surface
Anyone who pockets me
Ready to burn the life out of more cigarettes
More like you
And lose a little of myself in the process.

The numbness gave way to pain
Leaving me wanting to hurt myself again.

Engulfed by the darkness
Or lack of life
My shadow has deserted me
And my demons have gifted me with a knife.

I don't want to cut
Or obey
I don't want to hurt
Or do what they say

They want me to burn
And cry
And break down
Leaving the pieces- a million and one

I don't want to leave the people I love
Or sacrifice the oppertunity to rise above
I don't want to die tonight
But they want me to.

I'm out numbered
By more-than-I-can-count to one.
And there are enough of them to block out the sun
And destroy my light.

They come bearing gifts
Of thoughts and feelings
The ones I cast aside
Along with t demons

But they raised hell
And brought an army
They're here to ruin me
And **** me

They sent my shadow away
And none of my friends are here to stay.
They've come to unleash their wrath
And keep the numbness at bay

My demons are here to choke the happiness out of me
Starve me of optimism
Bleed me dry of happiness
And drown me in sorrow

They're here to make up for lost time
They won't waste a moment
They're moving in for the ****
And I'll die without my motivation or will

I was amazing.
Genuinely happy.
I was confident, comfortable and enjoying myself.
I was incontrol
I was valued
I was needed
And I was with my family.
I felt safe with Him. With Them. And with everyone else.
It was fabulous.
It was cold.
It was tiring.
And it did not consist of much sleep
But I was happy and comfortable and I got to know Them more.
But it was fun and enjoyable.

But now
With Him gone.
Without Them.
It returns to normal.
It returns to that which I hate.
It is the routine that you cannot seem to break out of.
It is that constant drone of information,
Beig criticized,
And noise.
It is bed, eat, school, sport, homework, eat, sleep, repeat. And it is only music that can get me through. As D said.
But without Him or Them ,
Those who I feel are my family
I am alone.
Because my school friends don't feel like friends at all anymore.
And I can no longer find the motivation to breathe.

I don't know why I crash so badly after beig high,
But I can't take the bad with the good when the good is no longer sweet.
So I turn to my blade,
My only friend to keep.

" Sometime " isn't Sometimes. It's not occasionally. It is the future.

Just because Sometime is a variable you haven't figured out yet, does not mean there isn't an answer.

It's like solving for x , like mathematics- something You're good at- just because you don't know the answer when reading the question , but there is always an answer, a solution.

There may be a solution, an answer , to this equation that I am now a part of. But I hope that, despite what I lack in the department of math, I thoroughly hope you see me as your equal, and that I will not become just an ex.

You said you hadn't figured it out yet, but you're smart and I trust you.


"Yes" is just a word, an answer.
Not a promise, an agreement.

" Sometime ", however is a promise.  
A promise for the future. And I will hold you to it.

The only reason you care so much is because it happened to Him
If it happened to me, I swer, you wouldn't be half as grim.

I've apologised, I've cried
And I honestly wish I had died.

I know what I did and said was wrong
But I've apologised so much it's as if I'm a mainstream repetitive song.

However , you calling me pathetic does nothing to help your side
And im struggling to just take this in my stride.

I understand that what I did was unnecessary and mean
But that was never my intention and you might understand if you didn't have to act like a queen

Yes! I know I behaved like an awful **
But I see in me making a mistake, you finally took your pick  

You eventually chose him over me,
And now I'm left to watch and see.

I would undo it if I could, in a heartbeat,
But it was stupid of me to think you'd stay and not make me feel like *******, although that's no feat.

Forgive my stupidity and irrationality
I hope you'll be able to live from now on peacefully.

I haven't written in a while
Because I've been kidding myself that I'm okay.
But the truth is
I only feel when I am about to decay.

I write becuse it makes sense
When my thoughts do not.
But when I cover it up
I do too well.
I actually believe it.
But then I'm worse when I break, because I actually believed I had fixed a part of myself.

My biggest problem though, is fixing a part of me with you. Because then I break so much more when something goes wrong.

And I break
Crumble
Shatter.

And it's worse because its not just You. It's Him. And Them.
And nothing is going right right now
So I write.
Because I can't cry.
Because I refuse to be that weak.
I refuse to be who I was. Yet I won't let her go.

But right now
I'm broken
And bruised
And scarred
In pieces
Alone.

Three words that broke my heart.
I chose you

You made me the happiest I had been that day.
But those three words tore me down, lower than I have been in a long while.

It was never your intention and I hope I made you happy.

I will try better next time. And in the future. I swear on my worthless life.

You deserve so. much. better...
I chose you

Three. little. sweet. words.
From. such. a. sweet. man.


There are words that will forever go unspoken from my lips, unless they are to meet with yours.

And I know in my cold, filthy heart that you deserve far much more than whatever I can even attempt to offer you.
However.
I will try my hardest to be everything You deserve.
I will try my best to be
pretty
And kind.
happy and
open.
I will try to make you happy, and to be your savior. You are not broken, but I wish to help you build yourself higher, and make you see yourself as highly as I see you.

But for your sake, I do hope you are not my knight in shining armour.
For your sake.

For your sake, I wish you never chose me.

The sky was not a pitch black
But an inviting charcoal glow
Illuminated by only the full moon and twenty seven stars We sighted.

With the hard ground beneath us
And the cold all around us
After the silent goodnight
All boundaries dissolved into the bitter chill.

I savored the look of his peaceful sleeping face, so close to mine
And the sound of his deep breathing when he drifted off to sleep.
But most of all, I cherished the warmth of him near me
And he did the same
But I will never forget how wonderful it felt to have that slight contact with Him
And the feeling that I make things more pleasant for Him

No one notices, until she tells them.
No one cares until it affects them.

She's falling apart
She's crying
She's begging you
She's on the edge
She's about to give up
She's in too deep
She's drowning in her tears
She's sad
She's getting bad again
She needs you.

But you won't notice until you read this.
And no one will care until it affects them.

I am scarred.
That is who I am.
I'm a F R E A K
         A
  B  I  T C H

WEAK

And I always will be.
Because even if those words fade from my skin
They will never fade from my heart or mind.

All the tines I tried to fix myself by breaking my skin
All the times I tried to repeat myself by tearing my flesh
All the times I tried to get a high by putting myself down
Are etched on my skin

And that is who I am.  

I am scarred.
Not because of what everyone else did,
But because of the way I dealt with it.
That is why I haven't been scarred
I am Scarred.

All people express it differently yet all people need a specific way to accept it and its like a lock and key but you can't use your own key.

People express love differently to the way that they want to receive it and that's kind of where love gets lost in translation

I wish she knew

I wish I knew what I was thinking.
I wish he knew

She is beautiful

His words are beautiful

Good God she is beautiful.
Rapture

I hate myself for what I have done to him.

I need to get drunk*

I need to bleed myself dry of my thoughts of him

I'll collect my tears

I'll throw away my blood

In a jar the size of my love for myself

I'll chose a blade as sharp as my feelings for him

I'm actually going to try for once

I should have let him go

I'll get roses and a bowl of ice

I'll get my rope, get my knife. I'll get that which I've collected to end my life.

To catch the blood drop for everytime she says no

I should just leave, just go. It's not like he will ever know.

Then I'll take that bowl, put it in front of her, break it and say " well now that we have broken the ice....."

I know I will miss the lips I never got to kiss, but I must go.

Then I'll just break myself , what I am, thinking she would never love me

I will never be good enough for him, I am only robbing him of his happiness and making his life grim.

That's is, I'm calling her now (calls her)

I should say goodbye , but I'll never be able to face the pain. I'll just **** myself now so he can start to benefit and gain (cuts her wrists)

(Your phone rings) don't back out now

(Answers and says "goodbye ")

*I knew it (walks to his drawer, finds his gun and screams "die" and is gone)

I want to write.
I want to talk.
I want to cry
I want to run away.
I want to die.

But I can't.

I don't know what to put on paper.
I don't know what to say.
I don't know how to cry.
I don't know how to move.
I don't know ******* myself.

So I can't.
But I want to.
And it's the thought that counts.