True pain is never something that you can see easily.

I'm the girl who ***** at sport and lies to get out of games.
I'm the girl who stresses too much, who spoils the moment.
I'm the girl that looks in the mirror and wants to cry because she can never look beautiful.
I'm the girl who has to fight with herself to breathe.
I'm the girl that can never be happy for her friends achievements
because she knows that she will never amount to anything.
I'm the girl that has breakdowns in class because she can't handle failure.
I'm the girl that curls up in a ball with her hands on her head and tries to block out the demons in her head.
I'm the girl that makes herself bleed.
I'm the girl that wishes she was dead.
Yeah,
I'm that girl.

But,
I'm the girl that people rely on.
I'm the girl that my friends ask for help from.
I'm the girl that gets perfect grades.
I'm the girl that is told she looks beautiful.
I'm the girl that people would **** to be.

But what they don't know is that that girl is killing me.

I can't move,
And I can't breathe,
And my hands are shaking at the thought of starting to leave.
And I don't know if I want to say goodbye,
So please don't give me a reason why.

Dear manipulative boyfriend,
I'm sorry that I never stood up for myself,
or commented on your sexist remarks,
or the daily jokes about mental health
or suicide.
I see now that that was my mistake,
I just never wanted to be "that feminazi *****" you always talked about.

Dear manipulative boyfriend,
I'm sorry that my depression made me suicidal,
because I know that that was such an inconvenience for you.
And that my anxiety was so bad that I had panic attacks at the thought of you loving someone else.
I see now that that was my mistake,
because I shouldn't have had feelings too.
How stupid of me.

Dear manipulative boyfriend,
I'm sorry that I didn't understand why you wouldn't come near me,
why you could only love me on your own terms,
or why you would go for days without looking at me.
I see now that that was my mistake,
because I shouldn't have though that I deserved love.

Dear manipulative boyfriend,
I'm sorry that you talked to my best friend behind my back,
when you wouldn't even look me in the eye.
All the times that you flirted with her,
and she flirted back.
I see now that that was my mistake,
because I should have known that I wasn't good enough for you.

Dear manipulative boyfriend,
I'm sorry that you broke up with me over text,
because you were "too much of a coward" to do it in person,
while you filmed the whole thing while your friend watched,
and laughed as my heart broke.
I see now that that was my mistake,
because I shouldn't have expected anything kinder.

Dear manipulative ex-boyfriend,
I'm sorry that my mental health was "just for attention",
and that I started to get better without you.
Or that I could actually laugh,
and smile,
and not hate myself for it.
I see now that that was my mistake,
I didn't deserve happiness.

Dear manipulative ex-boyfriend,
I'm sorry that you had to take away the last shred of hope I had,
that dumping me and destroying my reputation was so ******* you,
that when I tried to tell our friends why I couldn't be around you,
you made them drive me to tears,
and drive me away.
I see now that that was my mistake,
I should have known that you would infect them too.
It's like you were poisonous.

Dear manipulative ex-boyfriend,
I'm sorry that you turned my friends against me,
that you became violent and aggressive,
that you took out your anger about me on our shocked and confused friends,
that you thought you could treat everyone else just like you treated me.
I see now that that was my mistake,
because I should have done something to stop you before it was too late...








Dear his next girlfriend,
I'm sorry that I didn't try hard enough to show him that what he was doing was wrong,
you are strong enough to stand up to him.
I forgive you for going behind my back,
I knew it was coming from the start.
Remember that you are not alone,
and that you never really did made any mistakes,
because it wasn't your fault you were dating someone so toxic.

I love you,
and I will be here for you
when he breaks you.

The ground is as cold as her hands are,
As cold as her tears in the snow.

This place, she calls it; The Weeping Willow,
Because all she ever does here is cry.

It's branches hang lovingly over her head,
It's leaves mirroring her hair over her face,
Mirrored by the water.

It's a wonder that the tree can even stand;
It's been watered with nothing but salt-water and heartbreak.


Surely something born from the broken
Should never be whole to start with.

You told me not to cry,
so I never will again.

I internalise my tears until they nearly overflow,
until I'm fit to burst,
and the strain could **** anyone who comes too close.
And pressed deep inside my heart,
those tears will turn to ice
that creeps like frost through my frozen blood.

And you ask me why my hands are cold.

Now I wont say I have a frozen heart -
because I'm not devoid of feeling.
But my lungs are tipped with ice
and my veins are the blue of frost,
the whites of my eyes are as weepingly white
as freshly fallen snow.
I don't know if I'm cold because of the weight I've lost
or whether I've just lost all of my heat.

I'm scared you'll warm my heart,
because I know that if you do
I wont be able to stop the tears from flowing,
and they'll never stop.

Something I've learned about people,
is that no-one really understands perspective.
Not everyone knows just how much **** I'm going through,
even though I try my best to help them understand.
And that it's no one else's fault.
And that it's OK for me to feel worse because of it.
Something I've learned about people,
is that you have to make a huge god-**** effort to get your point across.
Even though you could just as easily hold up a sign saying 'For ***** Sake, Help Me', most people are blind to it.
And that it's not that they don't care,
It's that they don't know how do deal with it.

Something I've learned about life,
is that it really isn't what it's cracked up to be.
Not everyone gets a good deal out of it, and not everyone can be happy, no matter how well off they are.
And that people don't mean to be oblivious,
And that even if you tell them that - they'll always forget.
Something I've learned about life,
is that everyone goes through ****.
Some people have it worse off than others, but everyone assumes that their **** was worse.
And that everyone needs to shut up and listen.
And that 'everyone' includes yourself.

Something I've learned about myself,
is that I can be so **** mean when I'm not careful.
That sometimes I just need to say it straight and not worry about the consequences.
And that sometimes, it's OK to cry.
And that I shouldn't be ashamed of that.
Something I've learned about myself,
is that I need to be aware of myself.
I should stop focusing on others, and start giving a **** about myself.
And that keeping it in is only temporary,
And that eventually, we all have to burst.

but what good does that do me?
None.
because I'm still a huge ******* mess.

I'm sorry, but how the hell is this my fault?

My tears on a pillow,
my heart on a page,
and no-one knows how I've tried to escape this cage.
Do they even know my name?
Or am I just know by the times I've let out my pain?

Throw open the darkness
and let me in,
shout up to the heavens about my sins.
No, don't you dare tell me
to bear this pain;
I want you to promise me
that you'll remember my name.

Something is dying
inside my soul,
but no-one cared when my spirit died long ago.
Is it worth waiting for God above?
I wonder if I was with him,
would I feel loved?

*Throw open the darkness
and let me in,
shout out to the heavens about my sins.
No, don't you dare tell me
to bear this pain;
I want you to promise me
that you'll remember my name.

Cushions at the window,
and bed-spreads on the floor,
sits a girl with chestnut hair,
staring at the walls;
she's quiet and she's funny,
she's pretty and she's smart,
but she feels the things that you don't say,
and it hurts her bleeding heart.

Cause she don't know,
oh no she don't;
she don't know that her smile lights up the room
and that her light can carry far.
And she don't know,
and she don't care
that every time she hides her tears
her pretty face goes bare.

Sadness shapes her figure
and tear-stains ***** her cheeks.
she sits alone on a bathroom floor -
it's been happening all **** week.
Her friends wouldn't understand;
cause it's something she keeps inside,
so she runs downstairs to the girls bathroom -
'cause it's something she tries to hide.

cause she don't know,
oh no, she don't;
she don't know that her smile lights up the room
or that her light can carry far.
And she don't know,
and she don't care
that every time she hides her tears
her pretty face goes bare.

And she don't know.

I'm trapped in a room with no restraints
but my wrist are bleeding in their chains,
ah, ah.
ah, ah.
And the tears are streaming down my face,
but my cheeks are drier in their place,
ah, ah.
ah, ah.

because every time I run out the room
I stumble back in,
my hands are tied and my patience tried
and I'm wearing quite thin,
Now, I'm not one for wasting time
so I'll keep it all in
in the chains that I built
of my sin.

Oh, these walls are like a stranger to me;
they show me my face, but it's not me that I see,
ah, ah.
ah, ah.
I curl up in bed with my legs drawn close
because it's the simple things that I need the most.
ah, ah.
ah, ah.

because every time I run out the room
I stumble back in,
my hands are tied and my patients tied
and I'm wearing quite thin.
Now, I'm not one for wasting time,
so I'll keep it all in
in the chains that I built
of my sin.

because every time I ran out that room
and I stumbled back in,
my courage froze as my eyelids closed;
It's been wearing quite thin.
Now, I know I'm loved, but I can't breathe,
I can't take it all in.
so I'm trapped,
tearing pieces
off
my
skin.

I sit there like a balloon, fit to burst,
and no one even turns their head.
I've been pushed, and pushed, and pushed and pushed andI'mjustsogoddamntiredofitallandIjustwanttoscream.
How can they not have noticed?
I mean, it's not like I'm trying to hide it,
I'm long past that.
Do I really mean that little to them that they never noticed me before?
Have I always looked as depressed on the outside as I am on the inside?
I know they care - I know they do.
I just need them to notice me for once.
notice me when I need them most.

I don't know what will set me off,
or how explosive I'll be when it does;
Once I start, I'm never really sure that I can stop.
Will it be the picture of upset, my hands linked behind my head, legs drawn close, unable to stop the tears from spilling out of my painfully red eyes - uncontrollable sadness.
Or will it be screaming anxiety, my claws finding their usual tearing spots in my scalp, my body trembling with the effort of not screaming at the top of my lungs and falling to literal pieces on the polished floors.
Or will it be like last-time; small, silent self-pitying.
unnoticeable.
The kind that come out of no-where and takes you by surprise, that you cant do anything about or someone will see, the kind that you hide with your hands whilst pretending that you're getting on with your work and not wishing that you were dead.

you never know with me - it's just one of the many flaws of my mind.
so please - please - just notice me now.