roses were red
violets were blue
now they are black
i dont know what to do

my life is in shambles
my heart beats too fast
my stomachs constantly turning
and i find myself fumbling

i found a new hobby
one you'll love too
its called counting the lines
and colouring them too.

my choice is long
with lots to follow
as the red paint sets in
tears well in my eyes.

you see i draw with a blade across my skin and paint with my blood which seems so thin for it's pouring out fast and there is no telling if its stopping
I'm too tired to play more.
Good Night and Good COUNTING.

-been

I feel like falling apart.
As if the paint was peeling off the walls and showing me my true reality.
I dont know what else to do
This existentially crippling feeling makes me want to ***** the lunch i never ate
Wanting to grab a shotgun and point it to my brain
Maybe then, ill end the pain

I cut myself again tonight
And my skin parted like the Red Sea
I am Moses.
I cut open my inside thigh
Hiding my disease, so no one could see,
Looks can be deceiving.

I covered my wounds with plasters;
Envying the way plasters hid pain,
Much Better than I did.
I took care of my wounds
Incase of infection, so I would never have to explain
Why my thighs cracked like volcanoes.

I drew thick safety lines
Thick enough to block out feelings
This is apathy.
I became reborn every morning
After baptising in my holy tears
God will receive me.

I had no faith to walk over the waters
Terrified that the waters would drown me
I am Peter.
I keep self sacrificing, hanging myself on the cross
For my sins that I can't stop committing
I am Jesus,
Or is this blasphemy?

I have yet to find a word that describes the beauty in which an object unravels.
There is, however, infinite words to express the madness one must possess in order to fall in love with destruction.

I do not know why the ruins of hearts I've never known stain my hands like the tar from a fire I never set,
Or why I feel like an arsonist everytime I try to wash the ashes from my fingers,
But I do know that I have said more prayers for the chaotic than for the sick.
I know that while the English language has yet to supply me with a single word to sum up why I find hope in endings,
I can describe in detail the way the walls of my bedroom burn like they are being ravaged by the flames of my psyche,
And how I have never felt more at home than when everything is crumpling around me. 

When I try to explain that I have never felt safer than when my ribs were tearing in two,
Please do not deem me insane.
As if the concept of the deterioration of my own brain has not fascinated me since the first time "we're all mad here" snaked it's way through my consciousness.
I am a white rabbit,
Setting my pocket watch ten minutes fast,
Just to see who will run with me.
Digging holes in my skin,
Hoping someone will fall through.
And if I am mad,
Then you must be too,
For we are all just spilled ink,
Dying to turn blue.

I've been slitting my wrist
Trying to the numb the pain of a frightful Tuesday night
It's not working
What have I become?
Never thought I would commit such
Funny enough during that moment I felt nothing
No hurt, no pain and no shame
The feelings came to haunt me when I'm in my thoughts
Every night it was the same story
I cried but it wasn't enough
Shouting for help but it fell on deaf ears
One came to save me
The razor came to save me
It's not painful when I slit it just creates an ich
The Ich makes me forget

I can't stop crying
So I go to my room
Go look look for my help
Slit slit slit .
I'm still crying I must stop
Slit slit slit
Its starting to ich I'm almost there
Slit slit slit.
My cheeks are now dry .
I made it
I've stopped crying
The disappointing actions vanished
The sad life I live just .... Faded .

Darkness consumes me
Swallows me in
Waves of destruction
crashing around me
Chiseling at my soul
Hacking away
All resolve and reason
until all that is left
Is a corroded soul
Desolate
Destroyed
Depraved
A silent echo
Of the woman I once was

Stop! She's hurting
Everyday all she thinks about is dying
She doesn't want to hear anything
because she would always end up crying

Her mom doesn't understand
she had nothing, including her dad
everyone around her is mad
not knowing they're the reason why she's sad

they're so fond of humiliating her
including her dearest mother
she always hides on a corner
isolating herself, thinking it will be over


She had nothing left, but the blade
it's her bestfriend & her aid
all the sufferings temporarily fade
with her blood dripping when she laid

She finally did it
She had the nerve
It came as easy as 1,2,3
For you and me.

This was her breaking point
Her time to fly high
End all this pain inside
to just call it her end.

In her manic state
Impulse hit her
She wraps the rope
Around her neck

She pulls it tight
Her tears fall
Her breathing becomes
Shallow and painful
The room starts grow dark.

Time passes
uncertainty as to how long.
What is going on?
Am I still alive?
Why is it so cold?

I'm numb.
I cant feel anything.
No pain.
No love.
Nothing.
Its...

Perfect.
After all this searching
For what is missing
I have finally found it!
I've never felt better!

Then...
I start to see a light again
and breathing becomes even more painful
and the pain starts to come back..

NO
WAIT!
I'm happy here!
I fight, I resist
I don't want to go back
I cry - more pain
I feel - more heartbreaking tears
I remember - more terrifying memories
The world growing heavier upon my shoulders again.

I'm back..
What I once thought for a brief minute or two was my new safe place, Inner-peace pain free zone was only an attempt.

Now the question that circles is
WHY did you save me?






Right before Christmas (2015) the stress built up and I "tried" to **** myself. Though i did succeed for a brief moment and it was an attempt cause my s.o. found me and brought me back to life. though i am still sitting here question why and wondering what my purpose is. Ive had a tad bit of writers block but i want to get this story out there too so this is all i can get hopefully at a later date there can be a better poem.

If anyone is struggling with depression and ever is stopping to this level I am here to talk and I encourage it all I needed that night was someone to talk to and no one was there for me prior to the moment.

Who wants to play a game of never have I ever ?

Rules, I'll say something and if you have never done it .. Lower a finger !

Let's start !

Never have I ever cried myself to sleep ?
Whoops there goes one
Never have I ever self harmed ?
Whoops there's number two
Never have I ever starved myself ?
Whoops number three, I'm good at this !

Oh I forgot to tell you the looser dies :)

Never have I ever used the words "I'm fine" ?
Fourth finger down !
Last question ...
Never have I ever fallen in love ?

Closed fist I won, time to say goodbye, it's okay don't be sad ! I've
Been waning to go for a long time ...

Thanks for playing my game :)

Good side huh?
Funny isn't it?
All you do is be good,
Because that's what everyone wants you to do.
But you don't be good to yourself,
Instead your hurt yourself.
You see,
That's what they don't realise,
That you're just a boy,
Not a toy.
That can be used and thrown away,
To endure the pain another day.