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YOU LEFT BRUISES ON MY FACE WHEN YOU LEFT
BUT THE BRUISE THAT'S THE MOST PROMINENT IS THE ONE
THAT'S STUCK IN MY BRAIN
BETWEEN MY MEMORIES AND MY SANITY
BROKEN BONES AND BRUISED BODIES CAN'T COMPARE
TO THE WAY YOU TORE MY VEINS APART
AND INSERTED YOURSELF INTO MY BLOODSTREAM

NIGHTMARES OF YOU PREVENT ME FROM SLEEPING
CAN'T GET YOU OUT NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY
I'M EXHALING YOU INTO CIGARETTE SMOKE
AND SOON, I WON'T BE ABLE TO TASTE YOU
JUST THE TASTE OF THE TOBACCO
AND THE SMOKE IN MY THAT THAT WILL NO LONGER
BURN AS IF I'M SAYING YOUR NAME

IF I THINK HARD ENOUGH
THE DIRT UNDERNEATH MY FINGERNAILS
BECOMES THE ROSE THORNS IN YOUR SMILE
WHEN YOU RAN YOUR FINGERS THROUGH MY HAIR AND SAID
"IT'LL ALL BE OKAY, JUST YOU WAIT"
YET THE COOL WIND IS YOUR VOICE
EARLY IN THE MORNING
WHEN YOU SHOOK ME AWAKE
AND WHISPERED, "WE NEED TO GO"

LATELY I'VE BEEN BURNING MEMORIES OF YOU
BUT I CAN'T BURN YOU OUT OF MY MIND
WHERE YOU REMOVED MY BRAIN
AND REPLACED IT WITH YOUR OWN
DIZZY DISTANCES AND DETACHED DESIRES CAN'T COMPARE
TO THE WAY YOU TORE MY VEINS APART
AND INSERTED YOURSELF INTO MY BLOODSTREAM
inspired by chuck palahniuk.
I wrote my way out of the dark pages of my life.
I know what it's like to see your life hanging by a thread;
scraping your skin with your fingernails to stop yourself from crying;
weaving scars on your skin to get some high out of life.

Smiling on the outside, but tearing up on the inside.
I've been there,
disguising last rites as declarations of love;
holding out for that one guy for some unjust reason.
I was once told I was beautiful on the inside,
I used to scoff at that thought.
I couldn't be beautiful,
my metaphorical skin was sewed and patched, ruined and defiled
and there was nothing beautiful about that.
It took me a while to see that beauty for myself.
I was once that one girl sitting in corner at midnight
contemplating suicide over family tiffs, unrequited love, loss, loneliness, and every other
stuff that I couldn't deal with.
I can't look at my left wrist
without feeling some sort of disgust because of the tallies of pain
I left behind.

I had this habit of saying 'I'm always good' whenever asked
but I got tired of seeing illusions as reality,
I was tired of escaping my own life. I was not okay and I needed help.

I wish somebody had told me
this sooner:

MELANCHOLY IS NOT TRENDY, DEPRESSION IS NOT COOL,
CUTTING IS NOT A FASHION STATEMENT
SADNESS IS NOT ATTRACTIVE

It's actually sad that we,
teenagers,
advertise sadness as if it's something to be proud of.  

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL
YOU DON'T NEED VALIDATION FROM PEOPLE
DON'T LET HIM TELL YOU HE LIKES YOU BETTER WHEN YOU'RE BROKEN.
NO, SCARS DO NOT MAKE YOU ATTRACTIVE
SOME SCARS AREN'T WORTH HAVING
CRAZY IS NOT ****
**** IS NOT ALWAYS ****** SHEDDING A FEW KILOS WON'T MAKE HIM LIKE YOU ANY MORE THAN HE DOES
UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS DON'T HEAL --words I wish I'd  heard sooner

You are not broken beyond repair

YOU ARE A PHOENIX,
A PHOENIX MUST BURN TO EMERGE.
I've read so many poems here about suicide, self harm, eating disorders and so many heartbreaking things (I admit, some of them my own) and it's just really sad. I'm not judging. Maybe I'm just growing up, I don't know. I'm just at a happy place in my life right now
I have writers block
but i think that i shouldnt
because when your life is falling apart
shouldnt you feel compelled to create something better
and yet i dont
i dont feel impelled
I dont feel inspired
I feel empty
as if the world has finally taken the last parts of me
I feel nothing
and me feeling nothing
was suppose to be better than feeling something
let me tell you its not
its like sitting in a dark room
as the walls come in
and all you can do is stare at the floor
your not scared
your not frightened
you dont want to find a way out
and that scares me
why do i feel this way
i should want to change
and yet all i can do is sit here
watching the  walls close in
The ice it clinks
the straw it stirs
you're making drinks
that won't drown her

She's up all night
you put her to bed
but she puts up a fight
falls asleep with the drink in her hand

Sneak out for a smoke
she's fast asleep anyway
when I came back, she awoke
baby why'd you go away?

But shh you're there now
she's already passed out again
with her little body curled around
yours, she's asleep with a grin.


*s.mndi
vi
capricorn: someday you'll wake up and the sun will be reaching down your throat saying her batteries ran out and she needs to borrow yours
aquarius: someday you'll realize that a hurricane without an eye isn't worth it and i hope that's today
pisces: someday your mom will give you a life altering piece of advice and you'll sit for a minute and then disregard the entire thing
aries: someday you'll bite your tongue and someone else will scream in pain, you'll look at him and someone else will fall in love, congrats
taurus: someday you'll be the reason they whisper "love hurts just like morning coffee" in the hallways
gemini: someday the government will have made laws prohibiting certain behaviors, and all because of you
cancer: someday someone will grab your hands and tell you that they love you and yes, you should probably abandon hopes of being decent now
leo: someday you'll make the conscious decision to love someone and then wonder why it didn't work like you thought it would
virgo: someday you'll meet someone who you talk about sunsets and road trips and being the human embodiment of a storm with; love them hard
libra: someday you'll abandon taking photos of the sky and you'll later find yourself tasting colors in the back of your throat
scorpio: someday you'll get a coffee and give your name and the barista will write "very sad looking girl that looks like a walking orchid"
sagittarius**: someday the sun will stop asking for your half of the rent
january:
"you fill my lungs with meaning,
and i'm exhaling my reason for living.
even though it hasn't been cold for months,
i can see my breath like the smoke
you blew in my face when you told me you liked me
morethanafriend and i asked if that meant best friends"

february:
"the real question is how do you tell someone you might be in love with them and you slit your wrists and took some pills last weekend because of it?"

march:
"i think
in the most simplest way
you are my everything.
i don't need anything more than i need you
not even oxygen,
i could breathe you in
and my lungs would work better
than ever.
you could bump the blood through my veins
my heart just might pump properly
the steady beat beat of a heart
opposed to the frantic beep beep of life support
you make me
strong and free
full of love and want
instead of illness and an i.v."

april:
"i want your hands wrapped around my throat. i want all the metaphors to become a reality. i want your fingernails leaving marks on my pale skin. i want knives because your nails aren't sharp enough. i want bruises and scars all over my body. i want people to ask me why and how. i want to let them know and i want to watch the glares and listen to the shouts when you walk past. i want everyone to see every word you've ever said to me, every single time the blade pierced my skin. i want them all to stop seeing me as a lonely little girl who's desperate for attention, but as a victim. a victim from everything you've ever said and done to me."

may:
"'i fall for people way too fast.'
'i know it'd be really easy to fall for you.'


W H Y
can't i stop thinking?
do i even care?
does this resonate?
did i write this down?
did i get involved?
am i the one you trust?
don't i know?
did this even start?
do i put trust in people?
did i get so close?
don't i think about?
am i so sorry?"

june:
"[...] i'm going to **** myself and if anyone gives any ******* CONSPIRACIES AS TO WHY I KILLED MYSELF I'M HAUNTING EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU PLEASE JUST PUBLISH ALL OF THIS I HATE YOU ALL STOP ACTING LIKE SOFT GRUNGE IS ANYTHING YOU'RE ALL TWELVE KURT COBAIN IS DEAD GET OVER IT"

july:
"i want to be in the backseat of a care where 'belmont' is only the name of the avenue by my uncle's house and coughing is from a cold. i want to be in utero with booming voices of people i've never met, trying to figure out what life is and how i'm going to get out. i want to sit in the back of my parents' car, heading back from my uncles around one in the morning, counting canadian flags to try and stay awake. i want to be twenty five, visiting my home for the first time all year, enjoying my parents' presence again. i want to have no idea what words like anxiety mean and my nightmares are of clowns, not the sickening reality i'm living in."

july:
"we kiss
and we are the first human beings
to ever experience perfection
because nothing has ever been
this wonderful and so so beautiful

and as we kiss
i am making vows against your lips
'don't **** this up dont **** this up
dontfuckthisupdntfckthsp'

but we are still kissing
and i'm whispering, 'i love you'
it's too much for you and i know
i've already ****** this up"

august:
"when we met i was like a broken puzzle piece. you folded me so the crease on my side from being broken was still noticeable, but i fit perfectly. at first, i felt out of place. like you had just jammed me in there. i tried to fit in other places and for a while, it worked.

but i always ended up back in that same first spot."

september:
"THERE ARE ALWAYS REASONS FOR FALLING FOR THE WRONG PEOPLE. YOU JUST HAVE TO LOOK FOR THEM. IT MIGHT BE A LIFE LESSON OR IT MIGHT BE TO GUIDE YOU TO THE PERSON YOU BELONG. MAYBE YOU MET SOMEONE OUT OF THEM. MAYBE THEY INTRODUCED YOU TO GOOD MUSIC. MAYBE THEY MADE YOU WATCH YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE. YOU HAVE TO STAY POSITIVE. NOT EVERYTHING IS A NEGATIVE EXPERIENCE."

october:
"today i decided i needed to stop thinking about you.
i smashed my wrist against the headboard
until all i could think about was pain.
when it started to bruise,
the colour reminded me of your hair."

november:
"fuckshitfuck
you're in the other room and i haven't seen you in so long and i guess i thought maybe i was over being in love with you but i'm definitely not i just want to reach for your hand and tell you how beautiful your eyes are and how badly you make me laugh i want to cover your ******* body with poetry ******* for making me feel like this"

december:**
"the cold winter air makes me wonder
how long it's been
since the first time you kissed me and said you loved me
then pretend like it never happened

the snow on the ground makes me wonder
how long it's been
since i left and swore never to speak to you again
only to tell you i missed you a day later

the ice from my rooftop makes me wonder
how long it's been
since i buried a hole in the cold icy centre of your heart
and called it home"
actual excerpts from a journal i've had for two years

transitions from who i was to who i am

— The End —