I drew a butterfly on my wrist
To stop this habit which persists
But I broke down and started to cry
The butterfly was torn apart and I had to lie
Once again, I had tried to get myself out
But my thoughts were much too loud
My butterfly, Wes, lived only two days
All he was trying to do was help me change my ways

The loudness inside my mind
Is preventing me from going to bed
It's hell--
Having to sit here while the words,
Pictures, music, faces and events
Whirl through your mind like a tornado.
There's a dark cloud trapped there, constantly raining on my mood.
Through it all, I sit,
Peaceful as if in the eye of the hurricane,
I sit and let my mind eat away at me and pretend that things are still alright
And hoping someone will see that they're not
Hoping someone will notice that I'm this close...

I have friends
Not people I can talk to when I'm having a breakdown at 3 a..m.
Not people I can count on for important things
Not people who will support me through my worst times.
Who won't judge me no matter what
Who will try to help me.
I have friends
Not people who will love me unconditionally
Not people who I can call when my family is talking **** again
Not people who truly care about my well-being.

I have
Friends

Lucky me

I want to **** myself
But I'm afraid of hell

Monday morning, or Friday night.
I don't care what day it is—I'd rather not be alive

I love the way his brown eyes light up
When he speaks about the things of which he is fond.
I guess you could say I love
Him.

I **** everything up
So,
I suggest you stay away