Some days, I wish you were dead.
But then I feel bad
Because these days you always seem sad
And I wish I could know why, but I can't ask.
Why did you ever come back?

Things aren't the way they used to be
Used to have feelings but too many people ruined me
And I could blame them but it's clear to see
It's my fault. Should've never let them get near to me

Giving everything just to stay under the influence
Because I can't feel pain if I can't even feel my face
And I'm addicted to being numb and all the memories it can erase
I'm ****** up, yes, and I can't remember how I got that way

There's a dark paradise in my mind
Pitch black thoughts
Cloudy images
And what comes out of my mouth are venomous words
It scares me sometimes
To be who I am
Because everything is fine, but I want to die

Does anyone notice that I don't really have headaches? That I just blindly take these pills, wondering, as they slide down my throat, if they can possibly numb this dull pain inside my chest?

Why is it even possible to be this unhappy? I don't think I've ever cried so many times a day; so many days in a row. My eyes are never dry anymore—I'm always on the verge of bursting into tears. Meanwhile, the teachers think I'm wearing sunglasses indoors just to be rebellious.

It's a terrible feeling when you greet your parents and your mother ignores you. It's also a terrible feeling when you come home from hell (read: school) and she looks at you in disgust and even ignores your friend's "hello", forcing you to explain that it's not you she hates, it's me. I'm sorry. All this because you made one mistake. I should have died at birth. I wish I had. Perhaps then, I wouldn't be such a disappointment to everyone I come in contact with.

Would it really be so bad if I killed myself? The thing is, I would make an effort to stay alive, but I'm just so ******* tired. I'm tired of all these tears, letting everyone down, being so insecure, being treated like complete **** and then being expected not to be fazed by it. I'm just ******* tired. I'm tired I'm tired I'm tired I'm tired I'm tired. And I'm hurt.

Suicide could be the answer if I let it be. I just want peace.

I had a dream about you last night—
You let me bury my face in your chest as I cried
We stood there and you wrapped your arms around me
As if this all came naturally.
I told you to let me go; I didn't want you seeing me a perfect mess
But you said you don't like seeing me upset
I had a dream about you last night.
Do you even care?

3a.m. isn't a time where you should be staring at the razor
Wondering whether or not you want to throw away months of progress
For one night of relapse
It's a time where you should be lost in slumber,
Dreaming of the day your deepest desires become reality
Like I dream of the day I'll give someone my heart and they won't drop it like it's on fire,
And they won't watch it shatter and think stupid girl, it's your own fault

Please tell me why the **** I'm not good enough for anyone
There's got to be someone who can fall in love with my dark soul
My under-rested cynical brain
These hollow eyes that show nothing but misery and pain
There's got to be someone who can ******* handle my dark and twisted insides
Someone who'll see the worst in me and want me even more

Deep down, I know it won't happen
It's just a fleeting dream and I don't expect anything to come of it
It's 3:45 in the morning and I hate myself

Night and day bleed into one another
No longer can I differentiate between one or the other

They both comprise the nightmares that keep me awake all night
Biting my nails and biding my time

My eyes are open. Do they ever close?
What day is it? Does anyone know?

I'm falling now
And I'm afraid of what's happening
I fear getting hurt
So I keep my heart under lock and key
I won't let myself want you
Because I know where that may lead
Heartbreaks and nostalgia, ****
How much worse can this be?

I won't leave my heart out anymore
Just so it can get broken
But I'm fascinated with the words you speak
Do you see my dilemma?
Should I just accept the pure possibility?

People ask me why I cut my own skin
It's kind of hard, but I'll try to explain.
It's like a pressure inside me,
And there's no way to let it out
Except to cut my own skin
And let it bleed out.
I like to watch my imperfections
Bleed out from my skin
Letting out all the horrible feelings that I have within.
But when I'm done--that's it.
I don't feel any better
I tell myself I'll quit--
Find new ways to cope when I'm under the weather.
But I keep going back
To my lovely razor.
It has everything I lack,
It makes me feel better.
So, you see, it's not something I can control.
My razor is almost like a part of me
It's like a piece of my soul.

There, in the heat of the moment—your lips on my shoulder, your hands feeling my arms up and down, your body pressed against mine from behind—you ask me a question which I find impossible to answer.
“Do you love me?”
I stiffen, caught by surprise. I slowly turn around to face you. I take in your mussed hair, gray eyes darkened with desire, full pink lips which you are biting, anticipating my answer.
I wrap my arms around your waist and bury my face in the crook of your neck, kissing you there.
“Did you hear me? I asked if you love me.”
“Mm.” I reply, hoping that that vague answer will be enough for you to let this subject drop.
You pull away from me and force me to look at you. My heart begins to beat faster and my palms get clammy; I’m nervous.
“I’m sorry.” I tell you, looking down.
Your grip on my arms loosens and your hands fall to your sides; I can tell you’re disappointed. And I stand there, listening to your footsteps as you walk out of my house and quite possibly my life.
A few salty tears roll down my cheeks as I try to tell myself that I don’t care. I lay in bed on my back and think about the first time I allowed myself to love somebody.
“Guess what?” I plop down into Jordan’s lap, smiling.
“What?” he asks, curious.
“I love you.”
He smiles, but it seems too forced. Something’s wrong here.
I frown. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Jordan sighs heavily and looks up at me. “I thought this would be easy, but it’s not. Not when you’re sitting here staring at me with those wide, innocent brown eyes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have to go…away.”
“Where are you going?” I pout.
“Away from here.” He looks at me with a blank look on his face.
That’s when it hits me. I stand up from his lap. “You’re leaving me?”
“I’m sorry. This isn't how I wanted it to end.”
I don’t think I ever cried more than I did that entire week. I gave him my all—my heart, my soul, my desires, my fears…my love. And what did I get in return? A shattered heart and new-found wariness of giving my affections to anyone else.
He broke me, and I've just pushed away the only man that I hoped could restore me. Anybody else but you would only be able to crudely glue me back together until I eventually fell apart again, but you…you could make me like new. You could fix me.

I pull on a flimsy jacket before leaving the house and closing the door behind me. I begin to run to your house because I just can’t get there fast enough. I’m thinking of how I messed up last night and what I can do to fix it. I just have to tell you the truth—that will solve it. I’ll tell you.
I make it to your old one story pale yellow house out of breath. I assemble my thoughts as I walk up to the front door.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I wrap my arms around myself to keep from shivering uncontrollably. Whether it’s from the cold or from how nervous I am, I don’t know.
When you open the door, you look surprised to see me. You’re in nothing but your boxers and you look tired.
You don’t bother with the useless greetings and you waste no time getting to the point. “Why are you here?”
I take in a deep breath. The truth, I remind myself.
“The thing is, I couldn't just leave things the way they were last night.”
You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the door frame. “And why not? You made it pretty clear where you stand in this relationship.”
“I was awake, thinking, after you left and I thought about you and just everything about you. You give me butterflies every time I look at you. I never want our conversations to end because I just love to hear the sound of your voice and what you have to say; you could drone on about cardboard boxes and I wouldn't care. When I’m with you, no one else exists in my world. You’re the sun in my universe—everything about me revolves around you. That’s love, isn't it? I love you.”
You don’t say anything for what feels like forever. I frown as I wait for you to respond. Say something…anything to let me know that you understand half of the word ***** that just came out of my mouth.
Finally, you sigh. “You really walked all the way over here to tell me that?”
My heart sinks into my stomach. I nod. “Yes.”
That’s when I notice the smile slowly spreading across your lips. “You’re something else. You really are.” Standing up straight, you reach out and pull me into your arms. You’re warm. “Can you say it again?” you whisper into my hair.
I know I can say it without the fear of getting my heart broken looming over me. I can say it and it won’t be a lie. “I love you.”

Feeling really depressed
I'm running out of breath
I'm always second best
And it's getting to my head.
I always say I'd rather be dead
And I've never said something that I never meant

I'm the one who gets abandoned when something better comes along
People use me for entertainment, and no, I don't think that's wrong
That's all I am, something to use
This poem has me in my feelings, making me blue
Crying, because who am I to you?
Just one of those many toys from which you get to pick and choose?
I'm a fool,

Thinking you actually care
Telling me you love me? Don't you dare.
I've been hurt badly enough not to believe that ****
It's like my heart's a puzzle, and there are pieces amiss

It's like my heart is spilling on these pages as I write this poem,
It's been quite a while since I've truly felt "at home".
I feel like a stranger in a foreign land
I say I can save myself, but I don't really think I can

I remember being about seven or eight years old. I remember my parents asking my sister where the scars on her forearms had come from. She had told them that she had seen a cat as she was walking home and that when she had tried to pick it up, it scratched her. They believed her; I believed her.

I remember it being a month or two after that. A counselor from her school had come over for an urgent meeting with my parents. I was young, but as I stood in the kitchen, I could piece together the point of all that was being said: my sister had been trying to cut herself in class using a pencil.

It didn't affect me then, but now I cry when I think about it because now here I am inflicting pain upon myself with any sharp thing I can find, anywhere I can be discreet, and blaming it on the pretty "cat" I saw. It didn't occur to me then that I would take her place once she got tired of playing that game. History does repeat itself; I just wish it had chosen someone else.

Been writing depressing poems all day
Just like Rihanna, I want you to stay
Stay with me in Neverland
Let's sing songs and hold hands
We'll be together forever
'Cause we'll be young forever, too
You're an amazing kind of guy
That makes it easy for me to say I love you
And I mean it
Your embrace feels like home

I take selfies from the chest up, positioning the camera in such a way that my fat arms don't look so fat.
Full body pictures? Are you stupid?
I've got enough meat on my bones to feed the hungry children of a third world country but
At least I have a "great personality"
As if personality is the first thing that people see when they see me. I know what they see
Lack of self control, heaping mounds of disgusting fat
My long sleeves serve two purposes
1. To hide the hurt that I need to release from my body through my wrists
2. To hide the stretch marks on my fat arms.
I'm sorry. I just don't understand how you can tell me to love myself when I know that you, yourself, can't find a single thing about this bloated anatomy to love
I am anxious about eating in public because I already look like I've had dinner for two with no room left for desert
I hug myself to cover my stomach when I sit, because that's when I can't really **** it in.
I'm fat.
So I don’t blame anyone for not seeing that I limit myself to one meal a day and that when I'm really feeling adventurous, I'll eat two and throw up the extra
My first and last real crush laughed in my face when I decided to say "*******, social anxiety!" and tell him that I liked him.
"Who knew fat people could feel anything but hungry?"
I wonder if he—or anyone, for that matter—cares that I can't look at myself in a mirror without criticizing every flaw
That I can't look at myself without crying
That I can't look at myself and name one physical thing I love about me because I don’t find that the phrase I am beautiful should ever be uttered by my lips unless the word not is in the middle.
I am not beautiful. **I am fat.

He left because I was a pretentious *****
I couldn't leave him be without mentioning college
And now he's gone and my life is drab
I know it's my fault that he's never coming back.
I apologized a thousand times, but he didn't care
I don't know why I am the way I am. It just isn't fair!
I tried my hardest not to **** it up this time,
But I guess it was meant to end.
I feel like I wasted all that time
Just to lose another friend

It’s apparent that I loved him
And yet you ****** him.
It makes my head spin
How often you speak of him.
You knew I couldn't get over him,
You knew how much he meant to me
And yet you went and ****** him,
And involved him in your little scheme.
I love you and all, but I won’t lie,
What you did agitated me a little on the inside.
But hey, who am I to tell you who you can and can’t do?
I’ll get over it
Because it’s not me he wants, it’s obviously you.

I will become an impassive wall
And I won't care to answer when called

You'll see me again someday,
But that's not a promise I'm willing to make

I'm going to be gone for a while now, okay?
Oh, don't look like that! I'm just going M.I.A.
I'll only be gone until everyone forgets my name,
And when I come back, I hope things won't be the same

High school is full of idiots who play frivolous games,
Who don't understand a word that I say
It may sound pretentious, but I'm better than they are in many ways
And my sharp mind will still be here after theirs has long since frayed.

I give you my heart of glass, shattered
Would you take this heart that's bruised and battered?
I know you've got the tools to fix it
And for your love, I'm desperate
I need you like the oxygen we breathe,
Produce similar effects when you're taken away from me—choking on sadness, the lack of you leaves me unable to breathe
Maybe I'm too needy, but really, can you blame me?
It was in my worst moment that you said you would take me
You wanted me when no one else did
Loved me, replaced the things in me that were amiss
You gave me happiness, fixed my trust
Is it even possible to love you this much?
I'm so sorry for the times I doubt you, but you have to understand
It's rare in this life that I'm given the upper hand
So it's not your ability I'm doubting, trust me, it's me
I **** things up as you've clearly seen

I love you I love you I love you oh my God I love you
Those three words just aren't enough to express what I hold for you in my heart
Regardless, please accept them. They're all I have and they can express even an inkling of what I feel for you.

I want to wake up with you by my side every morning for the rest of my life,
Just being near you will suffice
Drawing circles on your skin while you lay still sleeping
And you looking at me with a lazy grin on your face when you wake up and see me—as if I'm the most beautiful thing
I want you so much and waiting to have you is torture
But I will wait until the day I can finally wrap my arms around you and kiss you hello

I can't sleep when you're mad at me,
I feel like a bad girlfriend
Why didn't I try to fix it immediately after it happened?

I guess I should say sorry, it's always my fault,
Isn't it?
But I hate being the one to start apologizing
Why am I always ruining ****?
I know you'll tell me, after we make up, that I didn't ruin us
That we're still us
I know that. But I still ruined something


I'm sorry I'm insecure and I'm still nervous around you
I'm sorry I feel everything too deeply and get hurt by the smallest things you say or do
I'm sorry I'm sensitive. I'm sorry I got mad at you
I'm sorry for my one word answers, that was the wrong thing to do

I'm sorry I didn't immediately tell you I'm sorry
I'm sorry for writing this poem instead of checking if you're still awake so that I can tell you that
I'm sorry

How does one's life get so bad that they resent every morning they wake up, cry each and every night and regret every breath they take? I just don't get it. How--why--does this almighty God character let people spiral down so deep in their miserable existences that they want to **** themselves? Why does He let them go through with it if they're going to hell because of it? Isn't He compassionate toward us humans? Doesn't He want us to have eternal life or whatever?

If He knew that so many people would suffer so badly, why didn't he just **** everyone and start over? I'm sure we wouldn't mind an easy life in the Garden of Eden.

I wasn't really going to speak about God, it's just where my thought process took me.

Anyway, really, how does someone get to that point? To the point of jumping off that building, of cutting the artery, of swallowing that myriad of pills they've been saving up, of holding the gun to their heads before pulling the trigger? How does it happen?

I don't know, but I feel like I'm awfully close and I don't like it. If I knew how people got to that point, I could try to avoid it. Alas, I do not. That's what *****: a lot of people don't. And that's why so many people get there without ever realizing where they're headed.

Kiss me
Keep it short and sweet
Because I don't want to miss it too much
After you leave
Hug me
Keep it simple, but keep me warm
Because that's the feeling I'll remember
After you've walked out the door
Touch me
Touch my cheeks, run your hand through my hair
So I can remember what it was like to have your hands there
Tell me you love me
Just three simple words;
Say them softly
But make sure that I heard

It can hurt
Or it can work out
You're either full of affection
Or full of doubt
You can be content
Or it can make you stress
You can be the perfect couple
Or you can be a mess
It can make you say "I love you"
On the best of days
Or it can make you scream "*******"
As you both part ways
It can make you the optimist
As you watch it unfurl
Or it can make you a pessimist
In this heartbreak world

Lies told
Only to
Veil secrets until the
E**nd of it all

He says that
I make her smile like he's never seen
I told him that
I can't let her or myself get too attached to this budding friendship
Because, eventually,
*Everybody leaves

Please be mine
Because something as vast as the sky
Could not hold my love for you

Please say you care
Because you know that in rough times, I'll be there
And I will comfort you

Please don't make me cry
I'm not sure why,
But I still value your words

Please don't break my heart
Once before, you ripped it apart
And it still hurts

When I'm screaming your name over and over, artfully disguise my screams of pleasure as careful intonations of my love for you.

When you look at me, I don't mind if you picture the rest of our lives together. Just promise me that you'll make it detailed and fill our future with promises you can keep.

When we talk to each other, your words touch my heart the way the sun rises, bathing the sky in beauty.

I fell in love with you and I don't want you to break my heart, I want you to have it. It's yours now. I am yours now.

Everyone's searching for something they can't find; wanting something they can't have. We're all stuck there, wondering what to do. Wondering if we'll ever find what we're looking for or get what we want. And then there are the times we realize that the answer is no and we stop searching, stop wanting, and come to grips with the fact that life is just not fair. It's a fault in human beings, thinking that everything has to go their way and that life has to be fair.

The scars on my arms have almost completely faded away. Is it strange that I feel a sense of loss? They were my company, my best friends. I could sit there and stare at them for hours, fascinated with how ****** up I'd become. But now they're leaving and I can either bring them back or find some new "friend" that will occupy my time and my mind. I'm not sure if I'm ready to let them go.

There's a post I saw on Tumblr that says "I'm sorry I gave you everything I had without making sure you wanted it." It reminds me of all the ******* in my past. It reminds me of you.

I'm not meant to fall in love or be loved. It seems I'm just destined for shallow infatuations and brief lust affairs. I'm wary of "forever"s because forever has always been measured in days, weeks, or months when it comes to me.

The worst part is that I can't blame anyone for leaving. No one in their right minds would want to deal with me.

I’m ****** and insecure
But underneath this frigid heart lies emotion
I don’t mean to be cold and distant
But my compassion seems to be frozen

I just want to know that I’m enough
That someone will take me as I am
I can’t be alone forever
Though I lie and say I can

I need someone to love who I am
And who I can be
I keep searching for that
But I keep coming back empty

The urge is back
And it's here to stay.
I try to make it stop,
But it won't go away.
I need the satisfaction
Of ruining my own skin
To help relieve some of the pain
That I feel within.
I know it's wrong--
Everyone says so.
But it's so hard to stop,
So hard to let it go.
It's like a battle that's raging inside of me.
I need help--no, I need the release.
Sometimes I just wish I could stop being me.