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I am insecure*                                                        ­I am lonely
                                             I am bitter
         I am angry
                                                          ­             I am hurt
                              I am overwhelmed
                                                    ­                                    I am depressed
I am out of control
                                               I am lost            I am suicidal
                                                       ­                         

             I am anxious             I am a cutter           I am ignored
I am fat              I am vindictive                  I am mentally ill
                 I am scarred                 I am in pain               I am an addict
      I am nothing       *I am ugly
I wonder what the neighbors saw,
before you drew the curtains.
Nosy neighbors, immoral actions.
Dear reader, if you or someone you know is in a troublesome spot. Pass this along. For it is sure to be a helpful read.
You there! Yes you. I know not but your face, nor your story. But I know you feel less than yourself. And that's not ok. Some its just the blues. Down in the dumps.
But someone else could be seconds away from leaving this earth. And not coming back. I don't want that. I don't know who you are, but I would sure love too. I would love to know everything about you. Anyone would. And I know I am one person. But one conversation could help, it could keep you occupied. You could drop the pills, the gun, untie the rope. Step away from the edge, Take the bag off your head. Drop the blade. It could save you, I could help, Anyone could. We are all here for a purpose. Though I can't tell you how to fix what is wrong. I can give you the spark you need, the spark to re-light the flame that is dying inside you. And out burst a giant, beautiful soul full of joy and passion, ready to fight the sadness head on, ready to kick its **** and let happiness reign over you.
I understand the sadness. I'm sad, I always am. But knowing I helped someone feel better. is the best thing ever. It's the best drug you'll ever try. The euphoria you get from helping someone. It's an amazing thing. I love every person on this earth from the bottom of my heart. I love you all, whether you do something bad or you're a nobody. You all are my friends. And I am not leaving. So get used to my constant smile.
This jots around so much. But I hope the random happiness helps someone.
Every day, my demons let me know I am still alive.
Not to motivate, but to taunt; snickering as I walk by the bathroom, I get so frustrated I scream and call for family. I am always told. "Don't make me get my *** up to see a empty room!."
Does she not understand, the demon, red as can be are standing right there.

I continue my day, get home from school, the demons decide to not follow me until I realize they were waiting. Bursting into my room they throw me on the bed, and hand me a razor, and make me go at it, I can't stop them, they make me smoke, I can't stop them.
But... I don't know if I want too, it gets to the point where it feels natural, all the pain I feel, makes me feel good.
I get so close to slipping, but then something only the insane would believe.
I am saved, by an angel of light, she herself; hurts on the inside, but she shows me the true light of life with a smile.
And I can't thank her enough.
Because the light feels.
**Nice..
This is a poem for my best friend, almost a sister to me.
She is a lovely girl, and a awesome friend, thank you Selena.
What am I to you? Am I some pawn, some marionette that you can bend and twist and break at your own command, am I some old shirt with a hole that keeps getting bigger."Oh I can fix that." Your mother proclaims but you shake your head and toss it into the trash bin without even wanting to fix it.
Tell me what am I. You use me, toy with me, break, bend, hurt, stomp on, spit at. I'm I some toy, aren't I? Left in the back yard years ago, aging, drying out,  and melting away at the heat and seasons that go by.
And all because.
I fell for **You..
I'm sorry I am short.
I'm sorry I'm not tall.
I'm sorry for every imperfection, every flaw.
I'm sorry I wear glasses.
Forgive me for not wearing fancy clothes.
Money doesn't flow in my home.
I'm sorry I am broke.
Life
See what I do?
I push through.
And I **Smile.
Smile through all the challenges put upon you.
You degrade me, push me down, and hurt me.
But yet I would take on a army for you.

You make me cry, you make my soul sting, my heart clench up.
But yet I would take a bullet for you.

You notice my scars, then tell me to smile. But all you do, it's impossible for me to smile.
I etch some more into my arm, afraid of disappointing you, the one who caused these wounds.

"Don't yell." I proclaim. I may not be able to smile. But my flesh can.
This is a story about how I had the smile cut on the top of my hand.
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