don't tell me that I'm beautiful
until you've seen the marks
etched on my skin
and the ones on the inside,
one my heart,
that I hide

don't tell me that I'm strong
until you've seen me break down,
fall apart,
time and time again,
and cry until the tears no longer come

don't tell me that I'm a wonderful person
until I shut you out completely
and push you away
because I promised myself
that you were just like the rest
and you'll get tired of me too

don't tell me that I'm lovely
until you've seen what nights are like
and the terror that sometimes possess me
seen me sob and tremble and question "why me?"
until I run out of air
and collapse

don't tell me that I'll get through this
that this is only temporary
until you've seen the inner torment
inside my mind
and the demons that refuse
to be silent

but if you have seen that other part of me
the scars, pain, insecurities, and bitterness
that I hide
the voices that whisper during the day
and scream during the night
the darkness lurking behind my smile
and you still stay by my side
and think me truly beautiful
then maybe....just maybe.... I believe you

i felt happy for a while
i finally felt okay
but why did i believe that i was getting better
when i knew that i would sink back into
my unusual self
i am bad again,
i am worse than before
and any hope that i had left
is gone.

go to sleep, and close your eyes
and dream of broken butterflies
that tore their wings against a thorn
you know the pain they have borne

silver metal, shines so bright
scarlet blood, that feels so right
dream of that blood trickling down
and wake you just before you drown

the moonlight's shining off your tears
as you bleed out your own worst fears
so tonight when you start to cry
whisper the cutters lullaby

hushabye baby, you're almost dead
you don't have a pulse and your pillow is stained red
your family hates you and your friends let you bleed

rockabye baby, broken and scarred
you didn't know life would be this hard
time to end this pain that you hid so well
and down will come baby, straight back to hell

Roses grew in the depth of her heart
daisies sprouted from her lungs
daffodils arose from inside her stomach
and lilies formed near her tongue
she spoke so sweetly
a trace of life
following her wherever she goes
but as this little girl grew up she found,
that flowers die
and weeds will grow


Quote that goes with the poem: She was a garden filled with beautiful flowers, but as she grew older the flowers died and all that was left was weeds.