You start small, then cut deeper over time. Once you start you won't
ever want to stop.

2. You grow a tolerance towards the pain, and after a while, it won't hurt anymore.

3. Finding sharp blades becomes a new found hobby.

4. Hiding your cuts and scars becomes an everyday task, and it only gets harder.

5. You find yourself gravitating to the need for negativity.

6. Sadness literally consumes your life, you'll be drowning in your own apathy.

7. Before you shower, you think to yourself, "just a few little cuts on my arm, no one will notice," then
next thing you know one cut becomes two, then two becomes 7, and now there's blood dripping onto the cold
tile of your bathroom floor again, and you can barely see the color of your own skin.

8. You get paranoid, thinking everyone has seen your cuts, and next thing you know, you're wearing
sweaters in the summer, never showing your skin.

9. Once the scars fade, your arm will be clean. It'll be a fresh canvas to paint your twisted idea of
beautiful art.

10. And when you're finally clean from all things bad, you'll have to face the fear of relapse, and when you finally
do start again, your disappointment causes the whole cycle to begin again, watching yourself fade back into
who you used to be; the person you never wanted to see again. So please, don't ever start hurting yourself.

I am not the person you
want me to be.
And no matter how
many times you tell me
to change, i will keep
my feet anchored to the ground,
not letting myself fall into
your mold of a perfect human being.

I am not the person you
expect me to be.
And for the last time, stop
telling me that I am not
good enough for you.

I am finally the person you
want me to be.
And the person that stares
back in the mirror, is not
who I want to be.

7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days later,
those lines i draw across
my wrists aren't drawn
with a marker anymore

228 days later, and those
7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days
don't matter anymore

Goodbye to heartless
words. The ones that
tell you you’re not good
enough; the ones that
tell you you’ll never
make it.

Goodbye to ******
people. The ones that
leave you alone in the
dark; the ones that aren’t
there for you, but you’re
there for them.

Goodbye to labels and
judgement. The ones that
discriminate and bully; the
words you fear to hear as
you walk down the halls
of the place you’re supposed
to feel comfort.

Goodbye to all your demons.
The ones that keep you up at
night; the ones that you keep
hidden.

And lastly, goodbye to you.
The one I love the most;
the one I can’t give up.

You were born with thunder rumbling from between your lips.
Your words were learned to be feared.
the promise of being trapped in the rain was too frightening for anyone to listen.

You were a flower that had begun to wilt,
covered by the shade of those towering above you,
and when they stole the last ray of light,
you learned to become your own sun.

Lightning shown in your golden-brown eyes.
Fierceness and a refusal to take any odds into consideration.
You struck hearts into beating again,
you struck minds into thinking again.

Your soul is a flood raging over hills. You are washing down every crevice of the world;
drowning and sweeping away things that will never measure to your strength.

You are a Californian wildfire.
Beautifully destructive and distinctively fearless.
You are crackling heat in valleys where thirst will never be quenched.
Don't be offended when they turn away,
some people just can't take the heat.

You have grown into a refusal to let the natural disasters inside of you sit still.
You have taken every ounce of nothingness that you felt and turned it into a brewing storm.
We will hear that thunder rolling from your lips this time.

Sonnets were written about your icy smile years before you were born.
Poets know the beauty of a powerful earthquake that could send cities crumbling,

Everyone knows the beauty of a powerful woman that can send worlds crumbling.

the black lines
i draw across my wrist
have nothing to the red blood
that washes away with my tears

the black lines
i draw across my wrist
keep me sane
because i can
rinse away the sorrow

the black lines
i draw across my wrist
can't take away
the pain of tomorrow
but can take away
the pain of today

the black lines
I draw across my wrist
can't compare to
the sharpness of
the smooth silver blade
i tore out of a
pencil sharpener

The black lines
i draw across my wrist
won't last for long
not leaving a scar
nor a sign that shows
i am not strong enough

In the 21st century,
we only care about beauty
and outer appearance,
we sometimes forget
what our lives really mean.

Tiny waists, *******
that aren’t too big, but
are big enough,
a space between
your thighs, and
a smile to ****-
this is what defines you,
If you’re not attractive,
you’re not worth it.

In the 21st century,
it doesn’t matter how you feel,
your self worth will be
flushed down the drain.

In the 21st century,
if you’re not perfect,
just walk away and
don’t
look
back.