I'm living in this dark fantasy,
Where I'm surrounded my deranged demons.
Back in that room,
With my attacker...
Reliving the moment second by second,
Minute by minute,
Hour by hour.
Slowly slipping away.
Very, very, slowly,
Until I disappeared.
Back into my dark fantasy.

I could sit for hours,
Looking at the blade.
Gleaming in the ****** bedroom light,
Smiling back at me,
Begging me to use it.
My thighs itching with anticipation,
Too be torn to pieces.

She makes me feel unwanted.
A burden,
Undeserving of love and life.
She calls me ‘fat’, ‘useless’, ‘worthless’.
And those words are engraved in my mind,
Forever on repeat.

My mother makes me want to die.

I am dangerously insecure...

She leaves the house alone every night. To cry on her own in the dark. In peace. She has no friends to text because at the end of the day she can’t tell them everything. She’s out of the house getting exercise but she exercises until she can’t breath, until she can feel bone. She has bobbins all up her arms hiding cuts while she scratches her raw legs under the dinner table. The family see she is eating. Her friends at the cinema see it too. But what they don’t see, is the puke stained bathroom floor and the mouth ulcers from her own ***** forced up by only her. She starts cutting her tongue so it hurts even more too. She can’t focus on a movie because every **** second she’s wondering where she’ll cut next or how many pills she should take tonight. Or where she could find rope. The baby she lost last year holds memories. A time she could have been happy. The empty space where the baby should be Yet the void inside her is still so shallow. Her boundaries were broken growing up when her cousins fingers slipped inside. She was hurt again when she met the devil himself and fell in love only to find out he wanted her dead and once again bet her black and blue and left her open for the world to see. Only to find out he himself went to hell before she could.

And if only people knew this they might leave her alone.

I just lay down.
And it happened again,
For the first time in months.

Attempting to release the pain
Drop by drop.
Blood, tears and screams.

Yet I still don’t feel alive.

You never let me be me.
You see I'm healing,
Yet you need to drag me down.
You see me smiling,
Yet you need to make me cry.
You see me trying,
Yet you still make me feel like a failure.
Your meant to love me,
Not hate me Mom.

That I wish
I dug deeper.
To expose the veins and arteries,
That to this day keep me alive.

That I wish
My hands could hold more pills.

That I wish
I wasn’t born.

I don’t want to be here.
I hate it.

Why can’t i be normal

I leave the room,
Yet my body stays put.
My feet grounded,
While my mind flies away.

And it was then I realized.
That I’m not living.
I’m just walking around in a dead outer shell,
And a broken inner layer.

Let me enjoy the silence.
The silence of screaming,
Hitting,
Crying,
Cutting,
The silence of starvation.
If I stay silent,
No one will come for me.
No one will know my secrets.

The slightest wind could blow all my petals away,
Leaving
Me
With

Nothing..

You made me feel needed,
When nothing else did.
I was simply falling through life,
But you gave me a reason to walk.
Even if I was walking on glass.

I felt your finger escape my hand.
Your love, leaking from my heart.
I’m trying to hard to patch it up before it empties.
Your eyes facing the ground,
While mine begin to cry.
I drop to my knees.
Bitter with pain.
Please don’t leave me.

And it is today I realized,
I’m not going to recover.

The pain starts to dissipate as numbness floods her body,
She closes her eyes,
Unclenches her fists,
And lets out a final sigh.
In an hour or two someone will probably find her,
But she won't hear the worry in their voice
Or see the concern in their eyes when they do...
...because she's gone.

And I’m back to the bad place.
My hollow corpse,
Floating aimlessly.
Through what some people call,
Life.

Her body a canvas,
Of her own artwork.
Scars and scribbles,
Cover every inch,
Of this masterpiece.

But he took the tools,
And ripped her in half.
And streaked her with thick,
Heavy, paint.

Leaving her ruined.

The memories hurt a million times more,
Than the trauma itself.

I have cried for help silently.
Wishing I could speak.
But my mouth remained barren.
My eyes spoke the words my lips couldn’t form,
And the proof of this struggle is written in my body.
My disgusting,
Useless,
Body.
Still standing alone,
In a world full of oblivious people.

My mother treats me as if I am 2 different people.
My mental health,
And the child.
I do not exist in her mind.
I am broken,
Useless.
I am not me.
I’m not allowed to be me.
“You will be the happy girl you used to be.”
This is me Mom. This is it. My mental health is part of me. There is no going back.

The say ‘roll with the punches’.
But I am beaten black and blue.

I’m hurting.
I’m hurting so **** much.
I wake up and think, “why didn’t I die in my sleep”.
God, just let me die.
Please just let me die.

Everything I do,
Is harm,
***, Drugs,
Everything else,
Just to numb the pain.
That’s screaming instead.

I know this isint a poem but I have no one or no where to put my feelings.

Hiding my true self under my warm, broken flesh,
Looking in a mirror and seeing a figure looking back.
Nobody knows me.

Fake smiles,
Fake laughs,
Being okay so no questions are asked.
Yet all I want to do is release this pain,
Eating me from the inside, out.

I felt okay,
I felt.... happy...
I felt alive.

This Moment
I feel sick,
Depressed,
Dead.
I feel sad.

It's back again.

You stood on the track.
Consciously waiting,
For 8.30pm.
You knew exactly what was going to happen,
Yet you still stood.
Sweat dropped off your forehead,
Onto your tanned nose.
But you let go.
You had enough.
And 8.31pm came,
Now you are gone.

My legs,
Are my canvas.
My body,
An object.
Like a hotel.
People stay,
Then leave.
To return home.
I will never be home.

How can you sleep in someone’s else’s bed?
Knowing there were endless nights of crying.
Days of sleep and loneliness,
Harming and hurt.

And nights of endless passion,
Loving and happiness.

The wine stains, the blood stains,
Sealed onto the mattress perfectly shaped,
To fit their body.

And there you are,
Abusing the safe haven they have created.

How many more nights,
Can I do without sleep.
How many more meals,
Do I have to skip.
How many more scars,
Do I have to create,
To fill the emptiness?
The answer is infinite.

Your infectious laugh ran through me like wildfire,
Your  big green eyes drew me in deeper, into your trap.
Those gorgeous freckles scattered across your nose,
Were just a coax.
Your perfect little ears designed with diamonds,
And that tattoo on your waist.
All of which made me fall in love with you.
And to this day I don't know how I am alive,
Since you are gone.

You stole my heart the day we met.
Without me even noticing the hole you left behind.
I still look at the scar yet all I can do is smile.
Thinking about your touch,
Your tired head on my pillow lying beside me,
Just giggling and having fun.
I remember looking at you and realising,
He's the one.

I want to run.
I need to get away.
It won’t leave me alone,
It’s always there.
Shouting at me,
Chasing me.

And when it catches me,
It tears away at the wall I built.
The wall that took so much courage,
Love,
Nurturing,
And positivity.

Gone in seconds.

'Coward', I hold my blade.
'*****', The tears fall.
'Useless', The blade moves.
'Unwanted', The blood drips.
'**** Yourself', The cuts deepen.
Oxygen stops reaching my lungs.
Think Before You Speak.

Heaven cast me aside,
While hell welcomed me with open arms.

I feel as though I'm nothing,
You make me feel like nothing.
I feel empty.
Broken
And scarred.
I feel like there's no turning back.
Just continual darkness forever,
And ever,
And ever.

I crave the breeze brushing against my skin,
The rain gently dripping on my hair.
To run through the woods, full of life and nature.
Meet new people, and discover this fascinating Earth.
But instead you keep me trapped,
Claustrophobic in my room.
Never going beyond these walls,
Of pain, remorse and this pessimistic existence.
Which you call 'living'.

I said i was busy.
But not in the way you think.
I was busy focusing on my breathing.
I busy trying to keep the tears at bay.
I was busy gliding the blade back and forth.
I was busy bleeding.
I was busy doing what I do best.
I was busy hurting.