She is waging an all out war.
against herself.
Wishing to be set free
from herself.
Determined to win, even if she
kills herself.
She uses this beautiful blade
on herself.
Carving her deepest insecurities to
remind herself.

She stands in front of her mirror
A pale, skinny frame
with dazed, empty eyes.
She appears to be a ghost,
something out of a horror movie.
The tears and mascara streaks on her face.
The harsh taste of bile in her breath.
The blood pouring down her wrists.

How horrible.
How hideous.
How imperfect.
But society created this monster.
By day, she is a barbie doll.
By night, an insecure mess.
And soon a young beauty
falls victim to the pressure to be perfect
that she became addicted to
but in the end could no longer bear.

The entire world screams
Get up and fight,
you coward.
But you hold your ground.
Stand by your comrades
like a soldier.
Protect your friends
like a shepherd.

You're no coward.
You're a lover,
a peacemaker in this world of war.
Love will always be
louder than any cry,
stronger than the chains that bind us.
You fight for the what you love,
but sometimes
what you love fights back,
harder.

I am no longer me.
I look in the mirror and see
the ghost of what once was,
the regret of what never will be.

I will always be wrong.
The monster you've become
rips apart the essence of me.
My seams forever undone.

But I will never forget.
How I let you in and
*what you did to me.

The worst part about falling
is not when you hit the bottom.
Not getting back up after the fall.
Not when you have to let go,
Not when you have to move on.

The worst part about falling
is knowing that you are slipping.
Knowing you are slipping, deep down
into a pit of demons and despair.
Knowing you are breaking.
Knowing you will be held hostage
by the devil inside you.

Knowing you need help,
but when you finally cry out,
no one is there to save you.
And you just have to allow yourself to fall.

Hello.
I'm your girl.
The girl who will always smile
and listen to your petty complaining
as if it were actually a crisis.
Your girl to pretend everything is okay,
to act as if I actually believe in love.
Your girl to take advantage of,
to bend and beat and break
but never ****,
because she is expected to stand up and smile
like nothing happened.
Hello.
I'm the girl who's been hiding the whole time.
The girl who's not okay.
Who's sick of being your *****.
Who cannot take it anymore
That girl who is actually going to be real.
But you don't want real.
You want a little perfect Barbie
who you can play with.
You think you need someone
who can simply smile and look pretty for you.
I guess I'm stuck being your girl.

Screaming, screaming, screaming.
She sunk further and further down under.
The deeper she got,
the more entangled in her lies she became.

Fighting, fighting, fighting.
She had been in constant combat mode.
But the struggle was only halfhearted,
the end was inevitable.

Dying, dying, dying.*
She was losing all she ever had.
Her relief grew
with the pain.

I believe in music.*
I believe that
when words fail,
music speaks.
It lives as a part of us,
giving an internal fight.
A fight to live, to be remembered
as something more
than just another drop in the sea.

Our world spins around
as a symphony,
a thousand different songs
coming together in a harmony.
Every incoherent thought
becomes a lyric.
Every tear shed
strums a chord.
Every individual
a beat.
Every voice
a song.

Nobody knows of
the countless nights I've spent
in a dull little room.
Awake in bed at night,
listening to the steady beeping
of my sick little heart.
I'm afraid to think
that it might stop too soon.

Unable to breathe,
too sick to move,
too sick to love,
too sick to live.

Then come the questions.
Everyone demanding answers,
knowledge I don't even have.
Are you okay?
I lie, only because
I don't want sympathy.
I want to be saved.

Save me
from this war,
from this hell,
from this so called life.

Go on and act like you
control me.
know me.
define me.

All you do is see your own **** version
of who you think I am.
See, you really do paint a beautiful picture.
You should be an artist, an inventor.
Creating the perfect ideal.
Living the lie of dreams becoming real.

But who is that girl?
The girl who smiles?
The girl who has no scars?
The girl who is free?

It's most certainly not me.
But this time, it's my story to write.
Let me figure out the plot.
I know more than you, give me the pen.
It's my life, even if I can't predict the end.

He picks up her broken body
And whisks her away.
Away to a world where her pain is gone.
Where she can dance all night long.

He only carries her until
she can regain strength.
He knows he has to let her go.
For this is her battle to fight.
But tonight, he is her guide.

They can forget their troubles
Together.
When the time comes
For the moon to go down,

She'd rather stay
In this world of pretend.
All she wants is just one night.
Even if she is living a lie,
She wants to be here forever.
With him.
With this world.
This world can relieve the pressure.

What I have hidden
from you for so long.
Today could be the day.
I finally open up to you,
and show you the scars.

Shocking,
To you it seems so wrong.
A pretty smile.
A few pretty bracelets.
Is all needed to hide the ugly truth.

You say you'll always be there for me.
To love me, hold me when I cry.
But where were you?
You practically watched me bleed.

She was young,
and she was naive.
She was caring,
but she was impulsive and foolish.
Her whole life,
she wanted nothing more than to prove herself.
to make something of herself.
to change the world.
to save the world.
Because she promised herself
*that she was different.

you've never known
the hell I've lived.
there is pain
beyond your wildest dreams
or perhaps it is a nightmare to you
but for me,
just one more day alive
means everything
and even though i am
screaming
crying
and dying,
at least i am still fighting.
so before you think
that i am weak
think of the pain
you simply cannot fathom

Unravel your secrets.
Open up your mind,
Watch your wrists, they pour regret.

Unravel your secrets.*
Allow yourself to unwind.
But little girl, do not fret.

I will not betray you.
For I have secrets too.

The bruises.
When his father came home late.
The scars.
When Daddy had one too many beers.
The tears.
When his mother left him alone.
The hope.
When he thought she might come back.
The fear.
When the blood wouldn't stop.
The muses.
When his pain found an outlet.
The songs.
When crying wasn't enough.
The music.
When he hit rock bottom.
The silence.**
When the hit was too hard.

People try to fix me.
Pills.
Shut out the monsters,
Make me sit still.
Why can't you just let me be?

As far as I'm concerned,
I'm not broken.
Who hasn't a few screws loose?
Decisions made, without my opinion spoken.
Without a fair trial, meeting adjourned.

Maybe it's because I chose not to believe the lies.
Maybe I'm the only one who still has faith.
Maybe that's why they say I'm just blind.

Maybe if I'm so wrong,
Maybe you should stop listening.
Maybe it's not my fault I've been captive this long.

God, he was so beautiful.
His smile would light up the sky,
His eyes sparkling like water.

Until the smile faded,
Happiness traded for worry.
The shine in his eyes became teary.

And to see him lying there,
a victim of his own demise.
His own monsters, the demons inside.

Is this what was meant to be?
What he used to have, who he was,
Traded for this,
This ******* cruel irony.

I don't hate my life,
just the person living it.

I don't like the pain,
but the sight of my own blood is bliss.

I don't want to die,
just to turn my mind off.

I don't want to cry,
so I smile for the poeple I love.

I don't like what I see in the mirror,
but the hurt reflecting in my eyes holds a sort of beauty.

I don't want to hurt myself,
and I know the only one hurting me is

*Me.

"Help me," I cry

My monster is watching.
No one hears your screams, you know. Except for me.

I beg for mercy, but he tightens his grasp.
Every part of me wants to fight back.
But with every swing I take, I'm wasting away.

How strong are you now?
He continues to taunt.
Hold on, I dare you to.
The monster knows my pain.

With one final push I open my eyes.
It's eating me alive, I can feel it.
It's destroying me from inside.
By now I'm gasping for air,
But I keep getting pulled back under.

This time, the monster laughs.
He knows I'm through.
His fist is wrapped around my body,
Ready to crush me.
My journey was made long and torturous.
For cruel entertainment.

I start to give up.
The darkness is sliding back over me.
It won't take much to shatter what I have left.
I'm already broken.
I relax, ready to welcome death and the comfort it brings.
One last breath I take, and my life becomes
A flat line.

Yes.
I will let it take over me.
Yes.
I can see it.
Yes.
There will be a light at the end.
No.
The light will not be a happy ever after.
No.
The end to my pain will not come if I continue living.
No.*
I *cannot hold on any longer.

I can't speak.
I can't see.
I can't breathe.
The end is coming closer, caving in on me.
The pressure is too much to take.
The weight is crushing me.
The darkness is slowly sliding over me, and I will let it.
There will be an end.

I don't mind,
I promise I'll be okay.
I don't mind,
I have no need for your sympathy.
I don't mind,
I really have nothing to say.
I don't mind,**
I can pretend you're not destroying me.

Ugly.
I will never be
beautiful.
I'm
useless.
It's a lie to say I am
going to make it.*
I am
Different from the other girls.
I am
not pretty.
Ugly.
I am not like them. They are
better.
My life will only get
worse.
I can't expect to get
My life in my hands.
It's time to end this, to take it.