you never know how much
you truly suffer

until you’ve caused your
own sufferings

I used to be strong
but I'm not anymore.
I need to find land
but its harder to search for
I want to feel safe
but I'm stuck bleeding on the floor.

old comforts are my safe house
they always helped when I was alone.
I can feel myself dragging through the motions
slowly crippling myself and turning to stone.
constantly checking my notifications to see if you're there,
only to be reminded that I'm on my own.

moments in time spent with you,
stuck in my phone like constant reminders.

i'm not who i was then.
i never will be.

the quick decision
that leaves lives filled with grief.

the quick ending
of a life that should have lasted longer.

suicide is not an option
but to those of us
it's the only answer.

each note holding a different emotion,
carried across time.
held out until the very last second,
then the silence steps in.

paint me your beautiful masterpiece,
fill me with your wonderous colors;
covering every inch until i'm complete.
no part left untouched,
every side a different view.
abstract lines and colorful hues.
i want to do it with you.

love is a work of art.

being a statistic doesn't sound like such a bad thing anymore.
it's always been about numbers;
your weight,
your age,
your height,
your grades.
we're all numbers.
always compared to unrealistic standards.
always held to unrealistic expectations.
maybe being a number isn't so bad;
maybe then i'll be happy,
partying it up with peep and cobain.
maybe, just maybe, i'll be enough.

i'm sorry.