I want you to be happy.
You deserve the best.

"You’re the best."

Well, maybe I am.
Totally.
But I can’t love you best.
That’s what I’ve been trying to say.

I can’t be there for you
As much
Even if I care for you
As much
Because I don’t want you
Like that
And I don’t see us
As anything else
But
Friends.

You deserve the best
Kind of lovin’
And between you and me,
That’s not happenin’

I lie here soaked in my own confusion

My mind seems at dismay searching for its conclusion

I wonder why decisions I've made have my life in disarray

As I search for myself those memories replay

The seeds I've planted I hope one day will grow bright

Although now I remember, these seeds were bought in spite

-Joseph B Schneider

“I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can’t go through another of those terrible times. And I shan’t recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can’t concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don’t think two people could have been happier ’til this terrible disease came. I can’t fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can’t even write this properly. I can’t read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can’t go on spoiling your life any longer. I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been. V.”
- Virginia Woolfe

We are who we are, because of what they are.
The need to be perfect. The need to be thin, skinny, beautiful and popular. The need to be in control. Self-destruction our only friend. Anorexia, bulimia, and ednos, our sicknesses. Self harm - the only way we know how to control our pain. Suicide... The the only way we see as a means to escape. ****, molestation and abuse filled our sick childhoods and now we all pay the price for it. We pay with the blood from our veins, the ***** from our stomach's, the tears from our eyes... We pay for their crimes until we are empty and can not give any more.
We are what we are, because of what they are. And we scream out for help. We cry for forgiveness. We do anything we can to beg for mercy and yet, no one answers. So we cut, and we starve, and we purge until we have withered away to nothing but scarred up bones. Just empty shells of the kids we used to be... And still they don't notice. So we try to **** the pain inside... Over dose. Hanging. Gunshot. Slit wrists.
And then... they notice... But for us, it's already too late. They made us who we are. Whether or not we succeeded, we are already dead inside.

Dear mother, father, brothers, and friends,
What is happiness, but a trend?
I never found it, but I did crave it.

I spent day and night crying over a lost love,
A lost chance, a forgotten friend, a speck of dust.
Everywhere I looked, I saw the beauty I couldn't find in me.
And it pained me so. It pained me quite so.

A wonderful world ruined by a broken soul
Is not such a wonderful world, is it?
I could not stand ruining other people's happiness,
When I knew I would never find it.

Once, a friend told me that just like love,
Happiness finds you.
But I guess the line was long enough already,
And all the operators were occupied.

I shall join all the forgotten souls,
All the dead ones somebody used to love or hate.
In happiness, in love, in bliss, in joy, in death.
Goodnight, and joy be with you all.