every night
I am scared to close my eyes

for the fear
that I may never wake up again
is so overwhelming.

he approached me as the sky streaked pink
limping with tears streaming down his gaunt cheeks
he whispered to me under heavy breaths and groans
"someone cracked my ribs while I was asleep.
I woke up this morning only to find them broken
and marked with a delicate design of pain.
I shriveled and gasped and could not breathe
and I finally understand what you mean
when you speak of your depression."

It makes me sick
Seeing young girls
Showing their friends
Shallow cuts littering their skin.

It makes me want to scream
Hearing them talking
Seeming as though
They are trying to outdo the others.

Why cant they see?
See just how seriously
Dangerous this game
They are playing truly is?

They must know
Surly they must
How terribly addicting
Such a release can be.

I remember that moment
The first time
You hold that sharp razor
Nervously floating over your skin.

That first shock
Knowing you have done
Exactly what you swore
You would never do.

First I had an overwhelming high
It was as if my heart
was slamming excitedly
Against my tender eardrums.

I was immediately caught
Stuck in a trap
I couldn't free myself from
I was so lost.

Years passed, people left
My body changed
I was older and so was everyone else
My addiction became stronger.

The blade became knives
Knives became safety pins
Those became broken glass
Eventually I didnt care what was cutting my skin.

So to all those girls
Who use self harm as a way
To get attention you need or crave
This is not a game to be played.

1.
Hope was a girl with soft brown tresses
that swung around her shoulders as she laughed.
Hope was a girl with light hazel eyes
that shone like stars when she smiled.
Hope was a girl who always told me she was my bestest friend.

2.
but lately Hope's hair has been heavy with grease
her eyes have been dull with purple bruises underneath
and her voice is barely heard unless she says three little words.

3.
last night I shot Hope in the face
17 times, to be precise
she would not be mad
if her face was intact
i just could not take her
saying those three stupid words.

4.
"I've given up."

If my blood could illustrate,
A picture to the world,
It will tell you the exact state,
How my heart pumps its hurt.

Each ventricle pumps emotions,
Pain, anger, hope,
Up to my brain,
And down to my toes.

Slithering through each artery and vein,
Blood carves my hearts pain,
In my head,
In my head.

Working through each capillary,
It forges anger and rage,
In my bones,
My aching bones.

After its done its work,
It fights back through each valve,
And pours back into the atriums,
Devoid of fury and pain.

It was used up,
Just like my tears,
My wasted energy for nothing,
It brought me no good.
Just more hurt.

And just slowly,
As the pain and anger dissipates from my system,
And fresh blood is packaged and sent,
From my bone marrows,
It brings along a slimmer of hope,
That this new cycle of blood would carry no more pain.

When the skies rip open
the tears start pouring
the world not knowing
what is wrong

When your heart starts breaking
your whole body aching
that's how you know
she's really gone

I can read your fears
I can hear your cries
you're down on your knees
begging to know why

Why she'd have to go
why'd he have to die
what was the reason
for ending their lives

Is this all real
or just an illusion
trapped inside my
Ever twisting mind

When the skies tear open
the tears start pouring
the whole world not knowing
what's going wrong

When your heart keeps breaking
your whole body aching
that's how you know
he's really gone

I know that you're afraid
you will forget
the color of her eyes
the laughter falling from his lips

I can hear you crying
when you think no ones around
I can see you drowning
when your standing in a crowd

When the skies burst open
the tears always pouring
the world not knowing
all that is wrong

When your hearts left hallow
your hope so shallow
that's how you know
they're really gone


-ARI