The art of hating yourself
Is not easily achieved.
It takes motavation,
Words whispered across lunch rooms,
"Ugly, fat, stupid, freak"
It takes observation,
Hours staring at the pretty faces in the magazine,
Hours of trying hard to be something else
Hours feeling more lost then when you started.
It takes practice,
Feeling insecure as you walk down the hallway
Refusing food during the day,
doing crunches by night.
And of course it takes a certain type of person
For it to really take over the mind
A perfectionist
A person with a bad past or a uncertain future
A girl who blames herself
A girl who knows its her fault
If you are truly serious
about embarking on this journey,
This journey of unsatisfaction and secrecy,
Pushing people away and always, always
Craving,
Striving,
Searching,
Starving,
Needing,
That promise of perfection,
Take a class from the master
Or two
Or three
She's right here in town
The most dedicated and driven
The best of the best
She has cultivated
The Art of Hating herself
And she's the person I see in the mirror
Staring right back at me

well i am sitting here with the knife
desperate, and lonely, i'm gonna end my life
a cut here, a cut there
knife sharp enough to split hair

my body goes slack,
i fall on my back
it looks like an attack,
but it doesn't fade to black

i stop cutting after that attempt
cause i guess my death isn't meant
i meet her and feel wanted
but i am still haunted

from the ghost of my past
how long will this last?
the memories of that hell
the come back, and you can't tell

cause i keep my emotions hid
and bottled and boxed up, and sealed with a lid
i meet her, and its good for awhile
and then it is like being in trial

we break up, and i am alone
to my thoughts that have the same tone,
i am worthless
i am useless

so i am sitting here with this knife
ready to end my pathetic life
if not bound by a promise, blood i would lack,
but now it all fades to black

As I read,
The words on the page
Turn into bugs,  
And crawl around.
I feel my heart beat,
In my head,
While my feet
Are on the ground.
My senses get mixed up,
I feel schizophrenic,
My heartbeat increases dramatically,
And I begin to panic.
I feel the air getting thinner,
With less of it to breathe,
If my heart stops beating,
Will there be anyone to grieve?
All this pain and suffering,
Was clearly meant to be,
But what I want to know is,
Was it truly intended for me?
Shots to keep me calm,
Pills to heal my pain,
So many perscriptions,
Just to heal my brain.
I'm scared of nearly everything,
From bugs to snakes to the dark,
To who knows what could be lurking,
Across the street at the park.
I try to conquer my fears,
At least one at a time,
The one fear ill never escape from,
Is the thoughts inside my mind.

When
        All
My memories
        Of you
Are gone,
        That
Is when
        I
        Will
        Move on.

It seemed
only right
that the
day you
told me
you were
in love
with me
it poured
like our
town had
never seen
rain. When
I looked
out the big
windows
and turned
to you to
say "I wish
I was at
home" it
was like
you knew
the words
before I
said them
and you
nodded
slowly
and
bumped
your
shoulder
against
mine,
a simple
understanding,
and I was
sure I was
in love
with you,
too.