Make me mad
Please
Make me ******
I beg you
Make me feel
Make me feel something other than
   cold
     unadulterated
        fear

Love me
Be with me
Want me
Need me

Because I need you
Whoever you are
I need you

To hate me
To hold me
To love me
To want just me

I hide everything away
"Everything is ok" is my motto, my go to phrase
******* everything is ok
Ok
I am alright
Everything is A-ok

No, really, it is
Well, maybe some things are ok
Somewhere
Maybe someone's ok
Ok?

But honestly
I'm not ok
Dishonestly I'm ok
And I'm tired of pretending to be ok
Because everything is not ok
Nothing is ok

Do you understand that?
Do you see it?
Or do you think I'm actually ok?

Who the hell do you think you are?
How dare you judge me.
You don't know me
You don't understand my story
Make me angry, I dare you
See who I am when I do not pretend to be happy
Stop telling me what to do or who to be
Do you think I'm stupid?
I'm some imbecile who doesn't understand what I am doing to myself?

I'm dying slowly
From the inside out
I am choosing to die rather than letting someone else
   make that decision
   for me
Those last minutes subtracted from my life
Those seconds I permanetely erase from my time as I inhale
   each puff of smoke into my lungs
None of that matters
Who says I will live long enough to feel the regret of those lost moments?

So who the **** do you think you are?
Don't tell me how I am killing myself
Stop telling me that this is bad, or unhealthy, or disgusting
Quit explaining to me that I am taking my own life away
I know that I am doing that

Instead
   Ask me why
   Ask me why I am doing all of this
   Then save me
   Please save me

These flashbacks are what are killing me
I'm just waiting for the day that I cut
   too deep
While my mind is elsewhere

I am terrified every night that my mind
   will go back
   to those times
Everything I know of the present disappears

All I see are
   knives                                           him dead
   cement                                         rubble
   a hand on the side of my face    blood on my hands

All I hear is
   beating music                              sirens
   cursing                                         explosions
   tearing of clothes                         silence
   laughing                                       coughing

All I feel is
   a blade ripping my skin
   a sharp pain
   suffocation                                   Nothing

Mix and match any of them
It's still so horrible
   no matter the combination

And I'm all alone in my room
Curled in a ball
Screaming with no sound coming out
With no one there to wake me up

Sometimes I wish I was never born
Rather than live with these memories
Rather than living in fear that I will become unhinged
   from these ever-present flashbacks

A broken mind
A broken heart
A broken spirit
That's all I have now
never to be pieced back together
Since so much of me is missing now

Cut deep
Trying to reach my soul
Trying to cut out the pain
   the hatred
   the disgust

Why can't I cut deep enough?
What the **** is wrong with this blade?
It won't reach far enough
   deep enough
All I see is blood
All I see is red

Cutting over scars
Creating new scars
But they won't touch the pain
All there is is a trickle of blood
   not my soul
   that has disappeared

What the hell?
Why can't I reach it?
Is it so lost, so far hidden in the dark recesses of my mind?
I want to destroy it
I want to gauge it out with the tip of my blade

I want it to die
For if it dies so does my pain
   my disgust
   my dirtiness
   the horror and pain and nightmares
   and me
If it dies so will I

Dear whoever,

I choose to walk in the deepest darkest recesses of the night. Just as the midnight hour passes. I wander campus alone, lost and confused, letting my feet take me on the same path it does every night. A path where most people would never venture. I head towards the darkest alleyways, the most deserted parking lots, the places where people can be hurt, have been hurt, and will be hurt.

I am searching for that evil that once hurt me. I want to see it again, confront it. I want it to devour the little bit it spit out the last time it descended upon me. What little it has left within me is not worthy of living. This creature of the night that prowls on those who do not notice has taken my self dignity, my beauty, my innocence. Has profited on my naivety that all is good in the world.

My mind is ****** up. I am *****, beyond *****, I am polluted. Polluted with filth and grime and bits of someone who thrives on being the powerful over the powerless. My soul is unclean and forever tainted. maybe one day this will just be a back file of my memories, but it will always be there. Haunting my days and terrifying my nights.

So on these midnight escapades, I offer myself, wholeheartedly to the beast that stole me. I offer my body, my mind, my sanity, my soul. Either I am taken away, to forever dwell in the fires of Hell, or I fight and survive and know that I can protect myself once again. I need to find out. That is why I am offering myself. I need to know my blood still runs through my body with life. Some people wish they were dead, I just wish I felt alive once more.

Most sincerely,
Me