Rusty knives and razor blades
Prescription pills and *****
Head banging and punches
And self inflicted trauma

**** hits and tall buildings
Open windows and tears
Cold showers and beds
And gone, forgotten years

Choke holds and slaps
Suffocation and crying
Pain and suffering
And constant constant lying

Leather chairs and doctors
Empty pill bottles and warnings
Stitches and bandages
And lonely, cold mornings

Emergency rooms and ambulances
Cold ground and screams
Stuff me in a hospital
As I tear apart my own seams

Sadness is 2 am
Sadness is self doubt
Is self pity
Sadness is overbearing
And haunting
Sadness is crying out of nowhere
Sadness is the floor at night
Convulsing uncontrollably from overdose
Banging your head against the wall
Sadness is infinite and finite
Sadness is healthy
And deadly

Anger is "***** him"
Anger is yelling at yourself
With all the windows up
Anger is digging your nail into your hand
In a desperate attempt to feel pain
To feel pain over the anger
Anger is forgetting your meds
And screaming at your sister
Anger is frustration
Is disappointment
Is giving up
All wrapped into a nice little package,
Conveniently engulfed in flames

her hair was blonde and wavy
she would wear it down
and run her hands through it,
like clockwork

her smile was bright
it came just as often as her laugh,
also luminous
like a starry sky

her skin was soft,
her eyes blue,
her cheeks full,
and her lips pink

she graced a room with her presence,
her enthusiasm,
her wit,
and her smile

she stood up for her beliefs
and protected her friends
she was a fantastic gift giver
and an excitable partner

she gave often,
took rarely,
lifted up those around her,
and never stopped loving

all the while,
she was fighting a losing battle;
one with herself,
in the comfort of her own head

she bore the battle scars
on her legs, wrists, and hips
she hid them with her smile
and that ever so frequent laugh

she could not explain
why she, a girl with such promise,
felt like rotting wood
and cracked pavement

she could not,
and would not,
come to terms
with her withering state

no longer believing in herself,
she succumbed,
broken and fearful,
and left her body

"Nothingness" is usually represented by the color black
Yet the color white is pure and all-telling
"Nothingness" is white hot and unforgiving
Why is heaven always white?
Why is it that I am comforted by a pitch black room, not a cloud filled sky?
Why is it that the complete absence of color and light gives me a sense of calm?
A white sheet will stain
But darkness reveals no secrets

Fearless and driven
Not in the heroic way
Or in the way that builds character
But in the way that digs graves
Fearless and driven to bring about my own demise
Not void of guilt or shame
Fearless and driven in ignoring those emotions

quiet screams float through my rotting windpipe
I yell out for mercy or release
but my pleas are silent and help lost
how do you break the news?
that you are far beyond saving?
how do you cry for help, for mercy, for release
when you are biting your own tongue
and clutching your own throat