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Kendra Hall Nov 2012
I lied,
That butterfly didn't fly away.
It died,
Because I couldn't keep that promise.

I'm sorry,
It hurts.
I can't keep pretending,
I am not okay.

It's getting harder,
To fake a smile.
I am not happy,
Not at home at least.

So butterfly,
You didn't fly away.
But a new one is there,
In hopes to live.
Kendra Hall Nov 2012
Failure*,
Messed up in the head,
Another statistic.
I slit my skin because of you,
But it didn't make you happy.
I tried my hardest,
But all you saw was a failure.
I tried to please you,
And you'd play the blame game.
I can't tell you,
How many times I've cried.
All you'll do,
All you'll do is blame her.
She did nothing,
She didn't make me go insane.

She saw my downfall.
She saw me go into that pit.
I am throwing in my towel,
I am giving up.
I am done.
Kendra Hall Nov 2012
Trash bag suits,
****** innuendos galore.
She’s a potato!
He’s a pterodactyl!
Well, she just transformed,
She’s now a sock.
Bro *******,
Analyzing bread.
She can’t comprehend.

Snapping,
Shoddy renditions of West Side Story.

Bashing,
On my observational skills.

This is normal,
It is routine.
No drugs,
No mental asylums,
Just my lunch table.
Kendra Hall Nov 2012
You used to be joyful,
So carefree,
You used to eat.
You let her get to you,
You used to go out,
Now you only go to the gym.
You got ****** into it.
She controls you,
Telling you not to eat.
You’re too fat;
Not good enough,
Your thighs jiggle.
Rejecting food, purging,
Counting your calories.
You’re wasting away.

Your eyes are sad,
No life left in them.
As you weigh yourself,
All you do is get angry.
You took her away,
You made me lose my best friend.
Kendra Hall Nov 2012
Us
They're just words,
Something someone says,
But they hurt.

Why do they hurt?
They hit us deep,
They make us feel worthless.
They make us cut,
They make us ****,
They make us,
Us.

So they're just words?
Or are they more?
Kendra Hall Nov 2012
They smell of must,
Burnt paper.
Something charred,
The burning end of a cigarette.

A blackened snow,
They crumble to the touch.
Fluttering down,
Gently falling, a pile.

Some light,
Some dark.
Some miniscule,
Some huge.

Different meanings;
Memories,
Bad habits,
Even secrets.

Some represent the dead,
They speak stories.
They make the deceased,
Come alive.
Kendra Hall Nov 2012
I am pounding on the walls,
Clawing at my skin.
Make it stop,
Oh god, please.
I can't take it,
It's tearing me apart.

It's silent,
They're in my head.
Telling me what to think,
What to do.
Not myself.
I've ripped apart my flesh,
To please them.
Oh god,
It's happening again.
Help me,
Please.

— The End —