I can still remember my self happy my smile that I no longer have has disappeared over the years of you look at my pictures they've shown it also but not as much can be seen by looking at my pictures.
The answers are deeper than that just ask my wrist oh if they could talk they would only say two words the same two words over and over that my pride refuses to let me say "I HURT".
   I tried I tried I tried I TRIED.
So **** hard to stop the voices " "Worthless" "ugly" "mistake" "nothing" nothing stopped the voices I may have momentarily have gotten them to silence when I was with you to bad I tried to hard to stop the voices that night before I got to see you.
  I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm SORRY.
For all the times you've cried for the times I never gave up my hoodie because I was afraid of what people would say about my wrist I'm sorry for all the nights that I have missed laying in my bed only to sit on the edge of it crying.
  After that day you looked me in my eyes and held me and cried and told me that you believe in me I still have the same pride that same smile I still have that same love for you that you no longer need but we both are okay with it now because I'm stronger thanks to you.
I'm still that same kid that likes to have fun and smile and listen to good music so don't give up on me or shun me because you're seeing new traits in me because I AM still the same kid that you see in those pictures I JUST.
Hurt.

it's chilly tonight
the kids are sleeping
I came home late from work
you questioned the hours
I'm keeping
so I sit alone
outside, where I like to hide
you went to bed hours ago
alone in the space
where we divide
I'm going to come to you
after just one more drink
and a little pep talk to myself
I hope, I think,
you'll be asleep
and the awkward conversation
that's rotting on the beach
with each low tide
Is something we can
look forward to
tomorrow
when I've borrowed
some more pride

This can't keep going.
The tears won't stop flowing.
The self-loathing is growing.
The façade has slipped, and the real me is showing.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.