I'm trying so hard.

I'm pulling for my words.

I'm stammering.
           I'm stuttering.

It is a sudden rush of worries.

My mind is swimming in thoughts I can't sort.

I'm getting clammy,
            People are staring.

Everyone is going to see the real me.

My heart is quickening.

I'm drowning,
             but everyone else is breathing.

Someone, help me.

I should have known the moment you said you loved me.
I should have known the minute you came and betrayed me.
I thought I knew you - that proved wrong.
I thought I could love you - that proved false.
I thought our passion, was an ignited flame.

But no... You
Used me,
Betrayed me,
Scared me,
Broke me.

But worst of all, you left me with shattered pieces.

I sit in my room, staring at the wall.

Alone I sit and watch my blank wall.

Alone in the night - alone in the day

My best friend has slowly wandered away.

She says she is still there, but no conversation can we hold.

Alone..

Quarter after ten; a storms a brewing, but not out side. A storm that festers in my head.

I wait for my reply, but still no one is there.

I feel ignored, I feel no hope.

I text a friend whom talks of food, but still it does not fill the emptiness inside.

I try to write a poem, but no words come to mind.

Alone.. still no reply, so I sit and wait. Hoping that someday a friend may come by.

You do not see the
            B                      r
                                                     O          K
                               E                        N
                                                                ­    E               s                     S
She has succumbed to.

You do not see how    
                   A    b
                               a   n
                                         d o
                                                  n e d
she has become.

You barely know her yet you can tell that the smile she plasters on is

                     F          A
                                                K   ­         E


Her life has slowly become a sea of

D                     I
            S                        a                S         ­       
                              t                 e                    R           S

I'm begging you to break my chains.
I'm asking you to carry my pain.
I'm sitting at your mercy seat.
I'm crying at your holy feet.
I cannot dance, and I cannot sing.
I know you have a plan for me.
I have heard that you have paid my fee.
I am trying to set my sight on thee.
I'm begging for eternal grace.
I need your help to run this race.

The tears they come, flowing down my cheek.
My friends have left, their voice I cease to seek.
I cannot dance, classes I must cease.
Ends draw near, the end I fear to see.

The show it proceeds, but in fear I proceed -
scared of what the end will bring for me.
Will it bring more tears, more loss of friends to haunt my sleep?
Curtain call must sing along.
Alone I tread, always in dread.
My hope, forever looses its light.

I know I cannot run for long.
I know truth will sing its song.
I cannot bear the weight of shame.
Scared that judgment will forever reign.

There is this wound,
                  its on my left arm.
It kind of resembles the one on my hip,
                  but this one was longer and more jagged.
It'll heal like the one on my hip,
                   but it's cousin will appear very near.
It oozed blood at first,
                   but it stopped bleeding after a few minutes.
Oh, look,
                    now there is another right next to it.
And another, and another,
                    and another, and another.
Its like medication,
                    for the pain that hurts the most.
The pain of my heart is to great,
                     the knife keeps my wounds coming and the pain at bay.

The sun seems to have finally set, and the darkness has come to settle a debt.
A piece of my soul has been cast away, and the devil inside me cannot be kept at bay.
The scars, they bear heavy while my friends are all cheery,

Death begins to talk, it even seems to taunt.
My mind begins to sway, and I think I'm going crazed.
My heart seems so empty, I force myself to be lonely.

7:30pm - I am crying. Wars are raging. Demons are coming. My soul is dying.

8:30pm - Try to resist a knife that sits. Pick up the phone, just so alone. Try to resist the urge that pursists.

9:30pm - Urges pursist, I finally cave in. Marks on my skin, wage a war thats within. Spirits are fighting, demons are crying. A soul is dying. Tempers are rising.

10:30pm - My heart is breaking. My temper is flaring. My thoughts are rising. A God I'm denying. I'm lost, chained, and bound. I'm tired of fighting.

11:30pm - Alone in night, along in day. My friends seem to walk away. Still I am trying. Is there any reason to living?

12:30am - Sleeping comes naught to that who is crying. A God who has ceased caring. Is there any life worth giving?

1:30am - Trying to write to someone so dear, but words alas, won't come near. I cry out for help, hoping a God will hear. Hoping someone might just be there.

2:30am - I walk to the garage, a shotgun awaits. I pick up the tool, to send me to my death. I look for the bullets, none can I find. I go to the house, to look for a knife.

3:30am - I pick up a knife, to hold to my neck. I think back on the past nine years of my life. The rediculing, the name calling, the moving, the drinking, the hell that's broke loss must come to an end.
I think of a friend. Will she miss me, I wonder. I think to a dance that had not long past. A friend... I think naught, an older sister. I remember the song that she played for my ears.
I remember my mentor, the one who discovered. I remember her efforts to tell me they cared. I remembered her words that told me she would always be there.
I thought yet again to a friend who long past. I thought to her last words to my ear. "You're loved, don't forget it. Even if I'm not here."
I thought to years long past. When I layed in the grass, my brothers at hand. I told them I was running. His response, "No, don't go. I love you to much for that. I need you to pick on."

3:45am - I put down my knife. I go to my room. I continue to cry. I may not be happy, but my life I must live. My demons then flee, but my chains still bind me. An angel protects me, of this I am sure. To sleep I must drift, I'll wake in the morn.

Depression is a war that rages.
You either win, or you die trying.
You can't escape because it binds your soul.
The pain it causes is like a whip against your back.
The pain isn't as much physical as it is mental.
The razor is your weapon against the infection.
It is a weapon, but on your own skin.
You can't snap your fingers and make it disappear.
You can't run.
It follows.
You take medications, but where does it lead?
Some people think you belong in a mental hospital.
Others.. they just think you want attention.
Most don't even look at your past to see what got you to this point.
It leaves you friendless.
It makes you shutdown.
It leaves your smiles fake.
Even if the war doesn't **** you, it still makes you feel like you died.
Even if it doesn't **** you, you are never the same again.
It brings you the point of no return.

We write poems, and dance.
We sing and we act.
Sometimes we draw and paint,
        but for what?

Someone once told me,
Write and dance to loose yourself.
That's what I then thought I had to do.
         I was wrong and that was then

I used to think the purpose of art was to loose myself,
but I quickly learned it was to,
         *find myself where I lost myself.

If you ask me if I'm okay, I'll tell you that I'm perfectly fine.
I stand in a sea filled with people, how could I not be fine?
I'm fine. Its a word that crumbles into its very existence.
It's a word that means something it was never intended to be.

If you ask me if I'm okay, I'll tell you I'm fine.
Yet - I wonder what would happen if I told you the truth.
I stand in a sea filled with people, but the one who doesn't like me rips me to shreds.
I'm fine. Its a word that means I'm crumbling into pieces.

I knew you would leave.
I knew it wouldn't be long.
I just didn't imagine life without you.
Without you to sing your song.

You were there for me when I was hurting.
When pain was ripping me apart.
I don't know how I'll survive without you.
Without you to sing along.

I know why you are leaving.
I just can't bare to see you go.
My anger dwells within me.
I know it shouldn't though.

I know you aren't really moving.
You aren't leaving me alone.
Your just leaving me excuseless for me to see you.
I know its not on purpose.

I know facebook works wonders,
and our cell phones always can be used.
Its just not the same.
I hate watching you go.

I would ask you to stay.
I'd ask you not to go.
I know my pain is great,
but not as much as it would be if I asked you to stay,
knowing your heart is telling you go.

So, go ahead follow your path.
Just don't forget me and how I looked up to you so.
The tears I shed, you will never see.
I don't want to see how much I dread you leaving me.

I close my eyes.
I try not to cry for the ones I once held dear.
I close my eyes to say goodbye, for I know the end is near.
I try not to cry as I remember the times we laughed and cried.
I close my eyes and try to imagine our farewell is not here.

When you look in her eyes, what do you see?
When I look into her eyes, I'll tell you what I see -
I see constant pain staring at me.
I don't see joy, and I don't see glee.
I see tears beginning to shed in front of me.

The place at which my roses laugh.
The place of which my garden's craft.
The  place in which I beg to seek.
The place through which heaven I see.

It is the place where my heart resides.
Where bombs were ticking at my side.
When it blew, it took my pride.
Yet, it still is where my heart resides.

I long to hear my rose's voice.
I long to walk in my garden's joys.
I long to speak with my colorless friend.
I long to feel passion again.

Alas, I miss my home.
Where my friends, they are my rose.
A clump of roses, in a bed of thorns.
Yet, still they are where my garden was born.

Home - A place of rest.
A place of faith.
A place where my family once lived.
A place of dance.
A place of song.
A place where we all sing along.
A place music is written for an instrument not itself.

However, once a place where these joys resided, now wakes only death and sorrow.

A place of enemies.
A place of crying

A place of argueing.
A place where the song written is written to hurt.

A place in which my soul has died.
A place in which I can't reside.

A place in which my anger dwells.
A place that is a living hell.

You left me
                B           U          S           D
                      R            I           E
but I later found words of LOVE

You left me
                                    s
                          ­                   C      a
                                                        ­      R    e
                                                    ­                       D
but I later found someone to stitch


You left me
               Br
                      ok
                                en
but I found something that healed


You left me
                    U s E D
but I found that one person's junk is someone else's treasure

You left me
                  LO
                  ST
but I still found a way.

I am just fine... not.
I am the daughter who is fighting her depression.
I am the friend who is trying to show compassion.
I am the stranger who is sitting there with a horrendous expression.
I am the victim that raves with passion.

I am the child who was molested.
I am the person who can't confess it.
I am the human that craves death.
I am sitting on the devils bed.

So, yeah, you could say I am doing alright,
but in reality I'm not.
I am just a child, scared and true.

You have not seen
You have not seen where I've walked
Nor where I am going
You have not seen what plagues me
Nor why my tears have fallen

You have not heard
You have not heard my story
Nor my cries of sorrow that bellow in the night

You do not understand
You do not understand why I fear to trust
Nor the memories of which I try to escape
You do not understand why I hide in shame
Nor the darkness of my own mind

You have not been asked to walk where I've walked
Nor stand, if even for a moment, where I have been forced to stand firm
You have not been asked to stand in the darkness I've with held
Nor have you been asked to hear the dreadful cries in the night

You have not been asked to look into the dark where you never thought you would ever walk
You have not been asked to understand

So there -
Do not judge me unless you have judged you
Do not tell me my wrong doings until you have found your own
Do not judge me until you have walked a mile or two in my own shoes
I am not saying you own life has not been a struggle
I am saying that you can't judge me until you have judged you

Broken.
It is such a strange word.
Broken.
It is such a strange definition.
Broken.
Can't what is broken be fixed?

If that which is broken is fixed, is it still broken?
Perhaps it is just brokenly new.
A broken heart can lead to joy.
So if a heart is sad, is it truly broken?

Broken.
Such a strange thing.
Broken.
What a strange concept.
Broken.
What a strange sound.

Why do humans call themselves broken?
Perhaps being broken, is nothing more then an allusion.
Why do we cry in despair when we seem to have broken?
Being broken only allows light to shine through the cracks.

Broken.
What a strange allusion.
Broken.
What a strange existence.
Broken.
What a strange state.

So, if broken can be fixed...
If Broken leads to joy...
If broken is an allusion..
And if light shines through the cracks of things that are broken...
Then it means two things...

Broken is a temporary state for humans.
Broken never existed to begin with.

I have a secret that burns my flesh.

I have a secret that takes my breath.

A secret so impure.

A secret so secure.

It is buried in my soul.

It digs a never ending hole.

When it speaks, it tells story.

When it speaks, it tells of death's sure glory.

When I cry, I feel it's pain.

When I cry, I hide in shame.

I have a secret, plain as day.

I have a secret, till the grave.

I have withheld secrets unbearable.
Not daring to whisper them into the darkness for fear that someone my hear
For years, I have let my cries drift out at night, but praying not a soul may come close enough to hear

I have fought a battle not everyone has
I have left the fight untrusting and never seeking out a mortal soul
I shut down without warning

I always cry, but never on the outside
I may appear to be happy and cherry, but I'm dying a slow painful death
I may be alive, but I'm barely breathing

I'm tired of running.
I'm sick of trying.
I want to stop crying.
I don't know why I keep lying.
I can't keep living.
I know I am dying.
My time is ticking.
My God I'm denying.

You keep breaking my heart into an infinite amount of pieces, but I keep picking up the pieces and placing them back in your hands.

I smell the rose at beauty's end.
I see the darkness of a friend.
I see princess pure and true.
I see a blackened heart pulling through.
I see a heart with love long lost.
I see the queen becoming distraut.
I see a fairy tale's endless night.
I see a child, pure in sight.
I see an adventure burning in the dust.
I see the prince beginning to rust.

I found an apple that brings eternal sleep.
I found a spindle that puts my heart at ease.
I found my petals lying on the ground.
My clock strikes midnight,
my time is running out.

Demons echo through the night.
She seems to cave without a fight.
The pain is to great to keep on running.
You may never again see her dancing.

Hell's gates greet his pain.
No one cares to tame life's mane.
His life seems be burning in hell.
All because of the secrets he can't tell.

Look at the girl who sits all alone.
Dying inside because of her mother's cruel tone.
Her life has been taken by man's cruel thief.
Nothing can bring her true piece.

He takes the gun to school one day.
Everyone keeps walking away.
He planed the shooting, and took the lives.
He never again plans to look at the skies.

To all those who feel this, know I do too.
It just isn't fair what life has done to you.
I know what people have taken away.
Just remember,
it is okay to not be okay.
It just isn't okay to stay that way.

In a secret tomb, my ashes lay.
          It's ashes plea in disparity.

Buried miles deep, in false deceit.
          Suffocating, alive, in agony.

Given freely, my light is gone.
           I've lost myself to a blackened            
           theif.

I search frantically for the eyes of which I loved.

I swing my arm uncontrollably reaching for the grasp that is no longer there.

Long for the bed that we used to sleep in.

My heart aches for the breath that used to tickle my neck.

I loved you and only you, but you walked away from me.

A psychopath, that I am.
Some say I belong in a mental institution.
I can plan the perfect ******.
I can be the perfect killer.
I can bring gloom to day.
I can take the joy away.
I can sing depression's song.
I can make your pain last long.

I've never seen a light in day.
I always just run away.
I'm scared of where my future lies.
I'm scared of where my past resides.

Did I mention I can plan the perfect ******?
I have a friend, she'll hide the body.
Then we'll head to a party.
We probably will never try our plans out -
but be sure we can bring you living hell.

I will not stop swimming in a sea because I'm afraid of sharks.

I will not stop dancing because I'm afraid of tripping.

I am not going to stop smiling for fear that you won't smile back.

For that same reason, yes the very same - I won't be quiet for fear of not being heard.

I won't stop being me for fear you may judge me.

We're all going to the same place - down in the ground.

Most of our lives will be summed up in a dash between two dates on a slab of stone.

I'm going to live, and I will be heard because I'm not afraid live - truly live.

Live life to its fullest, you only have one.

Don't let others talk you into silence.

Don't go in your grave before you get a chance to live.

It isn't that I don't love them, because often I do.
It isn't that I don't care, because I do that too.

I guess its just that I don't think someone can love someone like me.
I build my garden walls so high that they are impossible to break down.
I'm moody, depressed, and a hot mess.

I'm a blazing fire that will never be put out, and people always get burned playing with fire.
I am an emotional wreck of shattered pieces, and it is easy to get cut on the glass.

Yet, when those class pieces hurt others, it is never because I don't love them, its because I'm a girl that can't handle being hurt again.
I push them away so I can't break anymore.

I'm tired of being like this.
It's just kind of sad that they don't try to fight when I push them away.

My heart won't rest.
My mind won't relax.
My words are stained blood.
Your heart I will break.

Not a word has been spoken since that night.
The night where words ran wild, and no one saw the light.


                                         My heart is breaking from the people who leave.
                                             My heart was stolen by night's terrible thieve.


                          The secrets and lies that people deny.
                          The heart and pain that is dying in time.


The blood that is streaking across the skin.
The razor can't stop digging in.
                    
                                           ­             Words of hate leave ink on your bones.
                                                        Wa­nting no more to pick up the stones.


                   I wait for death to take me home.

She is alone
She is sad
She is hopeless
She is depressed
She is cutting
She is suicidal
She is ignored
She is lost
She isn't understood

She screams and shouts
Yet, no words will come out

She is tired of fighting
She is tired of breathing

And worst of all that she is me

I hate nights like this. When you want drink so you can drown your sorrows. Make life disappear. Make it all go away. Yet, it won’t last. Joy never does, but that wouldn’t even be joy. It would just be numb. No feeling. No perception of pain. No perception of right or wrong. Just numb.


All of the drinking, cutting and the running away is temporary. It eases the pain for a while but what happened when you wake up. When you can’t get ahold of a drink and the cuts get deeper with every pacing razor. You can only run for so long before your legs just give out. So, then where do you turn?


People tell me to find someone to talk to but people are human. Intentional or not I end up hurt. They are backstabbing, lying, cheating humans who cannot keep their own self preservation and if these people where to ask “what was wrong” I could not answer. I have no answer because I don’t know. I have drowned out my feelings to where I have become so numb I cannot remember why I felt the need to do this to myself to begin with. 
Yet, it is no longer medication to make the pain lesson, it has become an addiction. I cannot stop myself anymore. I am a monster and I am uncontrollable.

I am alone not because I choose to be but because I don’t want to be hurt again. I am alone. I am broken. I am a monster. I don’t even remember what joy feels like.

So I medicate.