When we kiss, I don't feel it
When we hug, I don't feel it
When we hold hands, I don't feel it
A kiss is supposed to be passionate, like fireworks that blow my mind
A hug is supposed to make me feel safe and warm and loved
Holding hands is supposed to feel electric, like a spark
but I don't feel it
I like you, at least as a person, as a friend
I don't love you though, I don't know what love is so how am I supposed to love you?
You're kinda boring, too stable, too dependable, too uninteresting
When we talk, you don't speak, it's me, talking to myself
and honestly I don't like myself enough to talk to me.
But what am I suppose to do, you love me.
you are obsessed with me, although I don't know why
You care for me too much for me to want to hurt you
I don't want to hurt you
but honey, I don't feel it
it, the spark, the fireworks, the love
I just don't feel it, am I really the one to blame?
I don't feel it
wouldn't you rather me feel it and love you
than me not feeling it, but staying with you out of guilt?
You love me, but I don't love you.
Honestly I don't know how to love, even if I did feel it
I don't know how to be in a functional relationship
so I'm sorry
I'm so so sorry
but I just don't feel it and its wrong to lead you on.

I was a princess once
It was long before I was sad
I was daddy's little girl and mommy's little angel
I used to twirl in my dresses and bows
happily singing my songs
then I grew up
I lost myself
I shattered
I tried to pick up the pieces
just  for one day
one day, my birthday, to be whole again
I only had enough glue and tape to piece myself together for one day
I was queen for that day
I was turning 15, my quinceañera, I was queen for a day
My dress, my makeup, my hair was perfect
I was queen for the day
but once the party was over, and my dress was taken off
my makeup washed off, my hair back to its messy oily self
I look into the mirror and I'm no longer queen
it's 2:21 am the day after my birthday and I'm still broken
I'm still me and that *****
My demons screamed, my nails clawing, trying to get out of my skin
Sure, I was queen for a day, but I'm not a queen
I don't rule, I'm not majestic, nor radiant nor elegant
I was like a little kid for a while
playing pretend
playing dress up
although I was beautiful, I was beautiful for one day
one day and one day only.
I wish I was beautiful for more than just one day
but there is only so much glue and so much tape
those aren't permanent fixes, those are temporary
just like my reign

Recovery is such a weird word.
To different people it means the same thing,
but for different things.
To me, recovery is for depression and anxiety
To another could be for drugs
To yet another alcohol
and all of them are negatives that we try to make better
and I've definitely recovered from where I was before
but, I'm not fully recovered.
I'm still getting my **** together
I'm still having bad I want to **** myself days
I'm still fighting the urge to cut
I'm still unable to cope
but I'm still trying
I guess trying, is tiring, but worth it, right?
I don't like change, and darkness was so comforting
I felt terrible for so long, but it was all I could remember
Now, I'm recovering
recovering who I was
although sometimes it feels like I'm losing who I am
whatever, thats not the point
my point is messing up is okay
relapsing is okay
and one day, I will be okay

I'm surrounded by people
people who consider themselves my friends
but they don't know who I am, not really
They all laugh and talk and do their own thing
they seem so carefree
and then there is me
me who is here
writing
feeling lonely and sad
I don't talk, I don't laugh, I'm just there
I want to talk, I want to laugh, I want to be part of something..
But no one talks, not to me anyways
Although I understand why, I'm not interesting
I'm not fun, I'm not there.
No one would miss me if I wasn't there
No one would even notice
no one would care
I guess it's my own fault though
If I did talk, they would listen, right?
If I did laugh and joke around they would join in
and I would matter and people would care if I was here or there
but I don't
because what do I have to say?
I'm not interesting, I'm not funny
I don't know how conversation works
I'm a mess, I'm a wreck, I'm absolutely desolate
I'm empty
I'm a shell of a person
I don't matter

Just one more cut
but I've been clean for 2 months
Just one more, you won't have to feel the pain any more
isn't life unbearable? Just one more cut, and you'll feel better
okay
once I start, I can't stop
more, more, more
I need more
all along my arms, my thighs, my shoulders
Deeper, I need to cut deeper, to make the relief last
I can't believe how pathetic I am, I never stay clean long
I guess that's why its called an addiction
I'm a hollow shell, and somehow this silver little blade fills me up with relief and happiness for at least a short little time.

I don't want to be something, I want to be someone*
I found that written in my bio book
To be someone
to matter
isn't that what everyone wants?
no one wants to be something
an object
used
sadly I never feel like a someone
I feel like a wall most of the time
I'm there, supporting
but no one talks to a wall
no one cares about a wall
people lean on walls
and walls protect people from outside forces
but no one protects the wall
That's why I'm the wall.
I'm there for support, but no one's there to support me.
I guess I really resonate with the quote above, I don't want to be an object
I don't want to be used, I want to be someone not something....
I wonder when I'll no longer be a wall
when I'll be a person
alive

hey you okay?
I'm fine
just dandy
no reason why I wouldn't be
are you sure?
no
Yeah, totally, I'm fine
you wouldn't care either way
your just curious, you can't help
I'm just tired
Okay, Just making sure, you know I'm here for you right?
no, your not, you can't be there at 4:21 am when I'm breaking down...
Oh yeah Totally, talk to you later okay?
Yeah of course, see ya!*
no one actually cares, they don't want to know, I'm tired thats true, but I'm the kind of tired that never goes away I'm the kind of tired that makes me want to go to sleep and never wake up, I'm the kind of tired that makes me numb. I'm an unfixable,  explosion of tired that should't even be alive