You've forgotten me now haven't you? You've lost my taste haven't you?

Alright forget it. I'm winning this battle of what's written. I could care less for how careless you've been with my love and abuse the way I'm smitten by the way our hands are fitting. I'm at wits end and it seems like it worsens when I see you; it's a curse and I can't help but be hurt, but wouldn't you too if you knew that every chance you took to make a glance and look my way would make me who I'd like to be? Me without you is a totally different thing from you without me, because one's alright and ones okay; Ones fine and the other won't say; one is her and the other is me.
But really, it's truly okay to exclaim these fluorescent thoughts that can be said as dark as night or bright as the day.

It's hard to forget those eyes so big and bright.
It's hard to forget the hair so soft and glowing in moon light.
It's hard to forget.
Or maybe it's because you already have that I can't.
Because it was too easy for you.
Easier than it should've been.

I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself.
                                                              
No matter how many times I wipe your tears away
Or tell you how beautiful you are.
                                                                
You have to want to hear it and stop crying.

No matter how much I try make you smile
Or hug you close.

You have to want to smile and embrace me back.

No matter how much I wish I could save you.

The only person that can do that is you...

Deep.
So deep,
The knife slices and dices up her skin.
On her arms and legs. Trying to feel something, anything.
The old scars fade but new ones will soon form whenever she is left alone.
Her mother pesters her with questions,
"What happened dear?"
"Are you alright?"
"How did these get there?"
She brushes it off with an, "I fell." or "It's just a scratch."
She climbs the staircase to her room,
Finds the secret drawer and pulls out her biggest blade.
Sometimes she cuts a little, and sometimes she cuts a lot.
But this time, she aims it at her throat
And cuts as deep as she can.
Slowly watching the blood run down her neck,
Until things start to become fuzzy and dark.
She gives one last cut, deeper than ever before.
And for the first time in a long time, she feels.
Feels pain, but at least that's  something. Anything.
Her body slumps to the floor
And she lets out a whisper,
*"I'm free."

Sometimes I wonder if you'll leave me.
Sometimes I wonder if I never woke up again, what would you do?
Sometimes I wonder how you would feel if I left.
Sometimes I wonder if I actually would do it,
And you'd find me hanging from the ceiling by my neck.
How would you feel?
Sometimes I lay awake at night and think,
How many of my "friends" would genuinely miss me.
If I would be gone forever and never come back.
Sometimes I wonder if my mother has had enough and will do exactly that.
Sometimes I wonder if she wonders exactly that.
Sometimes I wonder if I will ever have a chance with you.
And sometimes I like to wonder if you think you will ever have a chance with me.
Sometimes I wonder about the stars.
Wishing that I could be one of them and get out of this town.
Sometimes  I wonder how many days until I am done with this meaningless life.
Ready to fly above the clouds and truly be free.
Sometimes I wonder how many pills it would take...
Sometimes I just like to wonder,
About anything and everything.