The drugs, oh the drugs, what do they do?

They don't bring me any closer to you.

She lost herself in her sadness and drowned sorely in her tears.
Emotions flooding;
shivers down her spine,
freezing into the depth of her bones,
Hurting. She hides... Like the moon behind the sun;
aches and sorrow behind her smile.

Poems on
  graph paper
crumpled
in the bottom of  my
  backpack.

if I starve myself my bones will show
if I cut my thighs no one will know
theyll check your wrist for cuts and scars
but none will mend the broken heart.
ill pop the pills and die real slow.
quietly, so no one will know.

they tell me my hair needs to be waist-length and
that I need to feminine with a man's strength.
that my skin needs to be crystal clear
no matter the season.
and that I must always keep my composer no matter the reason.
that I must wear heels that hurt my feet
to beat every other woman that must be beat.
that being a woman is all competition, and you must get first place.
or die alone and never feel the grace.
the grace of getting married
or grace of being called beautiful
or having an amazing family.
they tell us to have these things we must be "PRETTY"

here your only memory lies
from your funny stories
to your lovely lullabies.
from the times that we laughed
and the times we cried.
we went through all of this just to say goodbye.
but in my heart you will always be
till the day I die and see you in front of me

hangman is a game we all used to play
but do we know the real meaning of the game?
some words will hurt
some will be the trigger to the gun
some with be the knot thats tied in the rope
some will be the sharp edge of the blade
and some will be the death of me