The old blue box filled to the brim
With bandages, Advil, and what my dad used to call "magic healing lotion"
So that we would feel special when putting it on
After falling down
From the monkey bars on the playground across the street
Or that first time I fell off of my bike

Now my pain is more than skin deep
Not a simple dab of magic healing lotion and a Spider-Man bandaid
Will help stop the blood dripping from my wrists

The old blue box filled to the brim
With bandages, Advil, and what my dad used to call "magic healing lotion"
Now sits on the top shelf of the closet
Collecting dust

he wrote my life down like he was me.
he saw the tears i cried and the words i spoke and the lies i told saying
"its alright, i'm okay."
the days i hid away were the ones he would be happy,
but happiness only leaked if you were willing to accept the fact that i was broken.
he locked his eyes into mine
and i couldn't find the key,
so he opened his mouth like these words were going to come out and be my first aid kit
leading towards the light,
failure nailed into a lonely pit,
but he smiled.
the deep inhales
and heavy exhales were my life
communicated in disasters
only to be plastered by my sighs.
and the words
"no i'm just tired"
came out more than the hours i spent washed up on a winters day
without a smile or something to say so say it.
say the words like you mean,
no twisted vocabulary,
the laughs may vary,
not many people know about feelings.
though feelings lead to love
love leads to hate,
be my fate by the reason i wake up every morning.
be the sunshine that will help me ignore the closed door of family.
the scattered songs
or the long days and nights with prosperous fights with envy as my gun and no shield.
the disparity and loneliness of home only cut me down more,
the scars opened into black holes and only oblivion was taken in by them while i nodded
accepting that my black hole was only me and myself.
i only heal my wounds to hide them
i'm not hiding any more.
he wrote
"i found you."
i found me to.

The days that are the worst
Are when I feel nothing at all
Not exactly low
Just numb

That's what depression does to you
A cancerous numbing
Slowly spreading
Until your whole brain goes cold

Trying any remedy
To feel something again
But it's too late
I've already lost all feeling

I'm no longer living a life
I'm just simply existing

I am 10 and the things said to me
again and again are like bullets
in my gut, and punches to my head
they tell me 'its your fault your dad died'
but my friend still turns to me and says
'god, you're so perfect'
I am 12 and these things are still being said
but now by different people, infact,
they are being said by the boy I used to care for
funny that, i thought he cared too

I am 13 and my eyes are bloodshot
and the ****** tissues on my bed
from the state of my wrists
lay scattered in pieces, much like my life
and the next day my friend asks
'why are you so perfect Georgia?'
but she hasn't seen my wrists yet
and she doesn't know about how many tablets
i've taken in one night
just to escape this so-called "perfection"

Now I am 14 and while my friends are out
having a laugh and making memories
I am sitting at home with an elastic band
tied around my wrist, so i keep pinging it
because people started to comment on the state
of my wrists, and legs, and stomach
and I couldn't bear any more mockery
But I'm on pills now, every morning
to control these urges to rid myself
My friend, naive is she, still messages me
saying 'I want to be as perfect as you'
No darling, you do not want this
whatever this may be,
it is not perfection
what sort of perfection
kills you from the inside?

You were rudely awoken from your dreams of happiness
Like a reoccurring nightmare
That never seems to end

No matter how many diagnoses are made
Pills you take
And fake smiles you show
You can never wake up

It's like an addiction
Anything you can get your hands on
Anything you can do
You'll always find away
To sneak into the dark once again

You whisper the words
That your life revolves around
Between forced gags
And broken tears
"You should be better"

The panic rises
Your secrets piled up like old books on a shelf
Untouched by anyone
Except for you

Your mouth feels funny
Hands trembling
You try to brush your teeth

You look in the mirror
Staring back at the girl
Dark circles under her eyes
Hair going every which way
Shirt so long
It could be a dress
Is this really what it has come to?

in her broken moments
shattered like a dropped glass
she was a catastrophic whirlwind
with makeup streaked down her cheeks
evidence of the war she was loosing
*one battle at a time

They tell us not to look into the light.
But these are the same people that tell us
Not to worry about politics just yet,
While they pile onto an unbearable debt
That we will have to shoulder when we grow.
They tell us not to be so loud,
While they have stopped making noise
About things that mattered long ago,
Leaving those who can’t speak for themselves
To suffer injustice in silence.
They tell us not to try and change everything,
While the traditions they uphold
Are helping our society crumble.
They tell us not to aim so high,
While they settle for what the world
Has told them they deserve,
Has told them is safe and normal.
So I have something to tell them.
Are they listening? Yes, there you all are.
I dare you to look into the light.
I tell you not to look away as I do everything you’ve told me not to.
If this is breaking the rules, then rules were meant to be broken,
And broken doesn’t mean what I thought it did.
I will look into the light.
I’m not turning a blind eye anymore.
I’m going to seek the light, the truth, the complicated in the world.
Looking into the brightness will not blind me,
But blindly following a lost generation of settling,
Of deafening mediocrity and suffocating quiet,
Of hiding your own brightness
Would do worse than blind me.
It would **** me.
Or worse-
make me just like you.

She free falls,
Tumbling,
Searching,
Waiting,
Wishing some good fortune would catch her.
Their biting words,
Forever echoing in her ears.
Ugly,
Fat,
Alone.
She spins violently,
Her heart breaking more and more,
With every word.
As she gets older,
And she begins to accept herself,
To love herself.
But their words come back,
And they hit her like a brick wall.
Eliminating that sliver of confidence she had,
Which took years to find,
And seconds to break.
She returns to the all-to-familiar process,
Hiding the hurt behind fake smiles,
And more made up happiness,
The happiness everyone thinks is real.
But in reality she’s lost,
Hurting,
And breaking.
But they are to blind to see it,
They are afraid to see it