I'm happier now, I used be really sad.
I used to only write sad things, but now it triggers me when others are depressed like me.
To hear the pain a young women silently endures.
I want to tell everyone it takes time and all the things that helped me but it never seems to stick with them.
It wasn't all at once, it was day by day, one at a time.
Sometimes we aren't ready for help, pain is comfortable and all you know.
You gotta get to rock bottom before you are ready to grow.

I can't stop thinking about her
I don't want to decide whether to distance myself or get closer
All I want to do is spend time with her.
All I want to do is love her but all she can do is be a friend.
I'm okay with it, as much as I can be.
My heart is conflicted and broken,
She let's me love her from an arms length but I want to know her inside and out.
I want to love her. And I do.

It's painful to love her and know the feeling isn't the same.
My chest is empty and all I can do is shed a tear for what will never be.
Even so I keep hoping but I know
That she's not ready and I respect that
Life has a path for us all and I'm just glad ours crossed.

I've been having dreams
Where all I do is cry
All I can remember is the overwhelming sadness making my face into rivers
The strangest thing is
I'm not unhappy when I'm awake
But it leads me to believe I
Am hiding something
From myself

ive last felt so low
and i don't remember that time,
but i do sure recall the heavy feeling of all the dirt on top
of my metaphorcal grave
and this heart burn won't be helped by the liquor
but i guess this is how i hurt myself now

It's been a week of you here, the week I get off of school.
I had a week of vacation with you, but now I feel like a I need a week of vacation with me.
Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with you, and I got to do that all this week.
I just get tired and worn out being around people all the time.
So I need some me time, some Kathleen time.

Sometimes I wonder why I try to please anyone, but then I remember the things you do. I remember that relationships are a give and take, a push and pull of emotions. I just want to be loved, and often I wonder if you do. And that's why I get tired of loving you.

Do you hate me because I tell you what you do wrong? Do you resent me because I am here? Do you think I don't love you? Do you know when I'm feeling like this? It's funny that it makes me feel almost nothing anymore, I am getting used to the pain and it's not good. It's not something I want, it's a sting in my throat, a sting like boiling heartburn. But my heart is freezing, and you are the cold.

It's not burning, I wish you would...I wish you would do something. I wish it could be better, I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I could leave and not regret it. It seems that the ones we love shouldn't hurt us, but it's them that hurt us the most. And here I sit in continued silence, and here I sit wondering what to do, what to say, and how to say it. And here I sit, wondering if I should be the bigger person, or if I should go low and be myself. Here I sit wondering if I should ice you out until you thaw me out, it seems to always come back to me wondering what I have to do to get attention.

I know you're there and I'm here
Length and distance is the same thing, but space is different.
The space between us is nil, but the distance seems smothering.
I wish you lived on the other side of my bed, and I could wake you up to take a late night ride with me.
Kisses could be your wake up call everyday.
Our children could be my feathery babies.
I'd go to school and you could do your crazy binary math.
But that's not the reality of it
And we have to do these things on our own time, far away from one another
But the circles of metal around our fingers and the love between us keep us close.

You text me after dinner telling me you feel terrible, and I think it's food poisoning but it's something you don't identify as anxiety yet.
It worries me because all you want to do is watch a movie and be left alone. You tell me nothing of your troubles and leave.
One hour later I ask how you're doing and you say you're going to bed before formation.
I haven't talked to you since last night, and now I'm worried sick. You don't need me when you're upset and since you left I don't know how to talk to you.
I don't think we will make it if you keep doing this. I can't see your face, I can't hear your voice, and I can't read your mind.

I forget my capsules of bliss, and a tablet of calm while caught up in the happy I take for granted. For this I lose two days to the sadness. And then it seems like the sadness always wins.

The pills make my life flow, they make me function like rolling wheels on a smooth *****, climbing to reach something better always. Will I ever be satisfied?

I am numb, I am numb. Blood yearns to be set free, mind begs to sleep. Dependency has made me happier, but am I better off?

I don't want to feel a thing anymore.

People dissapoint, they scrub your skin with words
I don't want to turn to stone, too many things hurt
I want to be like the soft curve of a pillow
But I must join the earth, to be as standing and un-upset as rock
Rock does not hurt, it doesn't injure, but I do.
I feel the constant chilling burn of depression, and the prodding of a razor, and if that isn't enough then the occasional punch in the stomach from a few words now and then.

Can crushing turn to love so quickly?
Can a hilarious first kiss turn to intimacy?
In the beginning, I felt like ohmygoshwhstisthisfeeling. I was scared to love and to get hurt.

I thought I'd have to settle for love, I thought it would be inperfect in ways I hated.
You are more than I ever thought you would be to me.
You are superb, and amazing.
You are the sunshine in my life, the clouds I love to float on.
A life jacket, the stitches that hold me together.
I guess I'm mushy in a different way than Dani.

Remember that time in Books a Million?
Man, I love hugging you from behind.
And you have the nicest ****, I have always thought that.
But I would of never thought that someone would run their fingers over my scars and it would feel good.
You make me feel wonderful.
When we kiss I feel like melting chocolate, and when I fall into your arms its like walking into a warm building.
I just wanna lay with you all day long and wrap my legs around you.

Together, I love how we laugh, I love how we argue.(its funny),I love that we are so alike, we are the best couple.
I love us, together.

You turned my sadness into positivity.
You helped me become something new.
You turned me into someone so much better.

You're my one and only.
The one who makes me smile like no one else.
The one who helps me fall asleep.
The one who told me not today.
I love you for all this and more.
I love you, Jan.

I whisper in your ear that I want every inch of me to be touching every inch of you.
We share intimate kisses, and the word kisses doesn't even support the weight of the actual feeling exchanged when we kiss.
You stare into my eyes, and I'm not sure you can see me anymore than I can see you.
I rub the end of my nose on yours, because kissing is noisy, and
I hope I translate accurately how I feel
I shake my head, because I am so happy
I laugh at how much I love you, and how I feel.
The desire my body and soul have for you is immense.
And last night it was overflowing, in the back of your mother's car.

Yesterday I found out that the antidepressants I am on can decrease feeling in my lady parts.
I cried, not violently.
The tears slipped down my cheeks
because I realized it now affects every part of me.
My illness starts in my head, and ends in my toes.
Iam plagued with this, for what seems like forever.
Am I able to enjoy anything?
Eating makes me fat, happiness turns to sadness, my art is never good enough, *** won't make me feel a thing, friends leave, holidays disappoint me.
I hope you'll never leave me, you're my one and only.
I'm gonna marry you.
It won't get any easier, and I hope you stay for the bad and good.

I do not love my life jacket.
But I do know it's necessary, I still wonder why me? when every once in awhile I swallow a gulp of the sea.
My life jacket comes in a capsule, it keeps my mouth above the water.
I am no longer drowning, I have my life jacket, and I learned to swim without the sharks 'helping' me.
Maybe I won't need the jacket soon, but for now I swallow it
The thought of my life jacket.
Maybe I'll be able to swim on my own
Hopefully soon because I do not love my life jacket.

My nail polish is black
My hips are scarred, along with my left shoulder.
My mind is shrouded in emotionally depleting thoughts.
My stomach is burning, and churning.
I'm all out of buspirone, and they put me on prozac.
But its not enough.
I want to die, I want to **** myself.
I thought about over dosing last night, but I figured I should do some research first.
And get it right the first time.
My boyfriend says "don't, not today"
I don't care anymore.
I decided starting today that I will mark off everyday I want to **** myself.
If those days add up to more than the days I don't.
I will.

I thought about writing notes, but I don't know if I should.

When I was empty
Music echoed through my head

Then I must of felt full of life
But now I feel like a ghost

Confess your fears and dont tell me
That you arent afraid of what we dont know

I'm full now
Full of fear

And people dont understand this when I tell them
Im afraid of what I don't know
And everything else

I'll rip you out of the ground every time I see you grow.
Put you in some water in my room, deprive you of sun.
Steal your beauty away from the world, and eject you into my world.
I'll make you mine, if only for awhile.
Again and again I rip you up, to take as my own.
I hate myself, oh, how I hate myself.
Please, flower make me feel better.
I know you want to, I just need to be loved, by you.
I don't love you, you just brighten up my day.
Flower **** me now, smother me in your scent.
Wrap your roots around my neck, I deserve it.
I never loved you, flower.
Flower, die.

Have you ever felt empty, but not sad?
I am hollow, made of hollow bones.
I am decrepit oil paint, I am decomposing energy.
I am a whisper of italicized print, with the intensity of bold print.
I am the lightning in a storm, a withering thing.
I am bleach, sadness, poison.
Don't love me, I am infected, I'll **** you slowly.
Don't sit here, next to me.
Alluring? Hardly.
Poetry? Basically.
Depression? Definitely.
The pills don't help as much as they used to, I'm dying.
Rotting on the inside, you say life is a privilege.
But I'm not living, so please help me.
Sorry, but I feel like dying, killing myself.
Smoking, drinking, cutting.
I can't help it, anything to take the pain away, the pain of being me.

so i wrote a poem, or am writing something
i don't know what i need, i have no idea what i am
i took a huge step backwards

People move in and out of my life, and some literally do move.
Or I move, far away to another state.
We never speak again, and if we do its as strangers once again.
It's sad to say goodbye, but this is the truth again and again.

But do I have the right to move someone out of my life purposefully?
I have no idea if I even want to, I know I can.
Can I let people slip out of my life slowly, knowing what is happening?
Can I just let that happen, and want it to?

Angelina, I'm sorry you're so sad.
Angelina, I'm so sorry that your stomach hurts.
If I could fix everything I would, honey.
Just let me hug your little frame.
We're at such different speeds, we're such opposites.
Why do I like you so much?
I haven't wrote a love poem about anyone but Ricky in a long long time.
And I wouldn't call this love, but more like infatuation.
You're so adorable, and cute.
Angelina, I'm your friend, and I'll be here for whatever you need.
I care about you, just let me help you.
Angelina, I'm sorry I can't do anything for you.
I'm sorry you're so sad.

I left you 40 minutes ago and my heart is longing.
Oh my gosh, I am scared.
Feeling like this is bound to get me hurt.
I feel like I'm falling and falling
I don't want to admit this to myself.
I don't even want to talk about.
I have a longing in my chest, warmth in my stomach, and a smile on my face.
But oh, ****
Is it going to hurt when I hit the ground.

I looked at the way my **** was squished under me, I laughed and thought "that's ugly".

I then looked over at the scars on my hip.
"Now that's really ugly."

Sadness is worse than anything
Sadness comes with so many things.

Often I think life is boring...
I want to self destruct..
Cut
Drink
Smoke

But nothing is worse than sadness...
And there are so many types.

Self destruction doesn't make it better,
It will only make it translucent
For only as long as the high..

I thought you knew that.
I don't have the tools to tighten the nuts and bolts that are loose in your head.
I can't help you.
I don't have what you need, and I never will.
So, sorry.

I know that I cant fix you, but I'm believing that now no one else can either.

You're hopeless, you're the only one who can help you.

You can't seem to get that through your skull.

I can't understand why and that is probably because mine is equally as thick.

And the thing is, this isn't poetry anymore.
Its a neverending string of thoughts that needs no configuration.
And maybe thats because my thoughts aren't tangled like headphone wires.
But... no.
That's not true, that thought was crazy.
Instead, maybe, I'd rather lay everything out, in simple terms.
And just slightly, I feel like that just goes to show that things are better.
Rather than bundling up my knotted wires and shoving them into my pocket
I lay them out to see
I'll lay my awful cards on the table
Ill fold,but that.doesn't require giving up.
You can still listen to music with tangled headphone wires.

His name is Luis.
He had a half dozen or so white scars on his tan arm,
I struggled to force my fingers to quickly run over his arm,
a quick touch that meant so much, and he knew too.

He didn't react to this, he looked at my fingers on his arm.
That was it, and I decided to show him what it meant to me.
I turned so my left shoulder faced him, rolled my t-shirt sleeves up, like I was hot, and I was.
It took him 5 minutes to notice, or to say something.
He didn't touch me, he ran the edge of his phone against my shoulder and scars purposefully, 3 times and said 'arm' the last 2 times.
There were no words exchanged, other than 'arm'.
I didn't look up when he did this, I kept my eyes on my book.

It was surreal in all the chaos of school.
It wasn't forced.
It was settled.
We both accepted the way it was.

On the way out
I wanted to grab his arm, and tell him that I was so sorry.
And now I really wish I had...
It has so much meaning
so much sadness.

It rips my heart open every time it happens.

"It gets better" was a phrase I didn't believe, not even for a second.
I would say it to myself, thinking I was lying to myself.
I would say it just to say it; just to get myself through the day.
I said it, I maybe even believed it.
But I still didn't realize that as I told myself a 'lie' it was getting better.
I felt more in control, and simultaneously was realizing some of the things I can't control.
It's better now, it really is.
So help me stranger, you believe it!
It is, find the resource, want to get better, and you will.

If you tell yourself that it will get better, and don't believe it
just you wait, just you wait, stranger.
You aren't lying to yourself.

I'm thinking that I like you a lot, but its kinda weird.
Do you like me or not, I thought it was kinda clear you did?
But they way you treat me doesn't make me feel so sure.
I'm predicting that I never have deep feelings for you
I'm afraid of getting hurt, of being embarrassed.
I think I'll tell you that when I see whats going on.
It's only been awhile, it's okay.
Calm down, Kathleen.

But at least I try.
I know about people more than one might expect.
I understand people, maybe because I understand myself.
I'm honest with myself about how I feel.
I feel like I'm not as strange as I once thought.
Other people have thoughts like me.

I thought I wanted to be unique, but I just want to be understood.
Hey, can you understand me too?

Maybe I don't understand myself, very well.
But, I accept myself, I try to love myself, and I know whats best.
I am independent, and genuine, I can do it all.
I can do anything, I don't think it will be easy, but I can.

I wish I could ask others questions like I do myself.
I will probably get as good as an answer as I get out of myself.
But I'll feel better anyway.

I fell out of poetry, singing, drawing, and painting.
Somehow sewing, make-up, AP, and seeing a counselor replaces all of the above.
I feel bad about myself--I really feel bad about myself.
I feel like ****, like no one appreciates me.
I am not valuable, not important.

I need my medicine, without it I would be sludge.
I'm not focusing.
My anxiety is worsening.
I can't tell if I am better or worse.
I can't tell if I am..anything at all.

I thought I had myself all figured out
I thought that when I was in one of these 'moods' or having one of those "days" I was only looking through a tinted window where I saw everything negatively
But I realized
that it is the pills that sugar coat my world in synthetic happiness

It's not what I look through, its me.
Its on my insides, the sugar has to slide down my throat
to make it all better

she said it would even me out
i thought she was right at first
but now i realized she was a liar, and only a liar

I'm the one that needs to be sugar coated for others.
I'm the sour candy coated with fine powdered sugar.
I'm the bad that the good is trying to cover up.
And that is sickening, but how do I react?
Take another pill, Kathleen.

I don't think I've said a word to you.
But the first time I saw you, I wanted to see more of you.

So let me tell the story,
one day you showed up in my 2nd period, and the next you were gone, and I longed...
I saw you on the way to 3rd a week later, and noticed you have a part of your head shaved under your lovely hair.
I've always wanted to talk to you, but can never find the words. ( or the time)
So today 5 weeks later(or so) I saw you in the testing room and couldn't stop staring at the back of your head. I see you're from a different state. I found out your name was Ravenn.

Man, that's super cool. Are you as dark as Raven from Teen Titans?
I wonder if I'll ever speak to you, cause I really hope I do.

This is the first I thought this, but I really liked it.
And that's abnormal, but makes a lot of sense.
And I don't really understand why I still think about you, but there's a lot of other people I think about that I left behind in one way or another.

So I'm a sunflower, or black eyed Susie, and you're a ***** with thorns, but you're just as elaborate as a passion flower.
I liked the way you looked just about as much as I like flowers.

But the thing that's similar is that when we wilt we will look just the same.
And my dear, my darling, that's a shame.
Cause I wish we would have never left the garden.
But we were picked, and that was it.
Now we're just waiting for death.

why won’t anyone just tell me it will be okay

my eyes ******* burn
and now I understand the phrase “hot tears”

everyone in my life is as useless as I

my teeth hurt because i clench them too much
just like my heart hurts because I’m burning it with anger

my stomach wants to jump out of my throat, and I wish it would
my body should just self destruct

god, why won’t anyone tell me it will be okay

My heart catches in my chest, and I feel it ache for you.
I stare in bliss at you, and it feels like things have stopped.
My stomach jumps up to my throat, and I cannot breathe.

You still take my breath away, even after you cut your hair.
You still take my breath away, even if you wiped your mask of makeup away.

Even though I've never seen you in a more intimate way than sitting next to me, you take my breath away.
And no word, or sentence could describe how I feel for you.

I have no idea what is so amazing about you, but I know you can't see it.
That's really something shame, because the way I feel for you just feels so ******* right.
I know you think you're crazy, and I know you think you're lost and terrible.
God ******* ****** I will help you find yourself.
Please, just listen to me..

I'm sorry, and those words are all I can really say.
All that I have ever said to you.
It must be frustrating to be where you are.
I know, but I don't care as much as I did.
I have sympathy for you and your situation.
But I can't do anything for you.
I'm tired of breaking off pieces of me and giving it to you.
I am not willing to help you any longer, I am spent.
I'm really, truly sorry for your unhappiness.
There is nothing I can do for you, only what you can do for yourself.
I keep trying to tell you that only you can bring yourself true happiness, but you never listen, never understand.
Ricky, is a name I say mostly with a tone of pity.
I'll send you your things back sometime in the near future.
I hope things get better for you.

I feel like I wiped my whole desk of life off. Now I am lost, and have nothing.

I've just about fallen through the rickety wooden floor of my life. I have no idea where I'm going anymore.

I don't know anything anymore, and I'm not sure of any part of the future anymore.

Every bit of hipster culture tells me that is is okay not to know your path or future.

I don't think I like it though. I feel like everything has been erased.

My life turned upside down in a way where things are okay. But I am afraid.

The future is mysterious, but I've been told I can't change it anyway.

So I mind as well not even try, just try to shape it in the best way I can.

I'll get there safely, and I'll be happy(hopefully) someday.

As always I will put my faith in the occurrence of events, and try not to worry too much about things.

Try to do the best that I can, even if I feel that things have been crushed and molded again.

Even if I want to give up, and sit out once and for all.

I'll make it through, even on my darkest days.

I will prevail
I will fight
I will lose
I will win
I will live
I will die

Different shades of red thoughts haunt my waking motions. Different shades of red thoughts make me feel like I have nothing left. Different shades of red thoughts are covered in all the blood that I have bled. You never want to see these thoughts, you never want to see all the things that have made me bleed.

I don't want to talk to you.
Sometimes I want to talk to anyone but you!
Occasionally I do things that are bad for me.
And I make mistakes that are teachers.
I wish I could say that I almost always feel bad and have it be a lie.
I hate being so tired all the time, and even more than that I hate being hungry.
But most of all, I really hate not knowing what to do about you.

I'm so tired of being sad and the sick feeling it gives my body.
I have once before gave in to the ******* black hole, but no more.
I will be whole.
I will get back to the stables again
I will get back on the horse, and ride through the coarse no-wheres.
And one day when I have defeated all the demons, I will sit down in my Windsor chair.
And in that chair, I will take great care to thank the horse that brought me there.

everything is falling apart again
crumbling like the earth beneath our feet
oh how I wish it was crumbling and crunching
how I ******* wish I was closer to you
this is what broke us
(I actually did)

I'm glad I got out when I did
'cause your world has crumbled around you, but not because of me
I've crumbled within myself a long time ago, and now I'm just waiting for the earth to crumble beneath me
Just waiting and waiting for things to happen
Always waiting and wanting

I wish I could break myself
but its hard to hurt yourself the way others can
It doesn't make any sense, but I know I'll never be able to hurt myself the way others did
Shouldn't you have the most power over you?
It's not that way in reality.

I will go into a hole
a deep abyss
wet or dry?
dark or light?
drained, not elated
I will be gone
I will be graced with nothing
I will be buried by copious amounts of air dirt and water
I will be complete with nothing added
I will be completed with silence in mind
a black hole ignited with color
a void that I would welcome
a hell so heavenly I would float into it willingly
a palace not envied
but a place better than here.

I haven't felt like I was edging into a trench.
Or maybe I won't know when I'm going to fall.
And that is the worst fear of all.

The life of a self harmer is complicated, sometimes orderly and routine.
Or perhaps chaotic and jagged.
The life of a self harmer can be happy, struggled, or crushing.
We are not trying for your attention, we are for ourselves.
We feel inferior when we look at others self harm
Our minds sometimes revolve around this.
Gathering supplies, and sneaking around.
Hiding cuts, burns, bruises, or scars.
So prepare to feel alone, and inferior.
Prepare to lie, and withhold the truth.
Brace yourself for the constant worry that wounds will be infected.
Pack a bag of anti-anxiety pills for all the triggers that will be thrown your way.
Prepare to go back and forth with yourself: "I want it so bad." and "I DON'T WANT IT ANYMORE."
Have fun trying to pick out swim suits, or changing in gym.
Be careful about panic attacks when you cut deep or bleed a lot.
Get ready to jump for joy at razors, and for the triggers of any sharp object.
You'll wonder if you've gone crazy, if you could possibly not be insane.
Once again prepare yourself for the other people who harm themselves, you will see them at school, online, at the stores, you will hear about them everywhere.
You will hear people make fun of it, you will want to yell and scream.
You will wonder why you still do it, and how you could ever think the way you do.
And don't forget how you will feel so much guilt and regret almost every-time.
Don't let it slip your mind that you will always have it with you, and no matter how long you've been away from it.
Because it is with other people.
I almost forgot that you will feel like you can't get away.
And when other people find out, people that love you, it will hurt so bad to see them hurt.
They will be angry, and they won't understand. They care though.
And there will be so much more if you go down this road.
It's so hard to climb back up, but it is possible.
Sometimes I yell at people back on dry land, and ask them how they got there.
It's different for everyone, but please stay dry and off this cliff.

Today was a day
As I always say when a day seemed to have been quite a ride
Tiring and frustrating
But little conflict
Which I am always thankful for

How long do I have left?
I'm getting ready, gathering supplies.
Lying in wait for the most important part.

People may say I need to get a grip
and they do not even have an idea how long ago
I let go

I let go and grasp
my fate
of either way

And really it could go
any way I want it to go

What way do I want
it to go

I know which way it should
but should I
do this

Or can I
do this

You say I can
but I'm not sure

You aren't inside my head
you can't see these thoughts

I doubt you want to
and I doubt you could stand it

It's not beautiful or pretty
like you say I am

Beauty isn't deep
it doesn't count for the nights
that I use those most important things