I chose to do something better for myself today.
I'd love to do that everyday, and never make a mistake.
Those mistakes are what make us choose better.
I wish I would always steer myself away from the worse.

Sometimes I would just choose to go off the rails, and never actually do it. And others I would be chugging along full speed and hit a rock, or a boulder.

With or without help I always get back on and always keep chugging along.

I'm Sorry.
I'm sorry.
I offer my sincere condolences.
I apologize.

It is so real to me.
I see it's harmless name everywhere, and it looks so innocent off of the context of your skin.
It haunts me where ever it is or whatever state it is in, and it is so shadowed to me.
But also extremely real, and vivid.
So chilling, but it also sets me to fire.
I see other harmless names and I am foreign to the lands of those graves.
I am glad, but I hate that this stands out to me.
I am walking the path of the graveyard, and will I fall in to my likely grave?
Or will I break off onto the swept path?
I will not know, but I am passing the graves of others who have succumb to the rough grips of these names.
And on these graves there are things written, telling what pushed and buried them in these graves.
And I see many empty graves and blank headstones ahead.
I know that mine may be waiting for me, and self harm is pushing me along the path to it.
Still, I am pushing back and I will ***** the swept path with my muddy feet.
And once I am there I will run far away and never let myself be pushed again.
I will not be buried in the dirt of self harm.

You think no one is there, and no one cares. And that no one understands, but I get it more than you think. Be honest with yourself. I'm sorry you feel like how you do, and I'm sorry I can't help. You think the only someone you need is the only someone you don't. Listen to your head, cause your heart is what got you here. Let everything be equal rule. You have strong thoughts, and you say you aren't strong. But you really really are, so please do what you need to do to be okay. And if you need to stop eating, and start harming then let me make you better. Let me make you okay, listen to the people around you that care. Someone is no good, and you don't need someone. I know you feel the lowest you have, but it is okay because you have to hit the ocean in the bottom of it's gut before you float back up. I don't want to see you again, because it hurts to see you hurt. And I don't think you understand how I care, but I'm too scared. I'm sorry, so sorry. I knew it too, I knew someone was no good. I warned you, but you were too blinded by everything.

You shut me down.
I try and try.
But I am rejected, and then am dejected.
I shut my mouth and give up with it all.
I shut down myself, I keep myself in.
I give up, and stop.
I go into sleep mode the way your computer would.
There and responding just when I need to.
But I don't want to be.

Relax and shut up

Flood gates break eventually because you can't bottle all the water
You shouldn't even try cause glass breaks and metal rusts
Don't plug the leaks, let it flow and wash things away slowly
When it breaks it hurts and hits you hard
Flood gates don't hold forever, and now I miss you.
I miss the bus, and I miss ponds.
I miss the hill and that stupid tree.
I miss the new houses.
I miss the ******* rain, and I want the stupid accents back.
I want it all back, and I can't ******* have it.
I want the tiny field flowers and trampoline.
The puddles and that one snow day.
And I regret not taking enough pictures, cause now I don't remember.
And now I hate it, and I want to go back.
I miss you and the flooded yards.

Surviving a bad week of urges and yearns means the weekend it finally light
Thank god it didn't continue
Thank me I didn't give up
Proud of me because I am winning battles.
Praise me! because I am getting closer to the end of the war
And of course, with a sure victory.
Although, not even half of a half finished, I am hopeful.
I will do this, I will win.

Proud of myself for the little things
It made me smile
Made me happy
Made me feel high on joy
I won a battle today
I got rid of another part of it
Finally happy with myself
I didn't win the war
But this battle didn't need a tiebreaker

I suppose I am fatigued in thinking all the time about harming myself.
I want to hurt myself I want to hurt myself I want to hurt myself.
My thoughts are racing with those terrible phrases.
Triggered and triggered after trigger and trigger.
Everything and anything.
Red, sharp, word, or scratch.
I hate I hate I hate I hate.

I wonder if you check up on me in ways I don't know.
Then I think that it's not like you to do those kinds of things
And that it's just me that does that.
I wonder if you can tell when I'm lying with the words "I'm fine."
And then I remember that you listen to my voice, and you can't see my face.
I wonder how sad I can be with you
because I love you and I'm happy
but I'm not with you.
I wonder if I'm really only what makes me sad
Then I know that I am
because I think and think and think
And that's what makes everything hurt most, I suppose.
The deeper you dig, the more you reveal, the more you hit, the more it hurts.

And it never occurred to me that things might be more important than they actually are.
That the reason we do things is not the reason at all.
There must be something greater than us, because if this is all we meant for; I do not want to be here any one bit.
This is not the universe's final quest.
Why don't we do better?
Why don't we make the cosmos proud?
The only greater things watching us are the planets and the seemingly infinite stars.
And now we no longer care who is watching us, we do bad no matter what.
We should do better because maybe this all is a test.
We should do better because we decide our own fate.
And it probably never occurred to you that things mean more because we make it mean something and you have so much to think about with your fancy cars, silly phones, and dumb t.v. shows.
There is so much more to life than that.

They say that if you throw someone into a bad situation they will jump out, but if you give them good and throw in some bad they will stay.

They tell us we will never find anyone better and we believe them. And maybe that's cause we figure either everyone else is worse or just as terrible.

The tell us no one else will love us or put up with us. And we believe just the same. Maybe we don't want anyone to love us because we hate ourselves.

We shouldn't be loved, we deserve what we get.

This is what we think.

And this is how we think.

and there was nothing I wanted to share anyway

wish you would stop caring                                         Can I?
 so I could start cutting
wish you would stop dreaming                                    
so I could stop breathing
wish you weren't you
so I wouldn't be(with you)me                                      Can you?
want you to stop crying
so I can
want you to be alright
so I can
want you to leave me be
so I can be me                                                          Can­ we?

Stop hiding from yourself.
Stop lying to yourself.
Your insecurities shouldn't be ignored.
And your strengths shouldn't be flaunted nor ignored.
Stop telling yourself you can't, stop telling other people too.
Stop forcing yourself.

I'll show myself my whole self.
I'll end my constant "I'll do it later." or "Eventually." phrases.
I will know and learn from the insecurities, and always try to get better.
My strengths are not to be thrown in anyone's face, and not to fill my head to the bursting.
I can and will, and so can you.
And hopefully time will not force me either

We're all dying someday
and I'm done hoping it's my day every time I wake up
My sadness is not my life
I'm not living it
I'm feeling it
I'm leaving it behind, once I die
Along my anger, which I'm smashing into the ground
I will die someday
and the day I die will not be my last day
I will linger in your hearts

          I hope

Oh look...
I feel hollow once again
Why?
I don't know
Everything drained out of me slowly, but when it was all gone I felt empty and alone.
What does my mind go to as soon as I am empty?
It conjurers up a thought to fill the space, and an action to distract me.
Dizzy and timed, all I want to do is sigh..

You ask me why, referring to another thing.
But I can only look at you.

Again and again.

F a l l i n g  and f a l l i n g

up up up I go every time, floating so high

and soon

I fall down

to a bad bad place

And every time I get up, my legs are stronger

and I can breathe easier

because the load on my shoulders fall with me too

Stand up.
Stand strong.
We know you can do this.

You're just apprehensive, like you've been for so long

Let the words flow from your mind
Move your body to the rhythm of that music
Feel it in your bones, and let it loose.
Let it go, send it so far away.
Shake it free, shake it out.
Kiss Satan goodbye, and tell the demons to get out.

GET OUT OF MY HEAD
*******
I'm better than you.
And you've never helped me!

We see you struggling, baby.
But we can't do anything for you.
It's you and only you, save yourself.

Saving me, while I save you.
I DON'T NEED YOU, I DON'T NEED THAT.
You can disappear, because I DON'T NEED THOSE SHARPS.
AND I DON'T NEED THE WORDS.

If I'm dying I'm taking you with me.
If I'm living I'm killing you.
LIVE WITH ME AND YOU'RE KILLING YOURSELF.
You can't win.

I can't win..
BUT I WON'T GIVE UP.
And you will not win.

With my hair up and my hair down, I am beautiful.
With cuts or no, I am beautiful.
With tears running down my face and hateful insults in my head, I AM BEAUTIFUL.
My body should not have to fit into the cookie cutter of society's body expectations.
The heat from the oven that the world is has grown me and now I realize that is NOT THE WAY TO LIVE!
I may be bigger than that cookie cutter, but I am PROUDER, I may not be as pretty, but I know that I will always be beautiful in my own ways.
I will NOT be shaped by society's cookie cutter, it will sever my best parts.
It will destroy what is unique.
I know that I am beautiful no matter what anyone says, and that cookie cutter can't have me!
I know what is right and what is wrong, and SOCIETY YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG!!
HOW DARE YOU TELL US WHAT OUR BODIES SHOULD LOOK LIKE?!?
How dare you make little girls and young women feel as if they are ugly and not good enough?
These are not your bodies, you cannot make our choices, and you cannot control them.
They are our bodies and they are beautiful.

And it still hurts bad..
to know the truth about everything you thought.
but it was all a lie
it's all lies in this world
don't let it fool you
you can't see what is true and what is a lie
just let it go, and live your life in those lies
I know you never cared I know you never cared before
and now why do you care about the lies
you lied to me so many times
what makes you think I can do any better with the truth now
see me bold, and see my eyes
they let you know that I am hurt
and the lies still hurt
it still hurts bad..

Forcing myself to preform the treasure.
Not thinking at all about the sparkling blood.
Not caring about the consequences until afterwards.
**** ME NOW. I'M SO STUPID.
I HATE MYSELF. HIT ME, BRUISE ME. HATE ME, please..
I don't want to go, but do I really have to stay here?
Help me..please..
Can you tell me those things please?
It only caused me trouble, why do I do it?
Not enough is wrong with me, please as if.
My distorted thinking, look what it is.
Look what it has become, maybe I'll start starving too.
I hate the way I look more now than ever.
It makes me worry.
And I'm sorry for my rambling, but I can't help it.
I worry about the future and what the heck I'll do when I get there.
Just stop, quit that, stop that.
goodbye

He's gonna get tired of me.
He's gonna get tired of the sadness my mutilation causes him.
And he's gonna leave.
And I'll be too sad to even pick up the sharp metal.
I won't even want to open my eyes everyday.
I won't have enough in me to even cry.
I'm sorry, honey.
He's not gonna want me anymore.
And I'm too sad for him, and I'm too much of a mess.

Art appears to be a well thought out process, but really it is something that comes off the tips of your fingers and spills onto paper. It isn't neat or orderly, but what beautiful thing is? Art reflects our innards, the thoughts we have, and our torturous feelings. Art is my healing savior.

You're so sweet, all the time, maybe too much.
But yet, it seems like you try to make me angry.
Then you are oblivious to whatever it was that  you said, or did.
And me, being the person that I am hides my anger and develops a grudge.
I may be overreacting to something minor, but I hate it.
And I want to say that I hate you, because lately you've been making me feel this a lot.
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU
You don't know when to shut up either, you just keep talking when I want to rip my head off.
I've really had enough of this, I'm tired of being so upset that I become ill.
Just leave me be, because I am tired of my feelings.
I am sick of wanting to hurt myself over stupid things.
I am sick of you, I am sick of me.
I am sick of life, and sick of death poisoning my mind.
I just want to die..sometimes.

I draw on my sadness to form my poetry, but my sadness has become invisible. And here I am still writing about my sadness when I am not really sad. I am just waiting for it to become visible. I'm addicted to my sadness, so maybe I should write about my happiness for a change.

I feel kinda wrong not feeling kinda bad.
Is this good, that I'm happy?
Yes, that much I know.
It puzzles every fiber of me though.
What has changed within me, what has changed in this month?
Did anything even?
I'm okay, I'm alright.
But am I right?
I guess that saying goes forth true, "You get addicted to a certain kinda sadness."
I was reluctant to let it go, but this is what I wanted all along.
I am happy for now, and that is all that matters now.

My mother once said that the scars we give trees are permanent just like the ones we have ourselves. This was after they found out I was harming myself. This is five years ago.
My mother cried, my father did too.
It was one of the only times I've seen him cry.
My mother had told my father, probably the night she saw the marks on my wrist.
We all sat in my room after my father got home from the trip he was on.
They asked me why, but I didn't know, and gave them some lies.
They heard it as what they wanted to: Truth.
Days later they found a note for after I was dead in a blue notebook, that I still have.
How foolish I was to leave it out.
You can imagine that went over well.
They asked, crying "It's just one of your stories, right?"
I told them the word they wanted to hear.
I can't remember much, and we never talk about that time now.

But four years from that time the problem arose again.
They haven't seen my marks, they are on my hips.
Hidden by the cotton of my underwear, how clever am I?
Not very.
But I am slowly fighting this off, and solving a problem that couldn't be solved the first time.
I'm glad I've a second chance now.
I'll remember what my mother once said, and listen to her more.

I read things based off love all over, in books, on the internet, and in the faces of many people.
I wonder if I will discover that love everyone looks for, and then I wonder if I have already found it.
These people seem to have eyes for only this person, and that person only, they seem to desire nothing else but that person.
This perplexes me because I can say I love someone in the way I've been searching, but I can say that I do not always desire just this person.
Is my love not deep enough?
Is it not love?
Maybe I should stop asking and start believing..?
How do you know though?
Love is not measured, it is immeasurable.
It is something of no mass, but at the same time weighs more than the human itself.
Love is infinite.  
I can say that I love this person, and know that I do.
But is this the right person?
I feel as if I shouldn't be asking if this were, but for as long as I am happy I will be here.

I experienced something yesterday, I wouldn't call it heartbreak. But if I were to call it heartbreak, I would have been breaking my own heart. I feel like I'm picking up feelings I dropped yesterday, right now. Everything made my eyes want to drip salty tears, and my face wanted to crinkle in sadness. It's only been 3 days, and I know it isn't time. But today, I was scared to ask my mother if it was okay to want to get back together with him. I never realized how much I can rely on the people here in my home. The people that wake me up in the morning. I have never had tears brimming my eyes for days at a time, it was a newer experience. One that I needed. I know life is only preparing me now for what is to come. I've had it pretty easy all my life, it only gets harder from here. And I, ha, I only get stronger.

Thank you so much, I'm learning so much about myself. (And I'm learning that I don't understand myself very well.) Thank you so much, I like myself more. Thank you so much, I actually think I'm beautiful. Thank you so much, I like more music now. Thank you so much, I know what love is now. (I know what obsession is now too.) Thank you so much, I know what attachment is. Thank you so much I cannot love another. (But only romantically.) Thank you so much, my compassion is through the roof. (I only like this so much)

Congratulations you've made me a better person.
(But you haven't improved you?)

Wonderful, you love me.
(But do you love you?)

But really I do wish to thank you so much.

Please don't acquire the bad habits of your sister.
I know you look up to her, but she isn't too bright sometimes.

Don't get acquainted with her anger, it's not something you want to know as well as she does.
Don't become impatient, life is full of waiting and it's better to just be patient with it.
Never think anything about harming your lovely skin.
Please don't hide your tears under your pillow, we want to share your pain.
No creating a bottle of emotions inside you, cause sooner or later it will get shook up.
Don't let people's words bring you down, like your sister did when she was your age.

You are so wonderful in every way, do not ever forget that.
We love you, honey. More than you could ever know.

It seems to me
that every time
I get to a high place
I slowly
             start
                       to
                               f
                               a
                                l
                             ­     l
                                          and fail.

Sometimes I have an overwhelming urge to take you away from all your stress and what you have to deal with. I want to wrap my arms around you and say:"Ahhh, you're finally safe.". I know it seems silly, but I love you. You might not be as delicate as I feel like you are, but I want to protect you from everything. I want you to never feel bad, and never be hurting inside, out, or in your head.

I've always thought that I hated people, I was mad at the world.
I hated it all and everyone was ugly to me.
Today I had a thought. I realized that I fall in love with certain things about everyday people.

I fall in love with the scrawled writing of the person sitting next to me in Spanish.
I fell in love with the hands of a boy who sat in front of me on the bus.
I fell in love with the pretty cheekbones of a girl with short hair, and a stubborn attitude.

I noticed these things no one else did, like the raindrops in a brunettes hair or the way someone talked as if they never got to before.  

Maybe I am not as cold as I thought.
And maybe some people aren't so bad.
Maybe there is something good to be seen in us all.
                                                              
 ­                               


                               ­                                 It's just not always seen first.

You asked me today why I wanted to harm my body, you said everything was perfect and happy. You didn't understand why.  I couldn't answer and said that I didn't know. I hope you read this so you'll know. It's an addiction, something I'm so used to. It's something that I love doing. I love the marks it leaves, the straight perfect red lines or the faded beauties.  And I think the blades are so beautiful, and captivating. I know this is strange and sad, but it's my mind.. I love the blood, and the clean up. Being the doctor of my own self, and harm. I love the silent mind it gives me, the indifferent feeling, the numbed mind. Those feelings are almost better than the straight happiness you deliver to me. But I've kinda figured out that even if I'm happy, I'm sad, or angry. Or whatever else. It's just hidden, and it stinks for lack of a better word. And believe me, I do not want to have this weighing over me for the rest of my life, and I do not want to feel like this forever. I'm just comfortable with it, this sadness, and I don't think I know how to let go of the harming. But I'm not giving in, even though I feel as if I'm close to giving up however many days I've been without this. And I think I've explained to you before that I'll do other things, and I do. I try not to though.. I want you to know that I'll be fine though, I am okay. I don't need you to try and fix me, or cure me of whatever this is. I just want you to be here, and make me laugh when I'm sad. I'm very grateful I have you though, thank you. I love you, ***. Mwah~

I realized today the world isn't as perfect as I thought.
Well, I always knew, but I never had proof.
Or a realization.
And until now everything was covered in a veil.
But as I realize this, and become less naive things become harder to accept.
I understand myself more often, but what is that worth when all I see anywhere is the ugliness of the world and its people.
I'm too young to have known that life is meaningless..but all the same meaningful.
But how do I tell the ones that I love that I don't feel the need to be here anymore?
That I do not want to be here..?
How do I tell people that I believe we have no other purpose but to be here?
And by being here we are only destroying things.
I am puzzled at this, and I wish to not have this mind.
I wish to not have this body.
Please give it to someone who wants to live.
I have this privilege of a physical body, and a mind that comprehends adequately but I do not want it.
I'm tired of knowing and seeing.
Bring me back to an age where nothing hurt and nothing was thought.

My heart aches for a time.
For a moment in the stream of everlasting seconds.
I hope I lose that time when I miss you.
I thought I was losing my memory.
But then I remembered that if I forget, I'll forget you.
Then it was okay, and then
I told myself to think of nine in place of you.
That number was better than you.
And I wanted my dreams to let me see the number nine, asleep.
But do not wake me up, because I won't forget.
And I can't remember, because you are nine.
And I am nothing, and you are forgotten in the time of nine.

Girl, you've got ****** hips.
Girl, you've got scarred wrists.

We've gotta fix this ******* mix.
Find a way to not, and "cut" that ****

No "please stop"s or watery eyes.
Only "Be strong" and "You can do this".

That isn't the way to be happy, ***.
You know that this is only dumb.

If you think you can't do this, all you have to do is try.
I won't stop loving you if you don't succeed the first time.

I'll hold your hand walking there, and nudge you in the right direction.
Let you go from there.

You might think you need me, but I know you can do this on your own.
And if you want help, I'll help you.

You're strong, you're brave.
You're everything you are, and you're more than you think.

I am a boiling rage inferno. So angry I had to go back over TEN TIMES to make this look 'right'. So angry my face turned red like Tinker Bell's and when someone touched me they burned themselves. I can't let the ******* anger out, I CAN'T LET IT SHOW. They will say calm down, and that's unnecessary. They'll never know how angry I am, was, and always will be. It lives inside me, ruining relations and saying things I wouldn't say. I hate it, and it makes me hate me. I wish I would ******* die. I don't want to hurt the ones I love but, that anger inside makes me lash out with harsh words, and a loud voice. So I hurt myself to punish myself. I hate my ******* self, I wish I could turn in on myself until what is impossible happens: I disappear. I want to crush these bones, and scar my skin. Please hit me with your car, and tear me limb from limb. When I beg do me no mercy, and leave me to your dogs. And when I started writing this I thought it would come out as a rage filled rant. Let me tell you something you already know, it came out as a self loathing run on sentence. But like I care, do you know me? No, and do I know you? No, and I really don't care to. **** me, *******. Especially me, because I'm not worth anything. I'm a ******* waster of space. ******* **** me please.  

Really though. All I want is a hug. And I don't want to die, I just feel like I should. I feel like I deserve to for what I've done. And I'm done, with everything, and everyone. I wouldn't mind dying, and I wouldn't mind living. I'm fine with either one. But I'm tired of dealing with all of this. And I wish I could erase everything that I didn't like and start over again. But I know that's not the way it is, and it's certainly not a good way for things to be. So I'm glad that it's not. But if only it could be like that for me.

Cool foggy nights lit by the waxing moon
Chilled glass windows, and cement
Sharp air that pierces your lungs, which you breathe out as warmed clouds of life
Crunchy leaves, and then months later freezing snow beneath your winter boots
Frostbitten nose, and cheeks that are as red as Old Saint Nicks
Harsh jagged wind cutting at your smooth skin
And oh, does it feel so good
The pain of the cold, it's my odd lover
Raw icy toes, and fingers rubbed on by the frigid chill
And oh, my dear how I love it so
The cold nights sliding into bed, and under the covers when the sheets are cold against your flaming skin
Your bare feet on the biting wooden floors
And the frosty wind that pinches your cheeks
I want to inhale in the intense frost and numb the aching thoughts inside
Freeze them, and stay here so they never thaw
I would be fine with that, killing off my wretched soul with cold
And I would love to freeze my body right down to the bone
Because only then, would I be cold

Some days are hopelessly lost, and the other some are radiantly brilliant. Those lost days sometimes take the majority, but more often than not they are few and far between. Hopeless days fall heavy on our shoulders, and make it difficult to find the shining light of the brilliant days. We take on those days with a stubborn face, and the waves bombard us as they crash into us with empty gravity. We don't take these days as plain sailing, they cause the ships of our minds to toss and sink gracelessly.

Oh, but those days. The effortlessly beautiful days, where you glide through and nothing catches on you. We live for those days, we are alive because of those days. Shimmering happiness floating on the waves that crash against you. The days where you are the beach and the water massages you.  And the sun sparkles down onto you, gently warming you further.

And finally, the days that no one ever told you about. The days that no one ever talks about, because you only want to leave them behind and bury them under the ocean floor. The days where you stagger out of your comfortable tomb of a bed, and stumble into the bathroom. You stare and glare at your mask of a face in the mirror, and begin your day with a sigh. You slowly slide your feet across the floor, scuffling into the darkness. Settling into this feeling of no feeling with a lethargic fall.

I want you all to myself. I know I can't have that. But that doesn't mean that when you talk about these girls it doesn't create a storm inside me. I wish I knew the inside of you so I could see just how much you love me. You say it's a lot, but I don't believe. Because with the pain in my heart I couldn't be loved as much as you say. And I wish I wouldn't feel this way because I want to be happy and I want to be okay. But when you take my emotions for a roller coaster ride I find it hard to try. I want all of you, inside and to out. And all of your imperfections and mistakes. To be mine. Because I love you even when I feel like I don't and even when I probably shouldn't
                                      
                                                                ­               If this is love
                                                            ­         I don't want it anymore.

I'm not here tonight, I've left my body.
Someone else is here.
Making me do all these horrible things.
Why can't I just say goodbye?
I am not me, and I don't think I'll ever be.
When I look into the mirror all I see are the scars, and my empty eyes.
I don't see me, I'm gone.
I just want the war inside to cease, I want my arguing subconscious to hush.
I want every word to be unsaid, and every sound unheard.
Then I'd be me, then I'd be innocent.
Then I'd be peaceful and joyful.
But that isn't going to happen and I need to be strong.
I need to **** in the air, even if it is sharp like the blades.
Even if it hurts, even if I don't want the oxygen to seep into my blood and keep my heart beating.
I need to go on, because I will get better.
And the me I once was is inside somewhere, buried deep under all the skin and bones.
Behind all the dark thoughts, and behind my teary eyes.
Soon I will be me, and soon I'll look into your eyes.
And then I believe that everything will be well.
I will not be fighting a war within myself any longer.
I will not be bleeding blood, or burning skin.
I am not that, and I will leave it behind.
I will leave all the pitch black thoughts, defacing words, and ripping skin behind me.
And I will bury it 10 feet under, and plant the prettiest flowers over it.
So maybe they will become something better someday.
Maybe they will find their way back to me unchanged, but that's okay.
Because I'm strong and I will fight them harder, and bury them deeper.
And maybe even hurt them like they hurt me, but you know what they say.
Hurting doesn't really take the hurt away.

Today I did it another time.

(Blood stained tissues and rubbing alcohol.)

I'm in too deep, I've been too deep.
I didn't say goodbye, I won't.
I am not strong enough to dig out.
I'm gonna stay here and sink.

(I tell myself all these things and I believe each and every one. )

My hips are red and again I wish it was my wrists.
I say goodbye to you my love, to say hello to the blade.

(I've cracked, I'm done. )

Red flows more than breath does.
Each and every night I let it go.
Can't say goodbye, its a part of me now.

(And nobody understands, so I can't explain the pain.)

I don't know why I haven't left yet, I hate it here.
I wish I was gone more every time I lie, but why haven't I gone?
I could of that day..but I didn't and I regret it.
Maybe today will be that day that I say goodbye one more time.
Don't forget I love you.
Goodbye.

(And today, I haven't been more dead. Tomorrow I'll be the least I've ever been)

Old cuts old scars, say goodbye
Old cuts, and old scars. Say goodbye to old cuts and old scars.
Lined up on my hips are red lines, I'm gonna tell them goodbye.
Don't be disappointed when I give in to temptation, because that dripping red and the sting of the blade is my sweet melody relief.
It's my addiction, my bitter paradise.
A compromise in my mind, I'll do this and eliminate my dis-divine.
I can't stop and I can't go on, my only choice is the blade slicing through my skin and the secret of it.
Am I going to say goodbye? Should I?
Yes, I should. I'm trying to let the sin flow from my veins in red from blue.
This pain dissipates and joins the earth in a revive of life.
Saying goodbye to old cuts, and healing with new scars.