I might be a little broken
but I still am a person
and I am one of a kind
I have these cuts and scars
but I know I’m gonna get far
And you can’t say I’m worthless or pathetic
because I know I’m not and you’re just a person
a person just like me with problems of your own
we’re all a little broken right down to the bone
and we’re all a little scarred in more ways than one
but we’re all people, and all just ones

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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..

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.

The cuts are red as she goes to bed and when she woke they were all healed up.
But sadly her insides are as black as they were before she slept.
And her skin as white as a ghost's, she is almost invisible to herself.
She smiles and laughs as if it's okay, but she's worse everyday.
Each and everyday harder than the last, but "it's okay" she says.
"Nothing."
"I'm fine."
I'm falling apart Is what she thinks as the tears are shed.

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.

"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.

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'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.

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.

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 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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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 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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

and there was nothing I wanted to share anyway

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

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

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

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

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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