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rachel Dec 2013
fragment**
When she's awake at 3:30 in the morning out in the dark of night,
Standing on the balcony alone,
Don't touch her.
Her body is riddled with anxiety and could burst at any moment.
Her heart is land mine,
Waiting to explode at any minute.

So,
When she's crying in bed at 12 in the afternoon,
don't comfort her,
Because her tears are like razors,
And could slash your throat in seconds.
Her skin is infected with hatred,
And it could ****.

When she's feeling lonely,
Don't accompany her,
Because she's vicious,
And her venom is waiting to suffocate you.
She's a snake in disguise,
Waiting to attack.
might edit this some more, still a work in progress
rachel Dec 2013
I distinctly remember the white walls and the scratchy bed sheets that lay on top of those matts that gymnasts used. I remember these things because the walls and the sheets were riddled with names and dates of people who had been there before me, slept in that bed, craved their name into that wall. I remember their voices too, the ones that were compassionate but not really caring at all, just doing their job.
It was April 1st, 2013, to be completely exact, when they brought me to the hospital. I'd broken down crying earlier that day and I finally caved and told them I wanted to die. They picked me up off the floor and drove me to that white walled prison. I'll never forget the way my mother told the recprtionist, "our daughter is suicidal and needs to be admitted," and the way the receptionists face stayed constant and showed no emotion. She slapped a hospital bracelet on my wrist and sent me to the waiting room. I sat there for a few hours.
Finally, they came for me.
We walked into the emergency room and they put me in a secluded room with absolutely nothing I'm it. Police officers and nurse came in to collect my clothing and other belongings I'd had with me, which they then placed in a locker.
I sat alone for more hours.
It was night by the time I was evaluated. I'll never forget the monotone voice of the women evaluating me.
"You're suicidal?"
"Yes..."
"Have you ever been admitted to a hospital before?"
"No"
"Well, were going to admit you for a little while, and keep an eye on you."
Her voice was emotionless. She was emotionless.
They brought me upstairs to the adolescent behavioral unit at 11:00 PM, and checked me over a few times, took my vitals, and sent me to a room with a sleeping ******* one bed, and scratchy bed sheets on a second empty one. I cried myself to sleep that night.
When I woke up they took more vitals and blood tests and evaluated me again. The new doctor was the same as the nurse, absolutely monotone. It was as if these nurses and doctors didn't feel anything, because they worked with children trying to take their lives.
At the time of my hospitalization, I didn't believe that happiness was a choice, and that I would actually get better. To be completely honest, I thought I'd die just as sad as I'd been for the past two years. Although I thought this, the doctor continued to tell me after each session, "being happy is your choice, you can choose whether you want to live like this forever, or if you want to be happy."
Now that I'm out of the hospital, and in recovery, those words mean more to me than they'd ever meant before. Happiness truly is a choice to some people, and it's a choice between being sad or being happy. I'm aware that being sad is a natural emotion, but not depressed, depression was a trap. It took me a week in the hospital, plus 9 months, to finally understand that my happiness was a choice.
I needed to write something.
This year in my English class, were studying personal narratives, and it got me thinking. I needed to write about that day, about my most life changing experience.
rachel Nov 2013
10W
Even the deepest blue
Couldn't make me stop loving you
rachel Nov 2013
You set fire to your yard
Because you said it was fun
And you placed razor blades in books you hated
Because you said it kept them away from you
You put tea bags in the coffee ***
Because you said it made better sadness than energy
And you poured your tears into a bath tub
Because you said it held them better than your eyes did
You pick the weeds instead of flowers
Because you said they were just as beautiful and deserved the appreciation
Instead of picking the petals, you braided the stems
Because you didn't want to lose hope that he loves you not
You would lay on the floor with a duvet around you
Because the bed made you sad
And you would dance in your underwear
Because little black dresses were too revealing
You did these things
Because you said they made you feel better
rachel Nov 2013
the light seeped through the window and i lay awake with my head on your chest
i watched as the sun rose and cast shadows along the structure of your face
i'd run my fingers along the edge of your cheek bone
and listen as you mumbled sweet nothings in your sleep

sometimes i wondered what secrets you kept in the hallows of your skull
so i'd play with your hair and attempt to sneak my way into the life you'd locked away
sometimes i wondered if those secrets were the reason you became so cynical
and if those secrets were the reason you no longer talked to your father

the sun rose higher and played tricks on your arms
the arms you'd covered in purple and blue bruises
some days i wanted to reach into your skin and pull those blood vessels closed

eventually you'd wake and see me staring again
staring at your questionable eyes
blue, green, brown?
a combination of all three

and the sun would be high in the sky shinning through our window
creating mirages all over the lavender room that matched the spots on your skin
you'd smile and pull me close because your only reaction was to love
love someone else, but not yourself
rachel Nov 2013
I love you so -

*"dont lie"
rachel Nov 2013
Even the deepest blue couldn't make you feel as though it's all okay
Strangers arms grasping at your empty bones
Filling the gaps in your soul
Cars racing past the window on dark cold nights
Leaving you silent on grey balconies
The city is busy and you're alone
Smoking your cigarette
Hoping that chemicals will be better than crying
Blasting music and dancing in your skinniest little dress because at least the mirror loves you
Ripping up photos of forgotten memories
Memories that broke you and shattered your heart like a glass piggy bank
Wrapping lonely duvets around your  broken silhouette
Your body curls and your heart races and your senses spike because being alone is horrifying without someone by your side
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