Without me
My parents would have money,
My friends would be happy,
My siblings would be closer,
And the world would still go on.

"She's so full of life" my teacher said.
So why do I wish I was dead.
"She's extremely bold"
My neighbor says, so why is my heart so cold.
"Her eyes are so pure" my mother says but I'm not quite sure.
I've seen evil and instead of fighting it, I became it.

I asked when you will love me
you answered
"tomorrow"
Then I remembered
tomorrow never comes

I was just starting to get over you
When you jumped back into my life.
I tried to escape but no matter where I go you are everywhere.
It's like I'm trapped in a maze that only leads to you.

ITS GOTTEN TO THE POINT THAT WHEN I LEAVE FOR COLLEGE I WON'T HAVE EMOTIONAL GOODBYES OR GOODBYE PARTIES WITH MY FRIENDS BECAUSE THERE WILL BE NO ONE THERE TO MISS ME. I PUSH AWAY ANYONE WHO COULD POSSIBLY CARE ABOUT ME BECAUSE I'M A SELFISH *****.

WE ARE THE KIDS YOUR PARENTS WARNED YOU ABOUT. THE ONES WITH THE DEAD EYES AND THE SHATTERED SOULS. WE HAVE OUR MUSIC AND NOTHING ELSE. WE ARE THE GHOSTS THAT HAUNT YOUR DREAMS AND THE DEMONS LIVING IN YOUR HEAD.

It's not about self respect.
I could be walking around naked
And still respect myself as much as when I'm fully dressed.
So what is it about? It is about distractions?
If so why do we have to cover our bodies while boys walk around with their pants around their knees?
Leggings being banned for being a distraction?
I'm not gonna apologize for wearing pants if boys don't apologize for objectifying me.
I'm not a dog, don't whistle at me.
And don't slap my *** as I walk down the halls.
I'm not your *** toy.
So don't make me apologize for being a girl when these boys won't apologize for sexualizing me.

I used to do it to remind myself I was alive.
But now I can't stop.
I use to do it to feel something instead of being numb all the time.
But now I can't stop.
I used to do it to remind myself that I was still able to feel and that I wasn't just an empty shell.
But now I can't stop.
I used to do it and want to stop.
But now I don't want to.

I sometimes wonder
Why I don't write my thoughts down
But then I worry someone might read them
And realize how truly broken I am

My soul is forever trapped within the memories we shared

I believe in hell
I just call it reality

You almost killed yourself tonight.







I'm so glad you didn't

I'm  not asking for much,
not for money,
or for work.
I'm not in need on twenty four hour attention,
or for you to buy me lots of things.
All i'm asking for is a text back,
or maybe even to see each other.
All I want is to feel *wanted