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Syreena Phelps Aug 2014
I can't remember the day when everything wasn't stressful.
I can't remember the day when a smile didn't have to be fake.
I can't remember the day when the stars were shared with a loved one.
I can't remember the day when I didn't have to hide from my problems because they were too painful to face.
I can't remember the day when I was happy.
I can't remember the day that I felt proud of doing something special.

I can't remember doing something special..  for this generation is now about survival. The day didn't use to be like this.

I can't remember the day.
Syreena Phelps Aug 2014
She slit open her wrist,
clenched her fist,
waited for it to go away,
the painful words they'd say.

Tears rolling down as the blood drips to the floor,
in the empty room knowing she was alone forever more.
Hoping the pain would wash away,
but this kind of pain doesn't heal in one day.

Sliding down the wall of her room,
as the blood came rushing from her open wound.
Opening her mouth to let out a cry,
for all she wanted to do was die.

The painful words, and her mental condition,
made life feel like a dreadful mission.
She had to work hard all of her life,
to find her self at skin with a knife.

Now her thought was only suicide,
to die before she even became a bride.
How young she was did not matter,
to the ones who led her down this latter.

She was once a happy girl,
whose smile was a pure as a pearl.
But teen years came rushing through,
as it always does, trying to destroy you.

She sat in the corner and cut another four,
for she could not take this anymore.
She quickly decided that this is it,
she was done with life and all of it's ****.

As she held the knife to herself,
her brother came in and screamed for help.
Her parents rushed in and took her blade,
and quickly ran to her the first aid.

Her father yelled, then called 9-1-1
and before she knew it, hell begun.
The ambulance came and took her away,
saving her to make her live another day.

Once she got all sewed up,
she closed her eyes to see her mind was corrupt.
She realized that she was stuck,
stuck in a world where no one gave a ****.

After she went home a few weeks later,
the pain that was caused got much greater.
They said they'd help and make it better,
but it got worse, she said in her letter.
The ending pretty much means she killed herself anyways. Thank you *bows*
Syreena Phelps Aug 2014
Where are the angels...*
          *when the devil strikes?
Syreena Phelps Aug 2014
Life* is full of secrets.

Is it that impossible to see?

Full of mystery in front of you.

Of all you can see, you aren't seeing the interpretive.

Lies deceive you, behind every hidden door.
I've seen things that would make you **** yourself.
  Jul 2014 Syreena Phelps
bukowski
and I know
I said I’d be better
and I would
do more,
but honestly,
everything is
falling apart
and I have no
motivation
to catch the
broken pieces;
I don’t have
the patience
to tend to the cuts
on my hands
after fumbling
with shards
of my broken
bones
and I’m
losing pieces of
my mind
every single
day;
I’m so scared;
nothing makes sense
anymore
and I don’t even
want to be here
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