I'm so much like the boy who cried wolf.
Just like him,
it all began as a joke.
As I repeated my musings,
Over and over,
My words meant so much less to those who heard them.
All so suddenly,
Those words came crashing down on me.
The letters drew tears that stained my cheeks,
The syllables burnt in my throat.
All the times I asked for the world to kill me,
It was killing me in so many ways.
So now I'm staring into the golden eyes of my very own wolf,
And I realise that,
Like the lies of the boy,
I was the one who hurt myself.
When I was little, I found myself seeing my blood a lot.
I would slip, or fall, or graze my skin.
It was always the times I was having the most fun.
Scars came over time, and each one of them meant that I had happy memories before they occurred.
Now when I see my blood,
I'm no longer okay with it.
I have new scars, and with them,
I can only remember that I used to have happy memories before they occurred.
When I first met you there was a garden growing in my mind,
But it was never beautiful.
Filled with thorns from the dead roses I had been given by someone I used to love,
My thoughts hurt me every day.
My head was bleeding on the inside,
The outside willing to collapse at any moment.
My tears watered the thorns,
Helping them to grow stronger, and sharper.
Then you came along one day,
And said hello.
My heart skipped a beat as I stared into your bright green eyes,
Admiring your sunkissed skin.
Freckles scattered across your nose,
reaching your softly blushed cheeks.
I bit my lip,
Saying hello back.
Now I know you,
That garden is no longer dangerous.
That garden that wanted to be beautiful,
You cleared the thorns,
And replaced them with daisies.
Now every time I close my eyes,
I don't have to fear myself.
I looked at the stars like I do every night,
and I cried.
because this time,
that some of them are dead.
and I realised
just how envious I was,
that I was not as beautiful as a star,
was still there.
He screamed into the night, believing no one was listening.
He cried out of fright, his eyes dark and glistening.
His thin wrists continued to bleed, razor sharp cuts made clear with crimson.
His heart begs to feed, far from the sorrow he lives on.
His mind told him to never wait, no one would search for him.
But his mind knew not of fate, and there was a light in the dim.
There stood a girl - willing to fall in love, and there was a boy - about to fall apart.
And then came the tale that all were in awe of, where they shared a broken heart.
there are things that people do that they aren't supposed to.
like holding in a sneeze,
picking at their fingers.
bad habits that are hard to stop, and can be harmful.
it makes me worry that holding in tears for so long is bad for my eyes,
if it makes me see the world in the wrong light,
if it ruins my perspective of the world.
but then I remember that doesn't matter.
my mind ruined the world for me, anyway.