The world doesn't like sad girls.
It likes sad boys that the happy girls make smile.
It likes how the happy girls make the sad boys fall in love with their every word.
It likes when the boy who is no longer sad kisses the girl who made him so.
But then the sad girls are still sad,
and no one cares.
she stared of into the morning sky,
watching the delicate birds fly.
they were so peaceful in the atmosphere,
left her wishing that she wasn't here.
blood stained her scarred wrists,
her hands forming clenched fists.
her knuckles were bruised and harshly beaten,
and all day, she'd hardly eaten.
there were tears in her eyes,
those as blue as the skies.
her hollow chest held a heart that hurt,
a heart that had been thoroughly stomped in the dirt.
there were anchors in her lungs,
that she'd had since she was young.
as she stared into the midnight skies,
there were tears in her light blue eyes.
the birds flew past the window sills,
and that's when she took one too many pills.
Forgive the scars on my legs, arms and knees,
Mistake them for the joys of childhood and take them as nothing but scratches.
Forget the blood on my hands,
Mistake it for my fall that must have happened because I was clumsy, not dizzy.
Forgive my uncovered bones,
Mistake them for my genes and not the food I never eat.
Forget the skeletons I hide,
Mistake them for a trick of the light that hardly shines into my room through my old curtains.
Forgive my tired eyes,
Mistake the sleeplessness for eagerness of the next day, keeping my thoughts alive throughout the night.
I shall remind you of this every day.
But I beg of you, my friend.
Notice of my fresh scars,
Don't take them as nothing.
Remember the new blood,
Don't leave me to help myself up.
Notice my ever present ribs,
Don't let me push away my plate again.
Remember those dirty skeletons,
Don't allow me to hide what hurts me so terribly.
Notice my teary, tired eyes,
Don't smile and pretend you don't notice how much I've cried last night.
I know you're scared, my friend.
Of saying the wrong thing.
But anything is better than nothing, my friend.
I need someone to help me.
He brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss against your knuckles.
His crown that he wore always seemed so stable in his head, his blonde hair looking as if it were made of the same gold of his castle.
His smile seemed kind, but you could see the wicked in his emerald eyes.
He had been cast in a different role from what his black heart truly desired.
He tried his best to hide it through his velvet coats and admirable wealth, but you knew better than to believe in this fake fairytale.
You pulled your hand away, and ran from him as fast as you could.
Because you knew,
He may be a Prince, but he sure as hell isn't Charming.
i've never felt more alone then through the days that my cheeks are streaked with tears.
i've never felt colder than the days that the rain bats against my windows.
i've never felt more poisoned then the day i first heard you laugh.
i've never felt as much pain as i did the day you left me.
and i've never felt more serene than the day i died
today I spoke once again of my problems though another soul.
someone I loved told me they knew people who suffered from their thoughts, from the reality projected to them in their minds.
I held my hand subconsciously over my scars and smiled sadly.
"That's terrible" I said "It's so hard when you feel empty, and the chemicals that make up 'happy' aren't there"
"I couldn't imagine it" they said.
I held back my tears.
'I feel it through each day', I wanted to say.
But I didn't.
I changed the subject.
And hurt myself again.