Influenced.
Having no self control.
Being weak.
Being a follower.


Influential.
Being the cause.
The reason.
The motivator.

Waste.
Once you're influenced, you become hooked. Your life becomes a game. A game to find more to fill your craving. To get your fix. You'd do ANYTHING to be the winner- every single time you play it.

Failure.
Not coming to the realization quick enough.
Not seeing all the debt you're causing.
The pain you're causing others-what you're doing to them.


Ignoring.
Not paying any mind to the people who are trying to help you- open your eyes and help you.
Pretending everything is okay.
Thinking you're right when you know **** well you're not.


Realization.
Unfortunately, by the time you get to this stage- it might be too late.
Not only did you lose the ones you love who loved you- you lost yourself, who you used to be.

You always told me that I was "born original" and not to "die a copy".
When are you going to start taking your own advice?..

I guess you never knew the real me.
By your careless attitude it's clear to see, you underestimated my ability to move on and stay strong because I'm so much better without you.

So now I'm moving on because now I see that you were never meant for me. There's a road ahead of me fill of endless possibilities and I'm choosing the one without you because that's what's best for me.

Don't say you're sorry, don't shed any tears there's no room for forgiveness here. You had your chance and you blew it. I loved you with everything in me, but then I outgrew it when you proved to me who you truly are.
Pretending to care won't get you far.

Go down the hall
Make a left
Go down that flight of stairs.
Alright, good.
Now you see that dark hallway on your left?
Good, go down it and take the first left.
You're now in a room. You see that black door directly in front of you?
Open it.
Now go down that flight of stairs and behind them, you'll see a lockbox.
That is where my secrets are. That's where they will stay until I trust you enough to let you in.
Alright now go back up the stairs, close the closet door, leave the room you were in- dont forget to close that door too. Go back through the same dark hallway BUT WAIT! Don't go up the stairs- make a right and go down the hallway that's brightly lit. I want you to walk up the stairs that you see as well, then open the door. What do you see? It's beautiful isn't it?
Don't you see?!
The dark hallway where you keep your secrets is the depth of your soul. You have to go "down the dark hallways and down the stairs" to dig deep within your soul where your secrets are. On your way to your soul you make all lefts there. Only because when you head to the bright hallway and go up the stair case you're always turning right. You're going to something beautiful and peaceful- and that's the RIGHT thing to do when the time is RIGHT.
Moral of the story is, it's okay to not open up to certain people. You will find the RIGHT one to open up to.

I have scars. Everywhere.
I have stretch marks, a scar from when I went to the aquarium for my eighth birthday. A scar inside my nose from my surgery. Scars on my heart from seeing my loved ones - the ones who only truly cared about me pass on.  Mental scars from the torment and the hate I've endured from people who I have cared deeply about, and would have done anything for. My parents, some friends. Yet, if you take a look at my right arm, both legs and under my breast- you'll see self inflicted scars. Ones I have put there. Scars that are there because people have made me hate myself. They didn't physically cut me, but cut my heart with a sharp knife each time they called me a fat useless *****, told me I should've died, that my life was meaningless and no one would ever love me. When they called me over dramatic about how I felt. When they told me I was ugly, that I wasn't equipped to make it in the real world. At one point an attention seeking *****.
Cutting myself was in a way to show them on the outside of me- what they were doing to my person on the inside of me- my soul.  For me, it became an outlet , an escape, a way to begin to count all the times I've been hurt by people's harsh words .
Looking back at them, ashamed of how ugly they make me look- I then remember that the people who caused me the pain weren't beautiful. They were cruel , ugly , demeaning monsters. I was already more beautiful with they are because I've made it out alive. Their negative attitudes and self hate for themselves are slowly killing them. Making them miserable. I will never be like them. That's the only thing that keeps me moving. Knowing I will always be better than who they are and how they treated the people the supposedly care about.