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Nov 2013 · 463
Secrets
It's always a secret
The way people hide there pain.
It's not always for anyone to know they hate reminding themselves that they just put hell all over there body full of wounds and scars and marks in your precious skin. It's all a secret, it's for no one to know so you never feel judged. It's an escape that makes you happy because nothing else can so how can a person come out and share to the world that cutting is for attention, or killing yourself is for attention, but if it's for attention then why do people try so hard to keep it a secret?
Nov 2013 · 480
I wonder
I wonder if things would be different if you understood me better.
If you knew all the things I think about and all the things I tell myself.
How would you feel if I told you all that I've been through and what I've done to myself.
I wonder what would happen if everyone knew all I've done. Where would I be in life if I gave up where would my family be?
I wonder what life would be like if I didn't **** up so much, what would my life be like if I made better choices, or took a brighter path.
I wonder what it would be like to be happy.
Maybe one day ill feel that way.
Nov 2013 · 456
Just Another Nothing
There's a wall around your heart being torn down by all the names being thrown out, all the pieces layed there hopeless and cold. Colder than the thought of being alone, why me? It's just an act of happiness being vibes throughout, but in reality just an act of sadness freezing in an artic where you tense up and you fall through a waterfall and drowned in your own tears, you live a life where no one around chooses to hear, you make a sound, screaming in silence, through your eyes, they water, they twinkle, they lie, they search for a glimpse of light but there is no hope. There never will be why keep trying?  The voices call out. Why are you here? You don't belong they say louder.  Throw yourself down like everyone else does to you because your just another person in this over populated world and one person doesn't make a difference, people say they care and love you but there's nothing they feel for you when your around or the thought of you is never actually thought of. People could care less if your six feet under the ground, your just anther nothing. They all say "nothing"
Nov 2013 · 1.6k
A broken life
A broken life
was the time I fell on the ground in tears,
laying on the floor for so many years.
Trying to gain a little strength,
Trying to gain a little happiness,
A little hope, and a little love.
Maybe happiness isn't for me.
But my broken life showed me giving a smile to those who don't have one is a life.
Giving someone what you don't have is kindness,
i try so much more than the rest to give people the best.
A broken life was when I was in the classroom screaming in silence when no one could hear a thing,
all the way from the top of the mountain just another lonely human being lying above the sea trying to escape the insanity.
I'm lonely and im sad and I just wanted you to see, that a broken life shouldn't be.
Nov 2013 · 915
Do you understand?
Do you understand?
Do you understand what it's like to be like me?
Do you understand what it's like to feel alone,
To cry yourself to sleep at night and watch the stars shine while you wish you were as beautiful as the light everyone else is?
Do you understand what I wish I was compared to everyone else.
I wish I was beautiful the way she is.
Because I may be beautiful to you but to everyone else I am not.
I am defiantly not to myself.
Why can't I be good enough for you? Or to the world. Why can't I be good enough for me?
Do you really understand what it's like to have friends who say their there but aren't?
Or do you understand what it's like to have people stare at your arms and look at you in discust?
That you may not be human but a dead soul trying to run out? Maybe your dead on the outside but fighting on the inside.
Maybe I'm the only one.
But one day you will all understand.
Maybe when I'm six feet under the ground and you don't hear nothing but silence, and birds whistle in the morning mist.
But I showed death on my wrist.

— The End —