Being hated for no apparent reason. (Which happens quite often I must add.)

Not reaching my goals in life.

Giving up.

People getting the wrong impression of me.

Never finding love.

Meeting my ***** donor,
or not meeting him.

Smoking until my lungs are dry.

Drinking until I die.

Guy never loving me.

Never seeing Rach again.

Hiding behind a mask for the rest of my life.

Loving the wrong person.

Never loving at all.

Rejection.

Public speaking.

Razors & open wounds.

Any death but my own.

At the ATL concert Monday night I got to thinking. Every little thing at a concert that happens, the wait, the actual concert, and the memories, they save people, make them happy. I remember the wait for Warped, that’s when my depression was really bad and I was planning to **** myself, knowing that I was going to be there, in that crowd made me want to keep living. After the Sleeping with Sirens concert, I didn’t cut months after that concert. And the complete feeling of euphoria of actually being there in front of the people who were there for you when no one else was. It makes you think, “oh I actually am happy, it isn’t the pills,” or “wow, maybe there is another way I can actually make myself feel better besides cut.” Just knowing how much you mean to the members, you can just tell in their voices how much they care; how comfortable they are with you, how serious they can get, how they carry on each and every single song. Concerts, bands save lives, so if you say they don’t, you have no idea what it feels like to have nothing to live for except music. Music has saved my life, and I have no way to repay those that have made the music, played the shows, and cared for me. There is no way I can repay them for them giving me my life back. Thank you to all of the bands that have done so, thank you.

What is behind the stars in the dark night sky?
Please don't tell me nothing,
because nothing is something.

Oh, and what is deep beneath the ocean which we cannot see?
Are there mermaids or
maybe whole another universe?

Now tell me,
is happiness truly real or is it something spoken in fairytales?

I have an open mind.
I have a sense of magic that children have in themselves.

Just please tell me:
what happens when I die?

I am told that I should love my body,
and I should not be ashamed.
BUT the white, conservative men tell me otherwise, making me feel nothing but shame.

When did it become okay for a male's education to be more important than a woman's rights?

When did it become okay to sexualize a woman just because her shirt does not cover her rear end?

This is apparent in the things my teachers have told me.
"Your shirt must be fingertip length when wearing yoga pants," she said.
"Why?"
"Because the males that sit in the class might be too destracted to listen to my lecture."

We are treated like *** toys.
Us girls are used for nothing more than a mans pleasure, so they imply.

This is MY body, and no one else's.
I may do what I please,
and no one should have a problem with it.

I refuse to be sexualized and treated like we are living in the 1920s.
But I must conform and live in fear of my consequences.

**** culture is real,
and school's are promoting it.

I don't have a father,
can I at least have a mother?

Don't hate someone just because they hate you.

2. ALWAYS be the bigger person.

3. Don't quickly judge someone.

4. You may lose people, but you will gain ones who are better.

5. Everything changes at one point.

6. Try to see opinions from both sides.

7. There are two sides to every story.

8. Some people aren't going to like you, and that's okay.

9. Speak up in class, no one is going to laugh at you.

10. Don't be shy around the person you like, they're just a person as you are.

11. No one is going to die because you failed that one test.

12. School isn't just about grades.

13. Taking one day off of school won't **** you.

14. If you put negitive thoughts out in the universe, chances are, fate won't be on your side.

15. Don't push yourself to the point of a panic attack.

16. You will always love the person you fell in love with, and you need to learn to cope.

17. Just because you're posting about them, it doesn't mean they will message you.

18. Wear a dress to school, who cares if people judge you.

19. Look on the bright side of things in every situation.

20. Always be youself, and don't change for anyone.

stop crying.
dont eat.
forget about it.
stop ******* crying.
you dont need food.
hes never going to like you.
stop crying.
she hates you.
stop crying
stop thinking about food.
dont bathe.
stop crying.
dont get up.
no school work.
he's better than you.
stop crying.
she takes pity on you.

stop.
crying.

I was worried it would come back.
--the self hatred I mean.

Deep down I knew it would.

I don't know if it's a bad week,
or I'm going into that hole again.

I purged my soul out,
and I felt happy.

I had a dream I cut to my vein,
and I woke up content.

Now,
someone might get worried reading this,
don't.

It might just have been a horrible week,
but I guess we will soon find out.

WHEN I HEARD ABOUT HIM MY STOMACH DROPPED AND MY TEARS STARTED TO FLOW AND I CLENCHED MY STOMACH AND REALIZED THAT LAST YEAR THAT COULD'VE BEEN ME.

Will it happen again?

I'm tired,
and she's beautiful.

I don't care anymore,
or maybe it's that I care way too much.
If I didn't care I wouldn't get so angry over meaningless things.
           --and by meaningless…I mean meaningful things.
Why is it that I say I don't care?
           --when in actuality I care a lot.
           --I care about that girl,
             and the girl,
             and the other girl.

But who is it I want the most to care about?

That's a funny question, because I don't care about any of them.
            --But wait, I care.
No I don't I care about nothing.
            --I care about too many things.

If it is that I care about nothing,
nothing is something.
And sometimes something is everything…..Right?

If I cared I would't constantly say, "I don't care."
         --Yes I would.


















I do care.

Should've killed myself when I had the chance.

I hate everything that we've become.

I haven't met you,
yet I feel as if though
I have touched your heart
in ways
no one else has.

When I almost downed that bottle of pills,
I didn't stop and think that in the future I would have someone as great as you.

I've found a home
in a new pair of
eyes.

"I need love!" I scream from the top of my lungs,
but he never hears me.
"I want you!" I whisper right behind his back,
but he doesn't turn around.
"Can I get to know you?" I question him as he turns the corner,
not even looking for who was talking.
"You're killing me!" I cry as he listens to the teacher lectures.
"Do you even know who I am?" I mumble as I realize he doesn't even know my name.
"I don't even know you." I say under my breath as he leans to his friend.
"Why am I doing this to myself?" I think as the bell rings and he leaves my view.

I finally realized I needed to open up my eyes,
and now I see everything.

Would it be too much to ask for
if I asked just to drop dead?
Would it be selfish for me to say
"I don't want to live anymore?"
Would it be bad if I took a knife to my
throat and ended it all?
Would anyone even be sad
at all?

New scar,
new memory,
new story.

Who am I even writing for anymore?
Certainly not myself.

If I still feel like this tomorrow:













**** me.

The thoughts are clawing at the insides of my thighs,
waiting on that sweet release.
My wrist tries to whisper sweet nothings,
again, waiting for a release.
My head,
it's tangled with images that want to be real.
My nose yearns for that metal smell.
That smell that lingers from the sweat of my fingers
to the silver blade.
My ears wanting to hear the shredding of skin.
And the red,
the red blood that flows in my veins,
from underneath my meaningless skin.
I think,
maybe the ****** cuts that could dance upon my skin,
make the metallic smell linger in the air,
having my guts spilling out,
would be worth it.
But I think again,
and it's not.

I've started to not care about school.
Copying homework left and right.
Cheating on tests
every
****
time.

And I can't bring myself to care.

I can still taste you
I can still hear your moans ringing in my ears
I can still feel your body heat in my side

I can hear the tone of your voice when you told me
"I don't care"

And I hope I am right.

And just like that,
another friend down the drain.
I did nothing to make you hate me,
but it is what it is...

right?

I need her like I need air in my lungs.

It's amazing how
not leaving your bed
for 2 days can take a
toll on you.

I've cried more
times than I can
count.

I've imagined
killing myself.

I've remembered
memories.
Ones that I never
want to forget.
And those that I
torcher myself over.

I've made myself
physically sick,
and I haven't eaten.

I blame you.
I blame us.
I blame you for
what I've become.

I wouldn't have been
caught that night if it weren't for
you.

I was with a boy that
distraced myself from
you.

A boy that I dreamed of
hanging out with.

You.
You ruined it.
You ruined me.
You used me.
You took advantage of me.

You said that I shouldn't
distance myself because
it scares you that I might not
come back.

Be ******* afraid.
I'm not attached at your
hip anymore.
I'm free from your grip.

You gave my friend
a death glare because you
hate him.
You hate him because I'm
friends with him,
and I refuse to talk to you.

You're mad because I
smoked my lungs
out with Dylan.
You didn't even ask if
I was okay after I had
been caught.

Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

I hope you torcher yourself
to the very core
that you lost me.
I hope that it haunts you
that I might not come
back.
I hope that you're
terrified of me hurting
myself.

You live your life,
and I'll live mine.

That day I fell in love with the taste of your lips.

The amount of scars that line my body could never amount to the love I have for you.

You turned me into someone
I never strived
to be.

She knows the feeling.
She knows what it's like to kiss razors.
Little red lines dance across her arm.
Her eyes dream of tomorrow.
I can tell how badly she wants the pain to wear away.
I can tell how scared she is.


Don't worry darling,
I can hear you scream.

And you will never know how I hurt.

Do you remember when you liked me?"
Ha, yeah..
I still can't believe you did.
Yeah..it happens often.

that's a lie
i loved you
i loved you more than anything in this ****** world
it pains me, still, after 5 months
its gotten a whole lot easier being around you
but theres always this feeling, heavily holding my heart down
a feeling you will never find out

You okay? You haven't said anything in a few minutes.
*Yeah, I'm fine. Just got lost in thought.

Freshman year was
a time of change.
New school,
new faces,
new obsticles,
new feelings.

Freshman year was
6th hour math,
where I met you.

Freshman year was
a meeting,
a greeting,
a new start.

Sophomore year was
full of new feelings,
a new perspective.

Sophomore year was
a broken heart,
a disppointment.

Sophomore year was
experimentation,
a new feeling of love.

Sophomore year was
warm in your arms,
a safe haven with you.

Junior year is
scary,
a complete change.

Junior year is
mistakes made,
and loss of a loved one.

Junior year is
learning,
and forgiveness.

Junior year is
unsafe without you,
and a death sentence.

Senior year will be
terrifying,
choices that have to he made.

Senior year will be
breaking away from you,
taking the next step in our lives.



Our years together have and always will be
the best years
of my life.

He was in my dreams again,
some place I never wished him to be.

I woke up in a cold sweat,
tears in my eyes.

I've never met him,
but I'm terrified.

I tell myself on a daily basis that I love myself,
how I look.

I've started to hate myself as the days go on.
My hair.
My eyes.
My cheeks.
My eyebrows.
My flawed skin.
My big hips.
My huge thighs.
My fat stomach.

I keep telling myself,
"you're gorgeous!!"

I can't do it.
I hate myself.

I'm ugly as can be.
Pictures show it.

My face is too oily,
my lips are too dry.

When will I become pretty?
I fear it to be never.

The hatred is back,
and I'm hating it.

I swore
you were an
engravement on my heart.

I loved you from
a distance,
short of a stop.

You left,
without a
note left in my
pocket.

I have torn
ideas of what we
were and what
have always been.

A flower
that will never
bloom again.

Your touches
are burns on my skin.

A sting that will
not fade.


You were an engravement
that was never on my
heart,
only a memory
on my
skin.

And I knew I couldn't be right.

it was always you,
and has always been you.

Generations from now,
I will be a pile of bones,
a name that use to be,
a mind that use to think,
a mouth that use to speak.
I will be a story that people will think was a personality.
I will be a poet that no one speaks of,
a song that no one sings,
a picture that will burn.

I will be nothing but bones and a memory.

I am infatuated with your being.

How did I
ever love
you?