I've never shaken with fury before.

And you will never know how I hurt.

And then I realized,
you don't even care about me anymore.

April21April21April21April21*
You remember, Sky,
the day you wanted to **** yourself?

I hated myself for what happened to us.
I always blamed myself.
I reminded myself daily that I was the reason you're gone.

But I'm starting to question;
maybe it wasn't me after all.

I believe everything happens for a reason.
Maybe we weren't meant to be together any longer,
maybe it wasn't meant to be.

If there's a god out there they would know what's right.
They would've not torn us apart.

She did not complete me, (simply because I complete myself),
but she gave me an outlet.
She gave me a light on the other side.
I would look at the smile on her face and think, "all of this is worth it."

But she's gone.
She's smiling at another,
drowning herself in love.
I'm okay with that.
I'm happy for her.
She deserves to be happy.

But
I just need one answer.

Why wasn't she happy with me?

I USE TO WAKE UP WITH BLOODSTAINED SHEETS AND A SMILE ON MY FACE BECAUSE I REMEMBER THINKING "YOU DID WELL" BUT I GUESS I'VE REALIZED THERE'S MORE I SHOULD BE PROUD OF THAN SELF DESTRUCTION.

if you don't care,
i don't care.

He's beautiful,
but he's not mine to touch.

It's true when they say
curiosity killed the cat,
because the curiosity of my father
almost killed me.

I had never felt that before,
the feeling of complete euphoria.
I wasn't myself;
I wasn't in my own body.

2:30 AM and we snuck out,
went around the pond,
and the smoke poured into my lungs.

I was trembling,
a smile plastered across my face.
I laughed at every joke,
zoned out for a few seconds.

Eyes bloodshot,
pupils dilated.
Hungry as ****,
and happier than I've ever been.

I realized I was in love;
all I could think about was him.

I fell asleep,
best sleep of my life I might add.

I think I've found
a new escape.

i feel unwanted and numb.

There's a burning in my chest,
and it doesn't seem to fade.
This sense of loss and confusion,
it damages my brain.
My soul yearns for the path,
but nothing seems to appear.
I remember when I didn't feel like this.
Oh God,
how I wish it would disappear.

I could
seriously love you.

I hate everything that we've become.

i don't know how i will heal this time

I died looking in her eyes.

I always choke on my words before I spit them out,
dragging out my sentences,
trying to make sense of what I have to say.

Maybe they don't even give a **** anyway.

At this point,
I have no idea what I'm saying.
My fingers are typing things that I never have time to think about.

Maybe it's not me who's crazy,
I can't be,
can I?

No,
I don't think I'm crazy.

But when I write,
something takes over me.
I suddenly have time to think.

Surely this doesn't just happen to me.
Others must feel the same.
Right?

Why,
I'm supposed to be happy.

I am though,
aren't I?

Is it just the pills?
Who the **** knows,
or really cares anyway.

My fingers are taking place of my head,
I honestly don't know what I'm rambling about.
But in reality,
who the **** cares?

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.

and you make me feel so vulnerable.

Who is she?

--You know, the girl that showed you love. The girl that touched you in ways hands couldn't. The girl who showed you that you have a life to live.

Who?

--The girl with the brown eyes and brown hair. The one with the smile that could end wars.

I have no idea who you're talking about.

--I can't believe you've forgotten.

Tell me about her.

--She was the one who showed you the light. She showed you that you were worth nothing but all the love in the world. She had these brown eyes. They were like tiny universes. Her hair, oh, it was wavy like the water at the beach. Oh, and she had this voice that even the Muses envied. Her smile…it was etched in your mind for so long, how have you forgotten?

She seems so lovely. I don't know I could have possibly forgotten her.

--Oh, how lovely she was. Do you want to know how you forgot her?

Yes, of course.

--She was erased, just like that, over one stupid thing. You lost her oh so long ago, but now she's gone. She ceases to exist..as far as you're concerned.

Is there anyway to get her back?
       
--Probably not.

I can't write about love.
I simply don't know how.
Sad things are my specialty.
I just wish I could form words about you.

What's happened to me?

I actually care about what people think.
I care about popularity.
I want the football players to like me.

I've lost sight as to what's true.
I'm not myself anymore.

Who am I?

i can't catch my breath

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

I blame myself
for what you do to
yourself.

the more i cry for help,
the more stupid i feel.

I wish I could cut myself
without feeling bad afterwards.

IM TRYING TO SLEEP BUT ALL I CAN THINK OF IS THAT TIME YOU SAID "I LOVE YOU" AND I GOT TINGLES IN MY FINGERTIPS AND A POUNDING IN MY CHEST BUT NOW THAT TINGLE IS GONE AND THAT POUNDING IS NO MORE.

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

My eyelids are heavy,
and my lips are ******.
It must be a sign I have a broken heart.

It was NOT necessary for those ignorant ******* to protest today.
There was NO need for those graphic signs and mean words.
There were ******* CHILDREN seeing those signs.

People need to get their heads out of their ******* ***** and realize what women do does NOT ******* effect them.
They "****" a ******* FETUS.
A fetus who CAN'T feel anything
because their nerves haven't developed yet.
A fetus is just a bunch of CELLS.

I hate the ignorant part of the human race who think they have ******* control over others.
Get your head out of your ******* *** and realize you are a piece of trash.

It takes energy to love,
and energy cannot be created nor destroyed.
Does it mean that my love for you has always been and always will be?

Elegant her mind was,
the beauties of
death,
blood,
sadness.

Elegant her skin was,
scarred,
tarnished.

Elegant her thoughts were,
pills,
blade,
noose,
drown.

Elegant she was,
or every one thought she was.

Her real elegance didn't show through her every day life,
only to those who wanted to hear,
and those that wanted to hear were
the demons.

Her elegance, in the end
is what destroyed her,
leaving the truth behind,
she wasn't so elegant after all.

My mother hides things from me,
a lot of things,
but I can't be mad, I guess.

I do it, too.

She's the love of my life.
From the top of her head,
to the bottoms of her feet.

She's the love of my life,
but not in the way you would think.

She's the love of my life.
She's the light of my day,
and the dark of my night.

She's the love of my life.
She's the water of the tide
and the stars in the sky.

She's the love of my life.
That won't ever change.
I love her with all of my head,
and she knows that.

Two years later, and I'm back where I started.

You're gone,
and I'm not sure how to cope.

I can't cut,
nor can I drink the pain away.

I just sit here trying to erase what is left of you.

I don’t even know myself anymore. I look myself in the mirror and I see this girl who isn’t me. That girl I see in the mirror..her eyes look dead. They look empty. She’s crying, tears falling from her dull blue eyes; her eyes used to be so radient and happy. Her wrists, shredded up, along with her thighs. What happened? A few months ago there were no scars or cuts. She made herself into a hideous monster. Oh I’m not done yet. This girl, her words cut through people like a razor; just like the ones she used, she has no sympathy. She’s lost, panicking, you can see her anxiety rising, ripping away at her second by second. In the mirror you see her family, they look upset; she did that to them. They’re yelling, threatening. Her anxiety builds up more. Her family leaves, letting her cry alone. She can’t quite say anything right, and ends up taking it out on her beloved friends. She can’t take it anymore. She wants out, but she can’t leave. This girl in the mirror isn’t me, but she won’t leave. This girl creeps up on me, and she scares me.

The moon in the dusk looked at me and whispered everything will be okay.
She told me that time goes on and she will always come back up to comfort me during night.
She looks over me and makes sure I'm well.
She gives me light in my dark mind,
and brightens the dark sky.
"When you're feeling down, come and find me," she said with a grin.
And I replied, "I'll be back again."

I'm drunk and god, I miss you.

She's been there since
the 4th grade.
The years where there were no scars
on my arm,
when our smiles shone through the stars,
where out friendship was new with years to come.

I don't know how it is
that I can love someone so much without actually being
in love with her.

She is my best friend.

She's always been there,
even when it was tough.
We worked things out,
it's a new start.

She showed me how to be happy,
how to cry because I'm the one who made the
hugest impact on her,
how to love someone unconditionally,
without having a relationship.

She is the sun that my lightens my day,
and the stars that lighten my night.

She is the intelligence that I feed off of
on those nights.

That day I told her I had harmed,
oh how she hated herself for not being there.
And I hated myself for the pain I had caused my better half.

That night that we opened and looked out my window,
let the cold breeze hit our faces.
Listened to music.
We did not speak a word.  

When she hates herself it pains me,
because she has no idea what she really is.
She is perfect to me.

She is my best friend,
a rare one at that.

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.

We're all ****** on life,
getting high as the day goes by.

He's on the ground bleeding to death.
She's leaning over the toilet, making herself sick.
That ten year old is crying themselves to sleep.
The "gay" boy just shot himself in the head.
The teens are taking shots, killing the pain with a drag of a joint.

We never stop to see each other's pain and agony.
We never stop to see the anguish everyone's in.

While people have scars and cuts along their body,
tears down their face,
they haven't eaten in three days,
they're taking pills,
the assumption is we're all happy.

Think again.