I have a wave of nostalgia over me.
I'm finally remembering.

When we first became friends. You walked into english class and sat right next to me.

The first time I slept at your house, and you convinced me to wear a dress, but I didn't know how to put it on. You helped me in with no problem.

And that time I spent the night at your house. We read in bed together, and fell asleep. I woke up really thirsty and went to your kitchen to get some water, and you walked in very confused. We both laughed and went back to bed.

All those nights I spent in your arms.

How I loved when you would write poems about me,
and how I waited for them.

I pretended to not like you, because liking Zoe was so much easier.

I remember thinking I couldn't kiss you, because I didn't want to treat you the way your step-brother did.

When you bought me the infinity ring (which I still wear) and the ring that says "I refuse to sink."

When my wrist was filled with ****** cuts, you pulled me into the bathroom and kissed them. I held back tears.

I'm remembering,
but you're forgetting.

I blame myself
for what you do to
yourself.

You don't seem real anymore.

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.

And I hope I am right.

If I still feel like this tomorrow:













**** me.

Now that I'm happy
the silence doesn't bring twisted thoughts
and
pencil sharpeners are used for things other than just the blade
and
the pills are nothing more than a friend
and
food is for eating                               h
and now,                                     g
now there's beauty.            i
There's beauty up     h
and down     l
                              o
                                       w.
those bad times were for just a moment,
but now there's a lifetime of happiness.

youre everywhere
your smell is clouding my room
stained into my pillows
youre in my favorite song
and our song especially
my skin burns where you touched me
i can still feel your arms around me
i can taste you in my mouth
i can feel your stare melting into my flesh
and your moans ringing in my ears

am i everywhere
what do you think
are you ok
how did you feel about it
did it feel good
would you do it again
were u trembling
was your heart beating faster than the speed of light
will you leave me
did i **** up
was it my fault
how bad did you want it
do you feel bad
were you using me
was it actual feelings
will it happen again
would you let it happen again

when did this happen

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.

It was normal
My head on your chest
and your arms clutching mine
your smell staining my pillows and
how you lay so close to me

It was normal
You touching me
in ways I loved so much
me touching you in ways
that made u groan

It was normal

It's not normal that we
hold each other so close
and your breath on my neck
you sleeping in ny arms
and your head buried in my neck

It's not normal
that your other friends think you're
prudish and unlike you for me to be that close
and that you are nothing like how you are
with them around me

It's not normal
that you are the single person I feel
most comfortable with in this world
and you are the first person that has made me
feel so alive

It's not normal,
it never was normal,
but it's so right.

He left his heart in my chest,
and that is the only thing I have left.

i got caught
trying to rid
the thought of
you.

what everyone doesn't know is that
I've been doing this on purpose.

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?

I did what they wanted.

The thought of her is like a boomerang,
it always comes back.

I am convinced
I will never love
again.

im having a crisis,
and you're probably just fine.

You wrote a poem over a year ago, and posted it a few weeks after I was going to **** myself.
You said "I feel like life wouldn't go on without her here."

Well, thinking about it,
I'm not here.

We're in separate worlds,
and you're doing just fine.

See?
If I would've taken all those pills and never woken up,
you would be living, breathing, and moving on.

I'm nothing anymore.

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.

it's going to work out
it's going to work out
it's going to work out*

and nothing has hurt more.

It's terrifying how one flick of the wrist,
with the razor in between fingers,
doesn't hurt one bit.
No sting,
no burn,
just relief.

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 am infatuated with your being.

It's a blur.
All a blur.
You.
Me.
Us.
What happened?
I'm so messed up.
I can't breathe.
Why would you?
How could you?
Do I mean nothing?
Have I always meant nothing?
Why now?

I can't go back.

No matter how hard I try;
how hard I ******* try.

My father will never leave my life.

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.

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

you may have lost her,
but you got me back.

No words were said,
but I knew.

I knew when you held my hand
as we walked through the crowd of people.

I knew when you layed your head
on my shoulder and swayed to the music.

I knew when I almost fell,
you sat me down and cooled me off.

I knew when she couldn't move,
you calmed me down.

If that's not love,
I don't know what is.

You will stain my skin
with that memory
that I will never be able to forget.

A pain that will remind me of
you for the rest of my life.

And this is the only
way you actually
wanted to hurt me.

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.

touching you today was the hardest thing ive had to do in years,
just because i know im not yours to ever touch.

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

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.

one day i will be able
to listen to
our
song without hearing
you
in every word.

Oh,
how you walked by me,
gave me that smile,
held my hand.

You made me choke on my words,
you made me forget how to breath.
I couldn't swallow.

And when you kissed me,
I swear I floated in midair.
And that night you cuddled into the curves of my back,
I smiled.

Nothing quite makes sense when you're by my side,
you ******* alive.

Day by day you remind me how to
breathe,
swallow,
and forget.

And for that,
you are mine.

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

I'm drunk and god, I miss you.

I died looking in her eyes.

the calm
after the storm.

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 miss those late nights
where we would cuddle all night.
And I mostly just miss you,
**** I miss you.
I'm sad
and you're happy with another.

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?

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 simply cannot speak to you.
Maybe it's not so simple, actually.
It's the thought of your smell.
I'm trying not to recall your smile.
I might have to ****** myself so I don't ponder over those things.
Your voice.
Your eyes.
My thoughts are cramped,
killing me by the second.
Tick, tock.
Tick, tock.
Soon I'll be dead.

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.

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.

he gave me a look that set
a fire in my heart.
he turned the lights off,
and my heart raced faster.
closer
and
closer he scooted,
but did nothing.
why didnt he kiss me?

I TRY TO COVER UP THE SADNESS WITH CONCERTS AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I RUN OUT OF CONCERTS TO GO TO?