They come in the night
The monsters
Tear down the walls
You built
Destroy
They don't care that you're nice
Or you get all A*s
Or you have friends
Or that you love them
They hurt them anyway
Because your own problems
Are rarely just your own
And that's the worst part

Once upon a yesterday
Things were easier than you'd expect
One thing lead to another
Now you mind is filled with regret
A loop that meant forever
Wasn't broken
But thrown away
Three symbols of love and affection
Walk back and forth, day by day
From a broken marriage
Comes not a broken home
Instead a bitter child
Who resents
What she'll never know

Time is always turning,
The sun in the sky is still burning,
But like everything in life,
The flowers of summer come and go.
Just like the golden leaves of Autumn
Or the crisp white winter snow.
Nothing lasts forever
Sooner or later it will all just go.

Time is always moving
It's a battle we'll always be losing
Life's too short to sit and dwell
On all the things we don't do well
The times are always changing
The summer sun will set again
The clouds will form and bring the rain
But nothing will ever last forever.

Sometimes I imagine that you could use a flat blade knife and separate parts of my body.
Like an anatomical model, an arm in half, a wrist entirely off.
An outmoded coloured wax model. Perhaps, a very old one. A decorated one with human or horse hair, closed eyelids and uncomfortable lips, and like those ancient roman ones, thinning sheens of paint on top.
The blade would slip through neatly, perhaps catching friction as it passes the block of soap texture, and leaves grimy residue on the knife.
You can see the vessels.
They are not clean.
Like my soul there are very nearly translucent scrapes and patches of liquid. Some days the liquid spills out.
Some days I just want to clean out. I want to purge, but I know I will just melt and the mistakes will be just as visible. You will see the marks that look like mouse's claws or pincers where I have pulled apart the skin trying to work out what went wrong. Doing some kind of surgery. Inside tying double sided sticky tape and chips of plastic, driving them in deep and forgetting about them.

When you say those things I can't be big anymore. If I'm tired you make me cry. Salt crisps up my intestines.
You make me imagine what it would be like to plunge a knife into my stomach.
I bet it would be satisfying like the braking of chocolate. Cracking of value bars.
But I have to remember that you are the organs thrown out at the end of the day, sloshing around in the bucket and I deserve to be preserved and anything that had been cried over or crafted is better than a remote controlled car. Stop telling me that it's not.
It's not as if I'm trying to be a petal or a fragment of netting fallen off a ballerina's skirt.
I've chosen to hover above the blades. I am nothing so frivolous. Feeling at home in a web of metal coated in paisley oven gloves. I am safe here. In fact I'm glad that thick haze separates us. You will never be able to find somewhere so tranquil. It makes me happy that there is no possibility that we can meet in the middle. It just makes it easier to keep the space, without the concern of some congealing platelets tethering to a surface which was never there.

I am hurt and confused but I shouldn’t say a word

I hurt you more, I hurt you first

I wasn’t aware, oh but you were

Yet I hurt you more, I hurt you worst

I gave her a face, pretty poise and graced,

I see it some nights, with yours in the way

But have the perfect retort for that, wouldn’t you say?

“How many times was I haunted by your mistake?!”

It’s frustrating when you say this is not what I deserved

When every reaction of yours screams it louder than any words

When every time I trip or fall

I’m reminded you tripped most of all

To forgive you is to forgive me

Can’t have that, can we?

You say I’m changed, yet you can’t say it’s okay

and you should know that’s all I need to hear you say

But that’s not how it works, is it?

It’s only okay when you’re in the right mood to dismiss it

But when I’m desperately clawing for air

and all I’m given is a handful of despair

I forget why I’m staying, it’s useless

Compared to this, death is much less ruthless

People ask me why I cut
People say "Why would you do that?"
I'm too young to be this sad
People don't understand
I cut for me, I cut for pain
Emotional pain makes me sick
It is unbearable and all-consuming
Emotional pain in which I wallow
Physical pain is easier
Physical pain is short term
It allows me to Focus
Focus on the thin red line
The drops of blood pooling
I don't have to think at all
Nothing comes into my brain
Nothing but pain signals
No remembrance of ****
Abandonment and abuse
Cutting is my escape, my salvation
I am full of so many demons
When I cut I bleed them out
Each drop of red is a tear I've cried
Many tears and many red droplets
Physical pain overcomes me
Wraps me up in a ****** up blanket
Cutting is my drug, my escape
I am given the chance to numb
The ache in my heart is released
Through the valleys in my arm
Valleys carved into my flesh
Released through the blood
Pooling on the bathroom floor
A puddle of pain and demons
This is a puddle of me, all the
*****, nasty, unlovable, *******
Then there is a moment of bliss
That moment when I numb
Like right before they put you to sleep
The numb feeling of emptiness
I don't think about the demons
The demons in my head, screaming
They are no longer in my brain
They are in the puddle on the floor
No longer inside of me
Gone for a moment but not forever
Pain always comes back
This is why I cut, to quiet the pain

Chaos from my mind moves to my skin
This time,red drops falling instead of tears
The cold blade dances across my wrists
Leaving long, raised pink bumps
Reminding me of me strengths
And weaknesses
Soon they will be just white scars
More red lines and bumps will take their place
Marking my body like tattoos
Like battle scars from the war in my mind
My mind remains blurred
The cutting doesn't help
But only numbs the pain
Some ask "Why cut?"
I  say "Why live
everyday a struggle
another day
another scar"