i write out my feelings.
are they true? are the words i put out true?

hell, i don’t even know.


reading your poems about her, god

*******.


****.

yknow?


i don’t know if i can do this.


i’ve gotten better, honestly,



but now the scent of food makes me gag,


the sight of you makes me warm.


and she glares, making me stop.



i want to hug you.

to call you mine.


BUT GOD I ALWAYS KEEP QUIET FOR TOO LONG AND I DONT EVEN KNOW IF THE THINGS YOU TELL ME ARE TRUE BECAUSE IM SURE YOU WOULDNT TELL MY **** BUT-

but-

but it’s okay.


i’m a bit jealous, is all.


oh well.



at least your happy with the person who took you away

"Where is my child?
Where have you taken her?"
She lays her head across the floor
the carpet oddly cold.
She calls out for help
from the only person
who sees and
understands her completely.
But she herself, the seer,
is crying in a pain of her own

And the woman realized that
the Seer
Was  her reflection

The smell of a cigarette
The glow of the ashes
The flick of such dust
Fluttering down
You saw me standing
still as a tree
standing beneath the
parking lot's lamp.
Panting.
Sobbing.
Illuminated by gold.
You saw the scar.
My scar.
How did it get there?
I see you thinking.
But I hate that.
"You know it's impolite to stare."

why, why, why
don't i need a reason to cry?
i don't wanna choke on air
or have to breathe in my cries
i'll just sob,
and choke,
and cry,
and more.
a desperate, stupid need for help.

happy cry, happy cry, happy cry
maybe i'll just sob my "happiness" out
happy cry, happy cry, happy cry
i'll comfort myself without making a sound

Millions of thoughts, running through my head
Countless tears, these eyes have shed,
Lingering regret hunting my dream,
Taunting nightmares, can you hear my scream?

Millions of words that I want to say
But this mouth of mine, still chooses to shut up
Closing my doors, because no one will stay
Hoping, and waiting, I wish this side of mine would just stop.

Hi
I am Anne
I am a girl
I am 18 years old
I am really depressed

But... I also am..

The girl with hair that constantly changes

The girl with scars on her arms and wounds on her heart

The girl with her own will

The girl who never takes a single thing for granted

The girl who used to starve herself

The girl with thoughts darker than the night

The girl with so much love to give

I am a lot

But the only thing that matters

Is what I am to you