I like to believe
My pride is rooted
In insecurity
Because somehow
That's better?
However some
Nagging notion
Makes me wonder if
My self-demeaning
My self-sabotaging
My self-harming
Is all simply to hide
From myself and
From the world
The arrogance
Consuming my mind

Some people like being *******.
Being ******* scarred me.
Being ******* unable to stop the torture, was disturbing.
Some people will never understand this torture.

He said it was the goodbye to our relationship.
This was a goodbye no one wants.
People thought it was consensual with the marks on my neck.
They were wrong this wasn't consensual, it took my self esteem.

The ties were broken after that night.
When the ties were broken, he didn't like that.
He made different media accounts under different names to see me.
I'm proud to say I survived the ties but not many do.

That is what you are,
So evil and unkind;
There is a reason you are alone,
And its not difficult to find.

There is a reason why you must bleed,
These people are right about you,
As disgusting burden on society,
It would be much better off without you.

You are ignorant and stupid,
Why would anyone want to know you?
There is a reason you are so alone,
Nobody is at fault, except you.

You upset everyone,
You're spiteful and unkind,
You dont understand their pain,
And the pain you have left behind.

There's nobody to help you,
For you are beyond all help,
There is no cure for such evil,
Money will be spent on someone else.

You deserve to be alone,
You deserve no family,
No friends, nobody to trust,
Thats how its meant to be.

Nobody wants you in this World,
The damage you've done is enough,
You were never wanted in the first place,
But you were born, with no love.

For why would anyone love you?
You're a failure in every way,
You've let down an entire society,
They will hate you till your dying day.

And you deserved it all,
You selfish, manipulative liar,
Nobody wants to see your face,
Nobody wants you to be here.

Keep cutting deeper with the blade,
Use something heavier for the bruises,
Because until you are dead,
Punishment is the only way to abuse you.

Stay away from others,
You will only do them harm,
Plus they will just never understand,
They are not from where you are from.

Just for writing this
You will be scorned,
An attention seeking waste of space,
Dont say you weren't warned.

Nobody wants you here,
You damage everyone,
Please just damage yourself,
Leave everyone else alone.

You dont belong,
Keep bleeding for them,
Shame you dont have enough pills,
To put it to an end.

I hate you **

I provided you the key to my destruction when I told you that I loved you.
Too late I saw your betrayal with my eyes so blinded to the beauty of your "truths".
Knowingly and willfully betrayal ever your intended game and love the Trojan Horse you used.
With malice and intent you brought me down whilst whispering lies of love still to my heart.
Not contented or completed in the devastation you continued to yet say you loved me too.
Honey coated blindness to the actions and the deeds of your true purpose.
A greater evil I have never known and am sure no greater could exist.
With intent to destroy an other's heart as if it were a game... no greater evil have I known... than for you to knowingly use my love for you... as the weapon for my annihilation.

Red drops onto the spotless counter
Bright crimson against the pale white
A singular red circle in a sky of while
Another drop falls and joins it
Smaller than the first
Then another and another

She looks in the mirror
Maskera streaked like smoke trails against her skin
Pain in her eyes
Her lips quiver and she bows her head
Clear drops falls among the red on the counter

The tears continue to fall as she looks up again
She wipes the tears from her face
As her hand moves over the skin a trail of red appears
Her eyes focus on the smear of blood
She once again wipes her face and she knows what she must do

She takes a breath and looks to her arms
The small cuts seem like whispers in the night
She opens up a makeup compact case
Inside a dozen pieces of broken glass
Just as broken as her

She picks up a curved one
Originally from a glass she broke in the kitchen
About two months ago
Just another incident in a never ending stream
It looks like ice as she sets it against the white counter top

She lines each piece up in a line
Almost like a small army
Preparing for battle
However the war rages inside her
And the end is nowhere in sight

She looks over them
Some duller, older than others
She mulls over them as she makes a decision
And sets a few to the front lines
Looking up once again she takes a breath

Her tears have halted
And her breath stills
All waiting, anticipating
She chooses one
The glass feels so familiar in her fingers

The tip sits pressed against her skin
She winces as she pushes harder
And finally rips through
Skin tears from skin
As the glass glides through her flesh
Like a marathon runner crossing the finish line

The red arises from the depths
It pours over the edges of skin and slides down her wrists
It drips to the counter with ferocity
And soon the drops of red become puddles.

She chooses another recruit
This time a flat piece of glass from a window she dropped
Again it tears into her as she holds her breath
Blood flows and spills against the white
And the tears begin to flow again

Looking down she sees her wrists
Blood covered
They feel so weak
She begins to sob as she lets them fall to her sides
The pain of existence right there on her hands

She sits against the wall until she finds the strength to stand again
The blood on her writs gone from a running stream
To a dark paste
Blood on the counter a aftermath
Dried and black

She picks up a piece of clean glass
Presses it in the open wound and slides it through
The dried blood quickly overcome with a fresh spring or crimson
Once again the drops fall along with her tears

She turns the water on in the sink
It flows clear as day
Clear as the glass sitting beside it
She runs her writs under the cool stream
And winces as the water hits her wounds

The blood runs away and the gaping gashes are all that's left
She grabs a towel and puts it under the water
It dances across the counter as it smears the blood
She wipes it again and again until it all disappears
She runs her arms again under the water cleansing them

Lastly she looks to the glass
Bloodied soldiers only partially lined up
Several scattered around the counter
Like bodies on a battlefield

She scoops them up and washes each one
One by one
She sets the sterile glass back into the makeup compact case
Laying them to rest
Until they will be called to duty again

She looks down at the clear white counter
And turns off the water
She tosses the towel and looks up
A shell of a human being is reflected in the mirror
She wipes her tears again and leaves

Off to fall into the inky blackness of sleep
Hoping and wishing
That if it be even remotely possible
She could wish herself to death
And never wake up

****** wrists-
Are better than ***,
At least then-
I feel something.

a stranger of my own house

coming home feels like another never ending torture

another heavy breath

telling myself, it will be okay

telling myself, don’t be tired

Please tell those with broken bone

i am jealous

Please tell those that bleed

i am jealous

Because i feel like every bone in my body has broken

But my body wont be bleeding

I cant cry

I cant scream in pain

Please tell those with broken bone

I am jealous

Please tell those that bleed

I am jealous

Because people will rush to help them

Because people can see their pain

A smiling face with big appetite

No one can tell i almost **** myself last night

Devils of saintly virtues?
Or a saint of sin?
Who is evil or good?
Who bestowed such titles?

A boisterous ***** baron?
Ordained by dour dukes?
Spilled blood to pave a road?
Does your honor sunder and erode?

Was it virtuous to shove innocents?
To put them under lock and key?
Saintly, to make them fear?
Courage, to turn a blind eye?

Is it a sin to feed the starving enemy?
A devil to help a dying foreigner breath?
Bereave their suffering?
To feel guilt when malnourished prisoners beg for feed?

What makes you so noble?
Foible flags, and an adorable mantra?
A little training makes it right?
Maybe you know it does not,

Paving roads with bones and blood?
Did you join to fire a gun?
To retrieve bullets from inside of someone?
To stand for your flag and defend?

Does a medal wash away those sins?
All forgiven because you won?
Bombs dropped and humanity undone,
Another chapter in the book of justification,

Titled, ‘War is Hell’
The history of death, peace unsung,
Souls seized, leaders appeased,
From rot, money and disease,

Waiting for battle under south side trees,
What makes you better then them?
Education? A uniform?
Signing your life away to conform?

What if your not as noble as you seem?
Noble intentions in a hellish scene,
In total might, what if neither is right?
A hired killer of a higher power,

Atrocities in the name of swell intentions,
Killing for Lord Benton, or General Jenkins,
Does what you read make you mad?
Or sad?

Will war ravished ruffians take pity?
Is it wrong if they slaughter and **** your life?
Everyone in it?
Will your god founded, blessed flag save you?

Maybe they are right,
After all,
You did it to them first,
Suddenly it’s wrong? No chalking up to war is hell?

Maybe you’re lost,
Maybe notches on your gun makes you proud of past,
Maybe feel lied to, in a cloud,
Or maybe you’re a demonic psychopath,

The history of Saints is usually tattered with sin,
Passing volatile judgements upon men,
Devils usually do what they are asked,
Whether or not it should come to pass,

After all,
It was conflict that caused Edens fall,
Do you care if you’re right or wrong?
You, mercenary of the flag?

When is wrong, right?
Right, wrong?
Call you hero and sing your song,
Will history see it like you?


After all,
Stonewall made innocent civilians fall,
Regarded hero,
Instructed by a drunk,

Who are you?
What makes you so great?
Why are you right?
Why are you wrong?

In the end, I don’t care if you think,
Or ask yourself stated questions,
That’s not my biz,
Simply put...
It is what it is..