"Go away," I said
Daring to hope that for once the
Overconfident ******* would listen
To what I said.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
I had no idea about the upcoming days
Of pain.

"Pretty pretty girl," he said
As I looked up into his evil eyes
With their horrifying red rims.
I scream again.
He curses, hits me.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
I change tactics.
Plead.
My baby needs me, please let me go.

Even after he left, I laid still.
He left me seeking vengeance.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
Every tear had been released.
Inviting anger, I swear to myself
That if he ever comes close to me,
He must die.

He approaches.
Unleashing my anger upon him
I never thought that I could hurt someone
I once cared so much about
As I did to him that day.
No. **** him.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
Groaning, he pleaded for my help.
Everyday I regret what I caused.
Death.

I just want to let it all go. I'm done playing it safe. Free falling sounds like my next move. Cutting, vomiting, suicide. It's all becoming one, no boundaries from one to the next.
I hear others laughing and only cringe. Jealousy overtakes me. I can't remember what truly laughing feels like, what a real smile on my lips tastes like. What is happiness? Even just being okay sounds good at this point. Jealousy shoots through my veins as I think about the girls who don't take the blade to their skin, the girls who don't feel the need to starve themselves or ***** after eating, the girls who don't feel that death is their only option.
Being to this point where I don't care anymore is kind of nice, though. No more tears, no more emotions. Just the cold blade against my exposed skin.
People say I am getting out of hand. That's not true. It's just I don't care anymore. This world and the things inside of it mean nothing to me. By summer, I will be skinny. But keeping my grades up gets harder each week. I don't know how much longer I can hold up, staying in this world. The pain is so great.
But I keep forgetting that I don't care. I'm done here. Who needs life anyway? Who needs me? Death is the final option. My final option.

I always wondered about storms
if walking through the mud ever did anything besides ***** up my shoes
and make me think of what it's like to breathe without fear of being left behind
my dad always swore he loved me but I only remember him by bar stools and beer bottles
the sound of rain against windshields on the way to his house
was it my fault I've never seen him on my birthday?
the thing about storms is they never have mercy
they don't care about the one that swallowed you yesterday
and it rained for twenty days straight but I still wasn't clean

They tell you that when you know, you know.
I don't know how I know when I know.
I still don't know.

The biggest tragedy in this life is when
extraordinary things become ordinary

Not because their sparkle dulls
or because they refuse to shine

But because we have taken
their beauty for granted

It is a little death to be sure