Watch out so carefully and so closely listen
See how the blood pours see how it glistens
I may look perfect I may appear smart
Never can you see the pain held in my heart

Listen Listen
Watch how it glistens
Never let hope in
You'll find it missin'

Every step I take I fall down more
Leaves my skin looking so fully torn

Take It Take It
I just can't take it
Maybe if I'm careful I can manage to fake it

Hide the pain behind every smile
Never let them know how you can feel

Watch as I draw out the knife from the kitchen
Pay close attention see if anyone can listen
Allow it to flow and let it's beauty glisten
Wonder if they'll ever know that I am missin'

Never know how much I am hurtin'
Can you still think that I am perfect?

SELF-HELP TIPS:**

chip your tooth on the toilet. find your goldfish’s grave and dance on it. that guy in the trench coat at the party didn’t know anything, but let your paranoia balloon you into a parody of yourself, let your limbs hum off the bone. lie to other people about smoking ****. place an excise on weakness: a tearing for every tear. actually, don’t do that. think about your fish going down the drain. a body in orbit, descending, some tide in your stomach rising. don’t do that either. wear a bracelet of crescent dents. sink your chipped tooth into things often. key trench-coat’s car. bite his headlight. remember your arms? they should be back in your skin by now. now, admittedly, doesn’t mean much. dig up your goldfish or the approximate decay and place it back in the bowl you never cleaned. this looks like continuing as usual but isn’t.

My blood is made of the words you've said,
and the things you've done to me.
I keep cutting to release the memories,
but you won't come out, no mater how deep I go.


(d.d.b)

Opposite to belief,
Recovery is not relief,
For when I no longer wanted the toothy blade
To laugh across my skin,
Not even a pinch,
Not even a pin,
I realized that hope had drained,
Like liquor down the sink.

in sticky drops
ink runs down my
paper skin
blood-flowers grew
as I wrote by the
windowsill

a gloomy Sunday
more tainted verse
up and down
there was a stinging
as I wrote
and a drenched earth
peered through
the foggy windowsill

wind caught the
curtain
petrichor rests on my
tongue
as rusted pain
sat atop the windowsill

what if i keep my nails long to curve them into my skin
and what if i strangle myself at night?

does it matter if i dream that i'm a smoker
if it made my mother sad
if i bruise my legs, if i pinch and tear myself apart

i pick scabs to watch the skin grow back
right before my eyes

each time i
traced over a vein
a blush-pink stain
blooming

like every blemish
kissed in a dull light

it’s as if
everything you’ve ever
touched now had a line
going right
through it

lines
that only i could
see

it’s as if everything
we were became
meaningless

like crinkled petals
on a windowsill

like
every vein
i’ve longed to kiss
goodbye

drying up inside

dying of thirst
in a cracked vase

and
before the incision is
made there

between dizzy spells
and tears

i only hope
red roses grow

and run

far
far away

from here

It's an hour after school.
The halls are empty.
The school sighs and shakes his head.
"I wish I could help more."
"Just not enough evidence."
The school says "please,
Come to us if you need help."
"I'm being bullied" the teens cry.
"You said ask for help"
"Here look, my wrists are bleeding."
"You don't hear what they say?"
"I know you do."
The school sighs and shakes his head.
"Just not enough evidence."
Next day.
Breaking news.
'Teenager kills herself due to bullying.'
"This is a tragedy."
"Please, I encourage you."
"Come to us if you need help."
A teenager comes to the school.
The school sighs and shakes his head.
"Just not enough evidence."

Are we destined to do this forever?
A cat and mouse game of
'Come to us.'
'Sorry not enough evidence.'
The scars up and down my arms,
The rising suicide attempts associated with bullying,
Isn't proof enough?
The attendance drops,
The friend loss.
Doesn't speak for itself?
Teens with tear stained eyes and
'Scratched by my cat' arms.
Making friends with counselors.
Because their office is a safe house.
Safe from the wars of popularity and
"I'm cool, you're not."
Who gets to decide when all of
This.
Actually get counted
As evidence.
I certainly hope it's not you.
Because if it is you.
You're killing us all.

Excuse me while I cry myself to sleep at night.
Having dreams of happiness this I will never find.
Worlds come to life under a blanket of night.
A tragic reality I will never reach.
Excuse me while I apologize for living,
Because I don't feel as if I have a right
To breathe the same air as you.
Slow shaky breaths are all I get.
Excuse me while I turn everything I touch
To ruins.
Gifted with the wrong Midas touch.
Excuse me while I write these words
Knowing that I will be the only one to read them.
Beating my head against a wall for all the ways I
Said I was okay, when I wasn't.
Excuse me while I silently **** myself
Because I'm scared of going back to the
Hospital and speaking up. Not
Because of what people would say but,
Because I can't bear to see that
Look in your eyes again.
The look of wasted money.
Excuse me while I waste my life writing
Poems that will change nothing.
Powerful words that impact you
Only as far as to shake your head and say,
"That's true, something should be done."
Excuse me while I listen to your advice that should fix
Me but only shreds me open more.
Excuse me while I do nothing and everything
Wrong.
Excuse me while I **** you off
With my general existence because you
Can't see what's wrong with me.
Excuse me while I do the best that I can.
Excuse me while I let your words rule my life
And rip my self esteem to pieces.
Excuse me while I shatter my dreams
Of wearing a sleeveless dress with a razor.
Excuse me while I implode on my thoughts,
Shoving them down because of the simple
Fact that I don't want to bother you.
Excuse me?
No. *****.
Excuse yourself.

I haven't relapsed in months,
but tonight I am in danger.
The dreaded need is in me,
it's burning like a forest fire across my wrist.
I don't want to, but parts of me do.

I want to rip my skin open and that is so terrifying


(d.d.b.)