Rattling of a pill bottle fill the silence
And I don't realize how desperately
I long for anything but the silence
Until it's gone.

What is wrong with me?
I'm holding on to how things used to be
Because letting go has never been my thing
But I think it's time,
And I'm scared
Letting go means finding more to fill that,
Silence
And I'm not sure I can.
I'm not sure I can...
What is wrong with me?

Barely a week clean
And I'm already craving
When can I stop this **** self hatred,
And learn to love myself?
As opposed to harming myself.
What is wrong with me?

Why do I always jump to feelings of anger, sadness, and irritability?
Why do I long for physical pain so intensely?
Why do my thoughts of self loathing present so vividly?
What is wrong with me?

I'm a tragedy, really.
A piece of artwork, pulled apart at the seams
A kind heart that's torn up, scratched and bleeding
But you could never tell, for looks are deceiving
What is wrong with me?

I have help.
I know people care.
But the last person also told me they'd always be there,
And where the **** are they now, definitely not here
And I know not everyone's the same,
But it's one of my biggest fears
What is wrong with me?

I long for the day
Tears spill from my eyes
My heart's ripped into pieces, and I'm feeling betrayed
But the last thing I wanna do is reach for the blade
Because I'll be stronger than that.

But letting go has never been my thing.
So I'm stuck holding on to how I used to think


*What the hell is wrong with me?

It didn’t really happen. I was awkward,
a sloppy crocheting of clumsy hands.
I was scared of my body; or maybe,
I was scared of her body. Foreign,
but bright from the veil of curtains
slighting a late spring light. I kissed
like a maniac, but when it came down
to the business of pleasure, I could not
make a transaction. She later told me
I could have gone on longer
than my half-a-minute slow grind before
I chickened out. Even now, after
my fifth major relationship and plenty
of romping and dancing atop mattresses
mine and not mine, I feel my first ****
is how I approach love. Tentative,
too contemplative, and none-so-bold.
Perhaps it is because I learned early,
to hate myself, this body that is still
so new to me: twenty-five years owned
and I still don’t know how to love myself.
I just hope that one day, I will be that light
streaming into the room, touching everything
around it, feeling with tender warmth
the goodness of what soon hinders its path
casting shadows behind what I come to kiss.

The day of my funeral, I felt guilty and watched as my parents cried.
The day of my funeral, I laughed as I watched my clueless three year old brother fool around with my clueless baby cousins.
The day of my funeral, a watched how dismal the clouds were in the sky.
The day of my funeral, I sighed as my body was carried to the gravesite.
The day of my funeral, I got one last glimpse of the scar on my neck from the noose that killed me.

Take away the pain
Take away the strain
Just what would remain

I am held together with the struggle
I am held together because of all I juggle

I am nothing but agony
I am nothing but depravity
I am nothing but blasphemy

Question's on my mind weigh
If you could take that away
Do it right here today

Would I cease to exist
Would I still be here in the midst
Would I be missed

For I am nothing but self loathing, agony, and pain
If it could magically be taken away, would anything remain

Hell is known by everyone
Whether you believe in it or not
It's always a compare and contrast
And even though it's just a simple thought
The ideal is there
That if we do something terrible
Like ******, lie or sin in any way
That it leaves something memorable
Like a stain on white cloth
The sin clouds our mind
Consuming our thoughts and bodies
Until theres not much left to find
Except for devastation and agony
Like living isn't hard enough
Without thinking that every mistake
Requires more than just being tough
Where we have to be forgiven
By Grace, by God, and yet others still look down
On us for simple plunders
Like it was our choice to take the frown
It's not our fault we were blinded
It's not our fault that we couldn't think clearly
Can you blame us for being angry?
Everythings shouting at us so severely
Why aren't we better?
Why aren't we stronger?
Why aren't we smarter?
Why can't we just hold out longer?
Everyone thinks depression is so **** easy
"Oh, just think happier thoughts, it'll be fine!"
Tell that to a man so consumed with self loathing
That he'd rather sit alone and cry than dine
With those he loves. It's atrocious
How easily we all fall into the simple glove
That is how useless we are in the grand scheme of things
That we don't deserve love
Or anything at all, really.
And one day everyone we know will walk away
Show that they truly hate us and always have
And finally just ran out of reasons to stay
It pains me.
It pains me every single night
To sit here and think that maybe
I'll be worth more one day, and shed a light
To all those who are hurt or hurting
But how can I save someone
If I can't even save myself?
I'm afraid one day I'll be done.
Finished, over.
But. Even as these thoughts plague me
It's not over today. No way, no how
And I'll keep going, until one day, I see.

it's eating me away
clawing at my walls and corridors i built up to keep my feelings safe
i'll be their last meal for the night
and when dawn comes i'll be remains,
blood and bones ready to ignite

n.j.

" I do not fear the night time,
no, my fear is much beyond that,
I fear the darkness within my soul -
the unrecognisable face in the mirror. "

I thought
that my light
stopped you from wanting to bleed
But maybe
all along
I was scorching your mind with the heat
I thought
that by now
I could fix all the pieces I broke
But maybe
hearts don't fix
And the shards are now slitting your throat

And you know what's funny?

After men in shining armor blew past me
leaving nothing but a lesson to be learned
you'd think my selfish eyes would perhaps see
that my light does not shine
it burns