As the moon hides itself in a black cloud, a suffering soul is screaming out loud.

Death of night oh, death of night
take me with you, let wrong be right.

Bring me pain, almighty pain
and let me never be the same.

its much easier with a knife to end ones life,
a broken glass to be sure that you wont last,
a poison for me just to be gone
since im alone and with no one

We are all diferent people with different though
But in point of our lifes
We all suffer through staff that makes us strong, make us equals

Once boyish hair lost its flight
In toussling winds
One cricket leg after another
Found its way to an armchair
To hide in cigar smoke.

Brown eyes seem dull in an oak room
No shine on the chandalier, no
Varnish left to scrub
For you are a curious one who
Found more than your fingers could stand up to,
Trembler.

Move with the beckon of the sunlight
Dancing the dance that keeps you free from shadow
But hold your head with anvils
Not as heavy as memory
Or as straw hats, poorly fitting.

I find it hard to know you,
Land owning pity
But it's something like noble
To try.

The sky brightens,
Clouds disperse,
The sun shines,
Then the it stops the sun dips behind a dark cloud,
The land covered in darkness,
There is one who shines,
Standing for all to see carrying the light with them,
Casting back the shadows of dispare,
And revealing the life that can be.

All we have to do is jump.
Take a chance,
Take the leap at a better life,
Take the chance no matter the consequences.

There is always a lighter brighter path you just have to take it.

Often whenever we face troubles or sorrows we think that only our pain is greater and we suffer more than others but literally the fact is that there are people out there who suffer more, whose pain is imaginable so if you have food, clothes and shelter be grateful to God be'coz some don't even have these happiness.

there is relief in
such tragedy,
when you're
not the one
who's
suffering.

..Who’s ana?
Ana…. why, ana is something special.
no one can hear anna or see ana but me.
Anorexia Ana.
My mom say’s i'm ill...and that Ana is the reason i have guilt…
but i still take Ana’s suicide pill.
She say’s skip dinner, you’ll be thinner, skinnier
thinner.
skinnier….how she desired to conspire and let Ana rewire her...but she was too blind to see that shes a liar.
she didnt know, it acquired diet pills and that as her blood spills, she would think she would be like the beverly hill models…
but little did she know, what she was remodeling.
it wasnt enough…
never good enough…
shes had enough… when will she feel like she’s good enough?

skinnier..
thinner…
Ana wants to be the winner, and so far, shes devouring the inner beauty of a teenage girl.
but darling...what she didnt know, that the search for perfection would **** her.
days go by…..she becomes weaker…..people call her a pleasure seeker when they dont see her on the school bleachers.
the teachers worry, and even the preachers in the church of god still nod and pray to god she wont earn a pair of wings too soon.
her scale that whispers “you’re 90...and still not tiny.”
weeks go by, fragile like a antique….while her tiny body i oblique.
shes cold….but shes proud.
shes proud of the gap between her thighs and how her jean size doesnt show her ***** secret that underlies.
she cries, her body shuddering, her hearts fluttering…..shes suffering…
Anna says “keep pushing. if you want to be skinnier, and thinner. slender and bony only.”
the world bowed down thier heads in shame. shame to the family name.
you’ll go to bed hungry tonight,
telling yourself you dont need to eat.
ana’s telling you that you’re fat agian
that you’re imperfect,
from your eyes down to your feet.
you’d think you’d feel beautiful,
because look; you’re finally thin
though your not skinny yet, and you wont be until you see the danger that you are in.
even then it wont be enough,
because beauty is a drug, and addiction is tough…..she refuses to see ana is making her life tough….but she see’s that when the scale drops, ana says “fair enough”
a 15 year old girl with a lifeless 70 pound body, and still doesnt think she has “thea perfect body”.
bony ribs, and a pointy hip bones…..“she looks like a bag of bones”
as if sticks and stones would describe her mental break downs ….
but she never makes a sound…. Ana says “now you’re hell bound. dont make a sound ….now you belong in a hole in the ground…..ive win and you’re mine now.”
she called Ana, her friend. she was one of the few. she saw in her things that no one knew.

but before she knew, when she knew she couldnt break through,
when she couldnt pull through,
she withdrew her cold poor soul ….and was now in gods view.