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Savannah Jane Oct 24
If I had died..
you would have to live with the guilt
the guilt of knowing
you killed me.
maybe you’d eventually
forget me
replace me
let go of that guilt.
but maybe,
when you look at her
in just the right lighting
you see my face
instead of hers
or you look at your daughter
and remember that you helped me pick
what ours would have been named
or maybe when you see roses or the moon
you’ll remember my tattoos and how badly I wanted them and how I always wanted more of them
and maybe you’d feel guilty again.
Anna Vu Oct 11
do you know how they say "the good die young"

well i aspire to be the best i can be,

until i can die.

and i will wait for my death that will strike my youth

and i will continue to be good.

i will continue to be kind, to show kindness to others, and

not lash

but cry

against those who harm me.

and then,

once i am deemed good enough,

i can finally die.
trigger warning on this.  take caution before you decide to read.
KJ Oct 11
It’s getting bad again.
My skin is scratching, itching, burning.
I want to rake my nails down my wrist
just to relieve a little pressure.

It’s building up inside me.
I’m afraid that I’ll explode
and imbed shrapnel in those
who are closest to me.

I shy away
and leave myself alone.
Better to suffer in silence
than to make others worry.

I want to press a blade
deep into my hips.
To feel the blood bubbling up
and all my pressure-pain-panic
leaving with
each drop that flows down my thigh.

Just like old times.
things I refuse to do again but haunt my mind
nooneknoes Sep 28
My suicide is something I've dreamed of for a while.
My suicide scares me because I do not know what is after.
My suicide is something I have attempted many times but failed.
My suicide is going to be a relief.
My suicide is selfish.
My suicide is going to be by blade to my wrist.
My suicide is a thought that soothes me.
My suicide is going to be hard for the people around me.
My suicide will eventually be forgotten.
My suicide seems blissful but horrible at the same time.









I hope my suicide is soon.
Jules Sep 21
dear ***,
(if *** is listening)
i have not died
today.

when the ledge called to me
i did not answer;
when the blade stared at me
i did not falter,
did not offer my hand in greeting
did not hope for it to hold me;
instead
i lay there
and waited for the day to break.

the world kept turning
and i have been left here,
in the strange in-between,
in the stillness;
all the unremarkable tasks
and the things i should be doing -
if i am not swamped by sadness
i am burdened by work;

it is all right.
i have not died
today.
by tomorrow i will return.

dear friends
(for you are the last true thing)
the heart is still heavy
but sometimes the burden is shared.
my hands are still shaking
and i am so tired
but i cannot wait to see you again.
i have not died
today.

dear voice in my head that tells me to die
(i have to believe you are false)
you are so good at convincing me
but by some foolish miracle
i have not died
today.

dear myself
(it has been a while;
come home soon)
yes, i know;
we are both tired
and drawn to the exit sign
but we have not died
yet.
we are still here
and quite alive;
it is all right
even if we are only waiting
for our life to remember her purpose;

it is all right.
we will not die
tomorrow.
i don't know
Lost Sep 19
I miss you
Over 100mg a day
You made
my heart race

I miss you
The way you
Made me scratch
at my skin
and my scalp
Until there was blood
Under my fingernails

I miss you
Dropping 35lbs with you
Made me feel
So pretty
That I stopped eating
For days
And started purging
The food from my empty
Shrunken stomach
In public restrooms
With plastic spoons

I miss you
I didn’t sleep alone
When I had you
You sat on my chest
And wrapped my hands
Into white-knuckled
Clenched fists
You held me tighter
With each shallow
Painful breath

I miss you
My now steadied limbs
Don’t feel complete
In the absence of
Your gentle rattle
I want you to make
My bones dance again

I miss you
Joints shuddering
In aching pain
From you
Winding them up
So tight
I wish you could
Be here again
To contract
Every muscle
In my starved
Depleted body

I miss you
We would sit
On the bathroom
Counter together
And scrutinize
My yellowed skin
Picking and prodding
At every imperfection
For hours
Leaving scabs
And scales
Littering my
New thin face

I miss you
I remember fondly
The time we spent
Together laying
Face-down on
My kitchen floor
The tingly buzz
You filled me with
Every time I fainted
Pleasantly twinkling
Across my body

I miss you
At 4am
The time we
Used to stay
Up until
Every night
Staring at a wall
In my dimly lit room
Hours passing
Without me
Even noticing

I miss you
I know you hurt me
But I want you back
Every day
I miss how you made
Every moment hurt
And now I spend
All my time
Craving that pain

I miss you
I want you
To wreak havoc
All over again
Through my
Willing body
Swallowing doses
Of prescribed self harm
Each morning
I’m so horribly
Painless without you
CONTENT WARNING: Descriptions of disordered eating and bulimia
I want to do a lot right now and in my head I'm doing them.

I'm smashing every single window I see.

I'm bashing my head repeatedly on the pavement, until my brain is rewired correctly.

I'm throwing the new expensive mug I just bought on the floor.

I'm picking up the shards from said mug and smashed windows and ripping my wrists wide open.

I'm laying on the train tracks, my innards splayed out, a spectacle for everyone to admire.
Jay Truitt Sep 16
Crisp red blood on a marble floor
splashing like crimson raindrops.
My blood escapes the fresh cut as my blade dances across my skin.
My head gets lighter the more I cut
but that doesn't stop me.
I look for another place to test my blade but it seems I've run out.
I roll my blood stained sleeves down and conceal my legs and waist.
My dry blood covers the marble floor, and I could never be happier.
Sara Buzz Sep 5
457
457
But I don't look like a tiger
they call me fierce
but I feel like a liar.

Only I can see
the damage done to me
457
and it didn't have to be.

457
But nobody knows
everything's faded so it doesn't even show.

457
Can you see the discoloration?
in summer heat, jacket halfway off,
notice my hesitation?
I've been conditioned,
"scars are ****"
457
but you can't even see them.

457
That's where I draw the line
not again
no more pain
"I promise I'm fine".

All this hiding has been in vain.
it's been such a long long time,
how much happiness did I feign?
Just to get through?
Just to survive.
Doing what I can just for
one more, only one more day.
I didn't believe but I looked up at *** and begged for another way.

He told me to be brave
He told me He'd make a way
He promised He'd shed 1,000 tears of forgiveness for 1 single mistake.

But I didn't believe Him,
I didn't do my part
so 457 lines I've made.
Crossing the line away from real life and stepping into the darkness within and hoped I'd fade.

457
Not as bad as it could've been,
but forever it seemed, it took that long, 5 years to come out.

5 years to give up and look for another rout.
But it's a battle I still fight.
I remember myself and Gods promises of life,
I have to read it all back to myself every single night.

Do I carve away at skin or erase all of my sin?
I can try to look for Gods face but I know that I'm only human.

457 cuts on my body
but the words you gave somehow felt worse.

I messed up.
32 more, an unforgiving night, devastated and once again alone.
But *** understands and knows
He sees my mistakes and woes
457 cuts on my body.
but 457,000 healings on my soul.

I'll look forward to the day
where the razors wont get in my way
I'll live life, Gods promises fulfilled
I'll try to do my part,
praise His name, look ahead
no longer making grotesque red art.
I'll let it fade, let the memories decay
I won't have to lie about being ok.

457
457
5 years of my flesh punished for experiencing sadness and existing.

Sure those who may know me may call me a tiger,
mocking memories of the old broken skin.
They could call me fierce, or weak, or strange, or a cutter, like I'd been.
But if one thing remains then I know that it doesn't matter.
Only *** can forgive my sins.

You can hate me,
but if you haven't been there don't blame me.
I don't have time to listen to lies.
You have a problem with my past?
Speak ill of how I had to cope to last?
*** forgives you too, yeah, but I know you didn't ask.

Yeah, I'm a tiger, a lioness, bird whatever,
freedom under *** will allow me to soar.
I'll reach new heights that they never expected, and they'll never forget the roar I've perfected.

457
All that my agonies were,
but I won't let it continue to happen anymore.
And one day I wont even remember that number...
I won't even realise what it was for.
Kane Aug 7
I am sick.

My nose is stuffy
My throat is sore
Headaches & fever
Loss of hearing in my right ear

But there's more than that.

My stomach begs for food when I do not feel hungry.
I shiver and curl in on myself and say that it's alright.
Lies spill from my mouth like a waterfall.
This body is home to more darkness than this world has ever seen.
I am unsure how to ask my doctor why this is happening.
When asked before why my dress size went from an 18 to a 14 so quickly, I could not give an answer.

This is my last year of high school and I know what is safe to have.
How much orange juice to have without going over 100.
Where I can sit without my friends finding me.
Who to give my food to that won't ask questions.
Classes to miss because sometimes, it's too much.
I know who keeps an extra jacket all year round.
Which bathrooms are okay for shoving my fingers down my throat.

But I still don't know how to type a report on this illness and explain why I did not have any sources cited.
How to tell a teacher that the quotes are from me and other people that I had gotten tips from.
A group chat full of screaming teenagers who are all just dying to be thinner, to go down just one-two-seven more sizes.
Instagram accounts full of inspirational pictures and advice for the caption, occasionally posting a check of themselves.
Websites that have been deleted by now that I had spent hours looking at and writing rules from.

How am I supposed to tell a teacher that....
My report was so well written because I was my main source of information?
I can't look at foods and drinks without seeing numbers?
I can't look in a mirror without wanting to cry?
I view food as poison to my body?
I sleep in class so often because my body is lacking the nutrients it needs to keep going?
I have been like those screaming teenagers for years and as much as I say that I'm better, I will always be like them?

How do I explain to my teacher I'm slowly killing myself and I can't stop it?

At least my report was turned in on time. That's all that matters to them.
I had to study eating disorders and mental health issues for school and it didn't go so well and I ended up writing this...
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