trigger warning: do not read if you have depression.*

hot showers are always the best
when you're sad and depressed
what's the point in
staying in this joint
living your sorrows over and over
there might not be another tomorrow
black and blue
pink scars too

Light bounces off the cold metal,
A ****** blade begging for skin.
Pant leg pulled up above her ankle,
Looking for an escape from sin.

Crimson forming behind the glide,
Not too deep she's in control.
The knot within comes untied,
She watches as the feelings roll.

She keeps fighting this battle,
One she feels she may not win.
But her blade in turn is evil,
Instead it will let him in.

The rush wears off she runs to hide,
Into the comfort of her hole.
She knows she'd have rather died,
Than live with this broken soul.

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.

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.

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.

dear god,
(if god 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 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.

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 ugly"
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 God 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 God 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 God 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?
God forgives you too, yeah, but I know you didn't ask.

Yeah, I'm a tiger, a lioness, bird whatever,
freedom under God 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.

It's been a back and forth motion:

losing
  gaining
losing
  gaining
losing
  gaining
  maintaining
losing

for nearly a decade.

I can't seem to find* my way back up from this downward spiral
and I'm losing more than mass as I descend.

I don't have anyone close enough to stop me. Not that I'd let them anyways.

I'm going to keep
losing and
losing and
losing.

I'll turn sideways and disappear.
Shrivel up into .nothing.

And maybe then,
   just then,
I might feel valid.

(*correction: I can but I refuse to.)