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Gianna Jun 2020
My feet are a little unsteady,
As I move silently towards it.
Today I'm feeling a little bit more like...
Me.
The younger me.
The one that stood tall no matter what happened.
The one that was not ashamed of herself.
Some days, I'm afraid I forgot about her.
I can remember her  huge smile. I can also remember the gap in between her front teeth. Her imperfect body.
Her messy curly hair.
I don't know when I started holding my breath. I'm shaking.
Perhaps, I've been doing it for a while now.
Wild brown eyes stare back at me. She's not there.
I'm not her anymore.
These new eyes look scared, defeated.
She looks tired. Has she slept through the night? Has she had any nightmares today?
Where's her will to live gone to?
Why is she so afraid of the world?
I don't wanna look at her.
She's hurting.
She's fighting a war within her own mind.
I close my eyes, wishing she was different.
Maybe, just maybe, she could fit in.
Just venting...
Gianna Jun 2020
Better.
I'm better. At least that is what I've been trying to convince myself of for the past months.
I still want to make all of this... Hurting go away.
I've lost myself in this deep maze made out of steel. When the weather doesn't help, I melt. I become water, and I can't breathe. I can only keep swallowing water. I can only keep on dying, trying to be far enough from the ones I look up to, so no one knows I'm choking.
I need you. I need you to guide me this time, cause I'm walking with my eyes closed. They don't see what's real, so why do I need them, then? They're worthless.
Breathing with the ashes of the past dancing in the air around me makes me crave it. The old "habit" I used to shut my mouth with  is not working as it used to anymore.
I'm still broken.
I'm better...
I'm better.
Gianna Mar 2019
I have been fine
A happy girl living a normal  life
Now I’m broken
I can’t be fixed.

You think you can actually fix me
You think you can make me whole again,
Nevertheless, you can’t be more wrong
You have to stop being a dreamer.

Your high hopes are hurting me
That useless hope still  waits at my door,
Waiting for me to smile and dance under the rain with you,
Forgetting about my fresh scars carved on my body.

I cannot be fixed,
I cannot heal my broken soul,
And neither can you
So give up before I give up on you.

Sometimes I feel like a 4th of July,
And sometimes I feel like a December 2nd.
Sometimes I light before the big  thunder arrives,
And other times I cannot even shine with help of  my loved ones.




I’m shaking and sobbing,
I swim in an ocean of my own tears,
Looking for the north,
Looking for my light, my home.

I cannot seem to find the right place to rest my dizzy head,
No matter how far I run,
I carve the coordinates of paradise on my skin,
So I don’t forget them, or mistake them with a sweet dream come true.


How can you fix the mess I am today?
How can you make me dance under the rain?
Can you see it now?
Can you see my demons and its plans for me?

Will you give up on me?,
Or will you keep on fighting to save me from myself?
Gianna Jan 2019
In my veins, my blood runs free, but it's secretly still trapped inside me.

Inside my veins,I can feel it boil,silently screaming to be saved, to breath  fresh air in a different way.

A simple razor will make it.

The adrenaline I feel replaces all the bad.

It makes it all,in a twisted way, good for a minute.

The blood keeps on coming.

My hearts pounds against my chest, constantly afraid of being caught.

It feels like a drug.

A drug that lasts short periods of time, but is satisfying.
Gianna Jan 2019
You think yourself to death,
and your soul does not rest in the long nigth ahead of you.
Every single mistake you made seems to be heavier than expected. They seem to have a life of their own, two arms and two legs. They wear your face and tell you how to be nice, judging every step you take.

You hurt yourself until the sight of blood breaks the spell. You scratch your skin until you're back to being yourself, leaving the home you built for when the storm punches back, alone.

You burn yourself in lack of air. The heavy smell of burning flash is your worst nightmare, but you cannot control your mind, so you have to hold on to what's real and pray for redemption.

Days pass without mercy. Self harming becomes your way to survive through the week, since you start feeling numb.  You start getting getting used to the smell,the broken walls that sorround you, the alternative universe you're living in.

At some point. everything becomes amazingly clear, however, when you see the sunlight for the first time after days, weeks or months of pure darkness, the sun sets and you go back to being the strange person you know the most...

— The End —