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I am responsible for my own misery,
I am the one who created this hell.
I should have known better, and gotten help,
The very first time I fell.

I kept on finding excuses,
I kept on spreading blame.
I kept on telling myself lies,
and building this burning flame.

Now here I am helpless, depressed and lonely.
Wanting, wishing, hoping to end it all.
But I don't have the strength to **** myself,
Or the will to keep fighting through this wall

I have lost faith in god,
and the belief in the soul within.
No sight of my goals or my dreams.
No idea of who I was and who I have lately been

During the day I am the naïve, happy, jolly person everybody sees,
and by night a depressed, lonely, pathetic freak.
I feel like I should talk to someone,
But I know everyone has problems of their own.

Why is this so difficult?
Why cant I just live life and have fun?
There's talk about robbers, ****** and terrorists.
No one is hurting me but myself; there is no one else to blame: I am the one!

People like me need to start taking charge of their own life.
Aiming higher and taking the dives
Or we will end up like lifeless dolls,
After the world is done directing our lives.

Accidents and miracles do happen,
But the chances are very low
Now lets stop gambling with our lives
and just watching the show.

Accept some things,
and change some if u need to.
Work very hard,
but then take a break when you need to.

Just remember to keep doing things,
and never give up.
Because the story isn't over until,
The End.
The whispers I hear in the light
Are worse than the ones I hear at night.
Panic takes over and I can't breathe.
Anger continues to build as my blood seethes.
Friends are my enemies and enemies are my friend.
I realize this as over my knees I bend.
I may not be a saint but they aren't martyrs.
Behing my back or in front of my face.
They constantly make me hate this place.
Constant glares and ***** looks
Making my temper boil and cooks
Like the meat on the grill
And then make it freeze and stand still.
Wishing my temper were my heart
Killing me is like a work of art.
The whispers grow and grow and grow
But I know they will never leave and go.
Written 5/29/08 @ 8AM by Kathrine Mack.
I am a package
Full of lies
And years of careful
Deceit.

I am the wind
Roaring, howling
In the night, for
Everything that isn't.

I am water
Dripping, slowly
Down soft warm skin in
The dead of the night.

I am a scream
Muffled, a
Dull throb in a
Bleeding heart.

I am whispers.
I am darkness.
I am guilt.
I am pleas.

I am lies,
Years of
Carefully constructed
Lies.
The stars are our secret admirers until the sun disappears below the horizon. The moon glows brightly, mocking me because the sun is no longer protecting me. As the moon laughs down, and crickets compose the songs of the night, the stars watch from above making sure that nothing will happen to me. I peer outside my window beside my bed into the open field, I see the grass swaying back and forth as if they were slowly dancing to the ballet of the sweet summer nights. The trees creating a darker dark then when your eyes are shut tight to hide from the monsters inside your mind. Once again the sun peeks its way up above the skyline and provides another dismal day, with the stars silently watching from above, but I know that they speak louder words than anyone.

Rain drops fall, only because the clouds are crying. As the stars comfort the clouds from high above, the sun shines bright once more, ceasing the rain and creating life. I watch on as the soil goes from the deepest brown to a light color as the water flows to the underworld to quench the thirst of the demons.  Underneath my feet, the grass clings  to the ground for dear life as wind takes a stroll through the valley. Sun sets, stars rise, Moon shines and depression awakens from the rest he had during the day.

In the silence of my room, the door closed and the lights off, with just enough light to see outlines of the darkened walls, I see the shadows of my happiness disappear into the closet for another time. I struggle to lean forward and grasp it, but I cannot move. I am tied down, with hands upon my shoulders like depression has all of its strength against me to keep me in the warmth of my bed, saying it would be for the best.

Through the night, all I heard was a voice saying that I have gotten what I deserved, Over an over again that rang through my skull and bounced back through my ears so I was forced to hear it over and over again. I close my eyes tighter and tighter to escape what I am hearing, but my body consumes my thoughts and my eyes spring open. Tears form and roll down my cheeks. I don’t bother to wipe them, I just lie there and realize that they have won. The tears have conquered my will power and I am weakened. I pray for the daylight to come, and force my eyes to close and fall into a sleep that will be cut short by the rise of the sun and the bedtime of the devil.
I glance towards the sun, the bluebird sky shows hope for me to fly away someday into freedom. I look towards the closet and motion for my happiness to come out for a little bit, at least enough for me to get through today. I put on fresh pants, and a nicely washed shirt, comb my hair and smile into the mirror. I am smiling but all I see are are 32 white lies and lips spread open. I walk outside and the sun becomes dimmer, as if he is mad I gave half the day to last night. I take a step onto the lawn and lie down, and watch the sky hoping to see the stars so I can thank them for bringing today to me.
A brilliant hue, a darkening blue.
The silver dots parade the sky.
The falling drops, the pattering sound,
They all drown out my cries.
The moon looks down at me, stares, and looks away silently.
“Will you pretend too?” I ask. My voice a mere whisper.
It doesn’t look my way again. The cool air turns crisper.
The raindrops are racing on the pane; it feels as if the sky is weeping.
The heart-wrenching thunderstorm is my only friend.
It’s such a dark, dark night. The lights are flickering; they’re about to die.
Fresh liquid oozes out, and colors’ the pale skin.
A vivid blend of red and white; what a unique shading.
“He came again today.” I tell the walls; with hope they’ll understand.
I hope they’ll enclose me, even if briefly, in their arms, and protect me from that man.
This time I feel the pressure of the blade, it’s a little harder than before.
I feel it glide gently over my skin, leaving a thicker trail, than before.
He looks down at me, stares, and looks away silently.
I see the brilliant hue, the darkening blue.
I see the silver dots parading the sky.
I see the falling drops, and hear the pattering sounds.
I feel myself shatter, after his many tries.
I hear the raindrops drowning out , drowning out my cries.

— The End —