The truth about my recovery?
I lied
I told the truth
I was better.
So much better
a different person
truly, really,
not the me that was dying to die a year previous.
for six years the monsters consumed me
It starts so subtle.
She’s skinnier.
‘No I’m on a diet’
‘I’m a size 0’
your best friend skips lunches.
slowly, surely, the monster slips into your head.
your nightmares are living
compulsions start.
too young.
don’t eat in front of people.
one granola bar will get you through practice until home.
and all the comments egging you on.
‘you aren’t skinny enough for that..’
‘but if you eat salad all summer’
Soon you can’t look at yourself.
Soon the Monster of self hatred turns you to more
because the diets aren’t enough
so spring break after a bowl of corn chips
you close the bathroom door
and the porcelain becomes your ally.
friends may know.
but you can be sneaky.
after all, how else would you manage your size?
Eventually it isn’t enough, you want quicker results.
And the monsters of self hatred are eating you up.
you’ve grown now of course.
pushed away friends who knew who wanted you to get help.
Because this Monster, This darkness in your mind,
your only friend.
No more food.
leave crumbs and a buttered kife.
anything eaten, behind the bathroom door.
And very soon
The blades come out to play.
So intriguing how easy it is.
and how simple to hide.
What an easy release.
17 and 110 lbs, covered in scars on her hips.
I did get help.
I went to therapy.
I loved it.
I didn’t just change these acts
I changed myself.
But I wasn’t better, I was anxious
to be done with it
to be set free.
So I stopped going.
when I wasn't totally ready.
I thought I was happy..
But is that why I relapsed?
It was only once.
But is that why I still find myself depressed?
Sometimes suicidal?
Is it my fault?
It’s usually my fault so I can see how it would be.
I lied.
That’s the truth.
And
I
Don’t
Know.
But I do know
this recovery is a continuous fight.
And I just wonder
Where am I now?

My whole life I was the most talked about person there was
I was talked about by people by co workers by friends
I thought one day it would all end
I laugh and smile not to show how I truly feel around people
It not like anybody will care anyways
I was always judged throughout my life In school
And yet they still judge me to look cool
My whole life people told me I'm nothing I'd always be considered lame
So now I've gaven up on t popularity and fame
I feel there's no reason for me to be in this world
I laugh and feel sad as I wath all my cousin and brothers get girls
Nobody understands me not my brothers and even my mother
I guess that's why it shows from others
Nobody understands  my pain my kife my struggles and more
I'm an angel that's fallen that can no longer sore
Nobody understands me only because I'm different
Different by how I act and how I look
I was the kid who had nicknames still today its the same
I still have pain inside
But out of every hurt I felt it never ruined my pride
So that part is good
My Name is Louis Haynes
And I'm misunderstood

Up the gods rock,
To the top of the island
I climb – a lucky guest.
I’m crowned in laurel

And bigger than the sea.
Round and round
The sparkly heavens shove me;
The pitch black

Catches me.
I’m a microbe, a quasar;
A pillow, a kife!
I’m ready, I’m hazy

Your nightmare, your prize.
Have I yet the courage
For the dive –
The big dip.

I’m still green and weary
I shall dry up or slip,
Into death
and oblivion and dread.

Newton is dead.
Why are we still clinging to a flat Earth?
Observe the atoms,
Ride the waves.

It is me I see
In every crook and corner.
It is me who sees,
It is me I see.

I am your Frankenstein
You mighty organiser
You puzzle maker
You forgot to flip the light switch in my eyes.

You stuck me, colourful
to a monochromatic Earth.
Unrelentingly chasing
Hidden meanings,

Fireflies.

Yaar seriously. You have ****** me badly.
Eni buri tara naal fat rahi meri
Me das nai sakda
Daily regrets
Daily rona
Daily ehi kam
** gea
Morning de 4 waje hoye ne
Nd me ehi tehi krwa reha thuhanu soch soch ke
Bhenchod nu ik war bi meri yaad nai andi honi
Te me ethe lea marwa reha apni

Koi na putt, din mere bi aau. Bhawe thode din lagu
Putt jinni fat rahi na meri, tuci samj nai sakde
Menu ena bi lata ki tuci meria eh gallan read bi nai krde
Lod bi ki he
Meri aukat bi ki c u dj kife wich
Saliye kade meri value pai bi c?
Agar pain hundi ta ah din na dekhda me
Me thuhanu bi barabar da kasuurbaar samjda ha is takleef lai
Koi na putt, thoda time de
Dekh bina bole te bina kuj kahe kiwe tadpaun tenu jiwe aj me tadap reha

****** up yaar, i hate it

Could not even **** myself the blood that would have pourd i could not even clean. Cut my thoat an leave me lay, hip hip hurry everyone would say.

The wife come home there is no sound what would she have done? Keep the kids outside, please dont let them see my lifeless limbs. hang from me mangled on the ground Bleeding so profound. Let me die in peace i say lead my kids away.

Do not let them see the pain i do today where my life is worth more when i lay kife to my throat let me pay for life is worthless anyway

Why do we hide
When we shouldn't
We show people to get help
But when we do they think
It's for attention
How can anyone get help
If every thinks people only
Do it for attention
You haven't seen the breakdowns
The many sleepless nights
The skipped meals
The lies
I'm fine, I already ate
I'm not hungry,
It funny how people believe them
If you ever wanna be a better
Lier just be depressed
It becomes a natural thing
Lying that is
Sometimes even the hurt
The depressed can be
The most dangerous people
They can make hell feel like home
How dangerous is it
I'm no longer hiding
It's not like anyone will get me help
Why hide it
It's their fault
It's better to stop their kife-like
Words from cutting right
Through you
And just hurt yourself before
They can hurt you
Why do we do it?
For control
For control of the pain
Anyone who freaks about the scars
Tells me to stop
Just stop
Who has ever told
Someone with asthma to just breathe
It's unheard of right
Because having a lessened amount
Of air is a side effect
But yet when people tell
Self-harmers to just stop
They don't realize that
They might as well be saying
Just breathe to an asthmatic
Self-harm is a side effect
Of depression
So many people don't realize that
This is serious people
It's worse than an asthmatic
This is real blood
Who would cut for attention
Oh maybe people think
Self-harm is cool
Everyone is doing it now
It must be a trend
Why is it that everyone says
Drugs are bad they can **** you
But no one says self-harm
Is just as bad
It becomes an addition
So hard to stop
How can everyone ignore it
It's a physical mark
Why is it in our nature to hide
To hide our cry for help
It's too much work
Planning what you have to wear
So no one sees
It's a hassle
How about we just go around
Showing our scars
And having people not be disgusted
Maybe if we showed them off
People wouldn't be so surprised
About them
Wouldn't call them ugly
Wouldn't make us stand out
We could be ourselves
And show the war we are going
Through

Akwai wani mutum da baya karya
A cikin al'amuransa baya karaya
A kowanne yanayi baya kada garaya
A duk wahala baya juya baya
A yanayin fushi baya jayayya
A cikin daji ya kan dauki kaya


Bashi da yaudara ko kifadi
Baya tsoron ta kife in ya fadi
Baya ja da baya wajen tadi
Baya tsoro ko da za'ayi shadi
Baya rowa wajen bada madi
Baya taka rawa duk dadin kidi


Cikakken adali ne **** kowa yabi
Cikin jama'a kuwa baya harbi
Cincirundon jama'a sunyi masa lakabi
Farar aniya laya sai muyi ta bi
Saboda yaja raganar kowa sai muyi tabi
Tafi-tafi dai GAWUNA kowa ya bi

evereyday i remember are memories

as it rains
i rain insided

you lifted me up
then left me as a dump.

you stole my heart
then left me in the dark.

i have risen
knowing now i fear nothing

my life is a kife.

the things i have seen
would change a normal person.

i push myself in life
till i become a kit

everyday is the same as the last
i masked my pain

as if its my last

I barge into life like a barrel full of bourbon lit with a beeswax wick.

After starving for four and a half years, I contrived an urban survival technique that only factored in quarters and reeking like *****.

I found several ways to kife away hours of free wifi off of my free smart phone given by the church to help with job searches.

Lucky, I had several minutes to myself to make believe.

Lucky, I was too cold to find time to cry, and grieve about a golden age that'd really only made sense when I engaged in backwards thinking.

Life can stink, and that made me happy; that I held so much in storage, and it'd assuaged away my insecurities in fear.

I used old times like leftovers; to build a porridge of a heart poured over stale soup and beer, and left out, but it'll be the last thing I can find on a life boat to bail me out of bitter makings.