Most days feel like bad days,
and the only days that feel good
are for all the wrong reasons

...and I tuck myself away again.

I can’t seem to shake
This bleakness,
the fog that has inhabited my brain.
I like to think that sometimes for days,
even weeks at a time
clouds will cover the sun,
Yet it still shines brighter than anything else
I pray my clouds will part
and allow the sun to kiss my skin once again
I just need to keep in mind that
the sun can hurt people too

You’ve helped me learn to be alone.

Why did you tell me my lips tasted like heaven
if you never planned on kissing me again?

I know everyone says that misery loves company
But so do I.
Misery gives me something to think about,
no matter how terrible it may make me feel.
She keeps my mind occupied
While Making sure I’m never alone.
Misery takes my hand and leads me away from here,  
Sometimes we get lost,
Sometimes on purpose,
I don’t always know the way through my head like she does.
I know befriending misery is what keeps me from moving forward,
But honestly, having someone that feels like a friend is
enough

The words are seeping from my pores tonight,
Overflowing with sorrow, grief, too many things left unheard.

you can’t keep chewing me up and spitting me out until you get the flavor you want.

Tired of always getting lost in my thoughts,
and always in thoughts that make me feel lost.

They say the devil don’t judge but I’ve met him and have never felt harsher judgement.

Even when the apple does fall far from the tree, that doesn’t mean it isn’t bruised on the way down.

And I know that
if I begged my mom to talk to me
before I killed myself,
she still wouldn’t pick up

Sometimes I do wish
you could hear just
how dangerous this
silence can be.

I was born into a world that clipped wings and barred windows.
The people around me littered the air
with false hope and promises.
They told me they would be there no matter what,
help me no matter what I needed.
Little did I know it was all a fallacy.
They were not there to hold my hand
when I stepped on the scale for the first time,
then each day that followed.
They were not there to pluck the blade
from my fingers after I discovered its release.
They were not there to wipe my tears and hold my head up
each night when I collapsed.
I want to believe they tried to offer support
and be there when I needed them most,
but is that true?
I do not want them to be half in with their half hearts-
leave me to my vices and let me cope
in a way that I know I cant trust.

Love- the infamous cure-all, heal-all. The force meant to make life worth living and dreams worth dreaming.
But what happens when that force is only strong enough to allow someone to stay alive. Only enough to prevent someone from leaking every ounce of blood from their body, but not stop them from going deep enough to see a few drops. It cannot stop the creation of new scars and used bandages.
Love is enough to make the action of consuming food bearable, but never enough to prevent the flushing and acid baths that follow.
Love is here to remove your finger from the trigger and the barrel from your mouth. It will not hold back the tears and shut out the thoughts screaming to just ******* do it.
Love allows for a body to continue breathing and a heart to continue beating, but cannot stop the mind from wishing it wasn’t.
This force is slowly losing its strength and the power it holds.
It can and will not save you forever

You’ll eventually realize that you have become everything you were running away from.

I want to tear apart my skin to show you how ugly I am on the inside.
I want to show you the face behind this shell.
I want you to catch a glimpse of the voices and what they tell me
              Disgusting, shame, pig
I want to remove my eyeballs so you can see what I see.
I want to show you the teeth that eat away at my being.
I want to see you shudder as the demons seep from my pores.
             Can’t get away, poison

I’m an ill girl with an ill mind,
grew up in an ill world and I fell behind.
They watched me grow, then watched me grow weak,
I’ve asked for help but can no longer reach.
The pain has made a home, the hatred settled in,
I’ve come to accept that I will not win.
So please don’t beg and don’t wipe my tears,
these things you’re trying to prevent I no longer fear.

I’m an ill boy with an ill life,
grew up in an ill home and I turned to the knife.
It helped me at night and it helped me to cope,
I’ve since searched to feel more and turned to dope.
This pain is far too familiar, it has become a part of me,
Ive made it clear I will not be here forever just wait and see.
So please don’t beg and don’t wipe my tears,
These things you’ve caused me to do silence my fears.

We walk and we lie with monsters
they hold our hands
caress our cheeks
plant kisses on our lips
some may even actually care
We become so sure of them
and so unsure of ourselves
that we still hold those hands even after they have bruised us
we still long for their touch
even when we know they don’t know how to caress anymore
we wish for their lips
all while they use them to spout hate in our direction
now that we know what they are capable of
their promise to love us til the end of time
is the scariest truth of all

My life did not fall apart
all at once or so suddenly
small pieces and fragments
began to wear down and
be stripped away slowly
first the distance
between my family grew
I was alone before I knew it
no longer crossing their minds
my body became weary
and my thoughts ran slower
my love for reading and school faded
love for myself declined rapidly then
I shed weight and I shed tears
remaining tucked away in my home alone
locked away with this brain
unsure if I want to stay anymore
still my questions go unanswered
why did they leave
where did my mind go
where can I find myself again.

You blamed the drugs
and you blamed the *****
Every time you took a look in the mirror
you chose to reassure yourself
instead of those you left behind
Even now after two months sober
no more drugs
and no more *****
you continue to be able to look at yourself in a mirror
and I have no ******* idea how

I’ve withered down to brittle bones
supporting a now hallowed shell,
begging the wind to take me.