strengthStaying strong even while you're falling apartTo fake a smile when you're about to cryRemind yourself of these thingsEven when each day drags on foreverNo matter what do what makes you happyGain this strength from your failuresThis too shall pass soHold yourself together
Hidden (the real me)I am hiddenbehind fake smileslong sleevesbaggy clothesI am hiddenso you can't seethe real meI say I hate foodbut that's a lieI tell you I'm always happybut that's a lie tooI say I've never self harmedstarved myselfthought of suicidebut the real meis scratching her way outshe wants to show youwhat no one seesI can't seem to let goof all the liesthat have createdthe girl that everyone else seesthe girl that's not me
her hand that guides me (blade's point of view)you couldn't possibly knowwhat it's like to be meto cut her skinto make her bleedto watch her cryto see her painI slice her skin,her beloved bladeI leave cuts on her hipsI leave scars on her wristsup her armsand down her legsI wish she would just put me awayI don't want to hurt herbut it's her hand that guides meit's not my choice
just one moreClose your eyestake a breathwatch the blood drip from your skinjust one more cut should do the trickI guess notI need more than onetwo three fourwill I ever stop?maybe not, that's okayI deserve to die anywayHaven't stoppedgetting dizzylosing bloodbut listen close to hear my pleamaybe it's not time to leave
the sky's forbidden storyI look at the starsshining above meeach tells a talea different storythe sky's passagefrom the forbidden storyit tells a story of the worldbefore all the warbefore all the painbut it is not supposed to be uncoveredit's a secret, trying to be freedsomeone needs to tell itit's going to have to be me
silver escapethe enemy strikes againfor the second time todayhard to keep it awaywhen it lies in your dresser drawerit whispers to you during the nightit screams at you during the daybut no one can hear it but youit's all in your headyour own little silver escapeyou come to realize it's not worth itit hurts much more than it helpsbut by now it's much too lateyes, for a second it's reliefbut for years after you can still see the scarsthe scars on your own skinthe scars on your own soul
the fieldI walk barefoot through the soft grassthe lilies wave hello as I stroll alongsmiling up at the sunmy bright blonde hair blowing gently through the breezethe field as soft as silkthe sun shining like a forest firesoaking up the sundreaming about tomorrowthe future as bright as the sun above
Katie, don't cryI see nothing in your eyes,and the more I see the less I lie.Dressed in your friday best,and ready to impress.If I have to I'll put myself right beside you,and now I'll ask would you like that?Would you like that?Katie don't cry,I know you're trying your hardest,and the hardest part is letting goof the nights we shared.It starts with one thing,it doesn't even matter how hard you try.Well if you wanted honesty that's all you had to sayI never wanted to let you down.lives in a fairy talesomewhere to far for us to find.I'm so tried of being heresuppressed by all my childish fears.I'm going away for a while,but I'll be backdon't try and follow me.I've been looking in the mirror for so longthat I've come to believemy soul's on the other side.
addictedYou became addicted towatching yourself bleedwith seeing it drip from your skinthe crimson stripesthe jagged linesYou became addicted tothe pain of every slashand with every sliceyou forget the worldmore and moreuntil it doesn't mean a thing anymoreYou became addicted tothe feel of the blade in your handbetween your fingersthe feel that you are in controlyou decide how this will goYou became addicted tothe rush that takes over youas soon as you slice the blade acrosswhen you cut open skinYou became addicted tothe relief you feel when you pullthe blade away from your skinleaving a sweet stingand the feeling of reliefYou became addicted tothe calmness that washes over youas you hold your skinunder the running waterafter you have finishedas you put the blade awayYou became addicted to the scars it leavescovering your bodyeach telling a storyeach showingyou're a fighterand so far you havesurvived
neverlandhe wasn't a lost boyhe was simply losthands grappling with the darknessas he searched for the star that wouldtake him to neverland
The PointIt’s the taste of cake mix on the spoon, that first time you ‘help’ bake a cake.It’s seeing the bright world afresh after a dark nightmare, when you first wake.It’s when you make them laugh and, in that moment, everyone loves a clown.It’s when your heart stops before the roller coaster plummets down, down.It’s when the lights go out before your favourite band plays and you scream.It’s that moment you look around and everything’s perfect enough to be a dream.It’s the anticipation of waiting for a new episode of your favourite television show.It’s the first time you listen to your favourite record and you just sort of know.It’s reading a book cover-to-cover and a million times more and still crying at the ending.It’s the stiff, tight, real feeling of a smiling scab as you watch the wound mending.It’s when you first meet your best friend and you hate each other (but in a good way).
AbuseHitting, punching,Trauma at dawn,Kicking, screaming,This is all so wrong.Nothing was there,Just the cold air,There you stare,With the huge chair.You never let me free,To run at the big tree,But you had other plans,With my bloody hands.Days turned into weeks,Losing color within my cheeks,The floor creaks,With every pressure in my feet.There lays the remains,Of my veins,There lays the chains,For his gains.
His Maid, Skilled (Episode 2, Part 8) Hurrying as fast as she possibly could, Danielle rushed back to the foyer of the manor. Her conscience had encouraged her to see if Grell and Pluto were alright and so, she threw the foyer doors open. Six dolls lay on the ground, their heads dented and bent, and two remained, attempting to close in on the reaper and hound, who were on the floor. Hurrying forward, she stepped into the room and came closer to them. “Grell!” She called out, catching his attention. “Are you doing alright?” “Don’t just stand there!” He shouted in response with a frightened, waivering tone. “Help me!” “Er… hold on,” she looked
His Maid, Skilled (Episode 2, Part 2) As Danielle was returning to the manor at midday, with the small package for the young master in her hand, she trotted up the walk and pulled her coat around her a bit tighter. The sky looked like it might threaten to snow and it certainly felt like it could. As she approached the front of the manor, she looked up and saw Mey-Rin and Finni working out in the yard. After greeting them, she went inside, where Sebastian was waiting for her. “Ah, Danielle,” he said walking towards her. “Just as punctual as ever.” She smiled and held out the box. “The package for the young master, as requested.” “Thank you,” he responded, taking it fr
His Maid, Skilled (Episode 2, Part 10) “Pluto!” Danielle tried to reason with the hound as it pulled Grell down a path. She ran after them. “I don’t think they went this way!” “Aii!” Grell squealed as the dog slowed down and the reaper was able to pull on the leash enough to stop the him. They stopped on a stone walkway, which appeared to lead to a large tower. “Why do I have to walk this beast?! Here you take this blasted leash!” He tried to force it into her hands. Pluto instantly turned and growled at Danielle, however, as she reached out for it. The maid sighed and took a step back, she knew that the dog wouldn’t stop growling until she did. “Hey now!” Grell exclaimed at the canine. “What’s the
CardiganI liked your cardigans because they were as soft as your skinand they seemed to match the atmosphere when we would sit at park tables,eating our words with silver spoonsand sitting next to each other rather than across because we didn't like the rulesof platonic relationships.You were left handed and your fingers and elbows would sometimesaccidentally collide with mine and you apologizedand I said that it was okaywhen I really wanted to beg for more.The truth was that I only ever wanted to know you andtouch your jaw and your fingersand your elbows and your collar bones but that was notappropriate for park tables and silver spoonsand you only wore cardigans around people who you thought of as just friendsand nothing more
006If he asked her to bleed she would sayHow deep do you want the cut?That's not love, darling.That's suicide.
How lovelyHow selfish of youSucking down your cancer sticksWhile your baby girlSlits her wristsHow kind of youTo call out my painAs a teenage tantrumOf personal gainHow sweet it isTo hear you both screamTo wake your childrenFrom tender dreamsHow perfectA couple so loving, entwinedBy harsh words, flowingAnd a knife in their spine
i am beautifuli. i am beautiful with tear streaked eyes and shaking hands clutching my blanket as hard as i canii. i am beautiful i decide as i walk down the school hallways faking a smile watching masks slipping off of people's faces as i walk by iii. i am beautiful i think as i stand facing a bathroom mirror clutching only a towel around my bare body thinking about how numb seeped it's way into my heart and how it feels like there is nothing there to stop it from destroying me...iv. i am beautiful i pray with closed eyes and shaking hands that maybe... ..somehow.. ..someday.. i can believe i am truly beautiful and not pretend at allv.the snow is whiteas i stand at heaven's pearly gates looking at a reflection at a girlwho has the widest smile i've ever seen and is by far the most beautiful girl i've ever looked ati hear
Heard AgainI floated like a leafand swung life away,until the stars began to falland gravity went away.Everything was upside-downand colors faded to gray,there came a day when I learned some tortures are self induced-and it felt better to be astray.I thought it was strange how we can suffer just by living being the last one to be seen, and the first one to go, living each day as if I were about to pass away.All it may have tookwas that first second he took my wilting body to the beating heart of his and told me 'Everything will be okay'There came a day when I learned I no longer needed to be afraid.
braidswe didn't meetlike star-crossed lovers do,with our hands tiedand longing to be held;we barely evenmet.our paths were crossedlike the braids i used to wear in my hair;inconsistently.but that was backwhen i didn't like my mirrors fogged,when i didn't need the truthto be happy.i yearnedfor some kind of acceptance,and you were the first onewho didn't mind that i wasn't perfect;i just feltthat i needed to be.i amnotmore than the flyaways on my head,notmore than hangnails, dry skin,chapped lips, taken-up-space.i amnotmore.my hair is knotted, frayed, andincidentally,tied up.i won't braid another lockfor you,for them,and not even formyselfbecause none of you peopledeserve that, anyway.
Something LostWhen I was youngerWith dark black hairFresh new skinBaby teeth still intactAnd a flawless porcelain teacupReady to be filledI was free.Summer days,Were magnificent.The sun would peek into my roomlike a bashful childMy eyes were wide awakeReady for a new day.Outside was whereMy spirit wasTiny toes and short legsTickled by dark green grassThat smelled of summer.When I was hungryMy small handsPlucked out the miniature mint leavesThat overtook the gardenSo I wouldn’t have to leave my friends for lunch.And the day went byDisappearing before my eyesOrange, red, yellow, a fire I couldn’t stopUntil it dulled to ashesAnd darkness encased my worldLike a box slammed shut.Those flickering sparksFlew aboutEvading my greedy graspMy eyes drooped like a willow treeTired from continuously pouring teaInto my cup.I was free,But even birds are chained to the skyAnd I flew back to my nestAfter soaring highReady to replenish my kettle.Now I lay in my bedT
Six Word StoryMemories are for books, not hearts
Green ChairA young man sat there,in a chair that conformed to his body,green and uncomfortable.He was looking out the 2nd floor windowwatching people coming in and going out.His laptop warmed his thighs,beads of sweat formed on his back and neckA single tear stained his cheek.He was writing a poem of pain.He wanted nothing morethan for the poem to come trueHe was writing a poem of pain.He was writing...He was...
Trappedsheclosesher blue eyesonly to seeothers happinesshow others are all freeshe is trapped inside herselftries, but unable to be freedshe is stuck, she cannot get awayinstead she stays unwilling to escape