It was all too easy,
The way you smiled,
Like a ray of light
breaking through the trees.

You brought shadows into light,
but it's just me again down here.
I wanted to give you glory,
but there was nothing you could do.

It was all too easy
to make you smile
that beautiful smile
and melt the ice in my heart.

I screamed.
No one came.

This is ruthless world,
and no one will be there
to save you when you need it.

The glass tottered on the edge of the table.
Half full, half empty?
I don't know.
But I let it fall.
However full it was,
It's in the floor now
And littered with shards of glass.

The words have lost their meaning.
I feel really empty... Numb...
I can't seem to make the words mean anything.
This is all I have.
I need it.

I asked for happiness on my sixteenth birthday.
That is far from what I got.
Sixteen year old me ended up in a dark place,
With frightening people.
And here I am, seventeen,
Falling ever deeper into the darkness.

Maybe if I'd never asked for happiness,
It wouldn't have been this bad.
Maybe I wouldn't have met that man,
And he wouldn't have done what he did.
Maybe if I'd learned to be happy instead of just asking for it,
I would be happy today.

I've grown weary of the daily grind.
Tired of the constant work, so many expectations.
I cannot meet all of them, not at once.
I'm drained by this life.
I'm not sure how much
longer before I collapse.
I'm done with this life,
I just want to rest,
an untroubled sleep.

Remember that you must die.
Do you know that?
Everyone dies,
you should know that.
Life does not go on,
It ends.
It's sad, for some,
But true all the same.
Remember to die, my friend.
You cannot live forever.

Two hours of sleep
Nightmare.
A piece of cheese and a *******
for lunch
Close the curtains
I hate the sunlight
three blankets
sweaty but safe
go home
stay home
leave me alone
Did you eat?
enough
You're worrying me.
Empty words, cold replies
go back to sleep

Wake up, unplug the clock.
Get up too late,
skip a meal and hurry to leave.

A disappointed lecture,
a promise to do better.
Flip through the papers, forehead meets desk.

Leave for lunch.
Order nothing.
Stare at the blank wall with shadowy corners.

More papers, more flipping,
more disappointment.
Grab the keys, start the car, sigh to the empty seats.

Return to the empty room,
smile to no one, pretend to be happy.
Alone, go to bed, the cold blankets don't embrace like a lover.

Rewind and repeat this lugubrious existence.

They've found me guilty.
Today I will die.
Are you coming?

I know you do so love to watch death.

The beat of the military drums
And the bitter stench of fear,
It all falls quiet as I am led to the end.
The grim silence of death is looming.
As the glinting steel of the axe falls,
My cold laugh echoes in the heavy silence.
I'll be seeing you again, soon.

Everything freezes as the axe hits it's mark.
Goodbye, for now.

I must be immortal.
No matter how
hard I try to die,
I cannot succeed.

Will you teach me
how to be brave?
How to hold myself
together when all
the my pieces are
shattered on the floor?
Do you know how to be strong?
Does anyone?

I woke up dead.
I was still breathing,
But something inside me had given up.
The light had died.

Maybe it was never there to begin with.
Maybe I've alway been less alive than everyone else.
I like to watch the living.
The way they smile when nothing is special enchants me.

I've not been among them for a long time.
They're beautiful, the living.
They look so natural, so fresh, so new.
Like flowers in the spring before the heat of the summer withers their beauty away.

I wish I could be among them,
But instead, I'll stay alone,
And watch from a distance,
Forever wishing my life back.

My
        lips

             are
                

         chapped

   from
your

      **absence

Those words do not encompass my emotions.
I am so much more than just sad,
It's not a bad day,
It's so much more.
What I have been through,
And I how I feel,
Is not properly explained.
Not with "I'm sad."
Not with any words.

How did you get my number?
Why are you doing this to me?
What did I ever do to you?
Why must you make my life such hell?

I guess you wanted to remind
me just how worthless I am,
when you weren't there to reinforce
the lesson with your presence.

Does anyone else find it ironic that Poe was a poet who wrote poetry?
Almost as if he was born to be haunted by words.

Can someone please tell me
what it is like to be a first choice?
To be wanted?
To feel approval?
To have some one look at you,
like you're worth something?

The nicest thing he ever did
was clean me up.
He wiped off the filth
that came from him,
And cleaned the blood
From my split lip.
I know he was careful
Not to hurt me too much.
Because he took me home
after he dressed me
And threatened that
Things would be worse
If I told anyone
What he had done.

I didn't mean to break the mirror.
I thought I saw a monster.
It was my reflection.

Lately I wake up in the night
and find my pillow
wet with my grief.
Sobbing in my sleep;
that can't be healthy.

I never knew how to be happy
But you never knew how to be kind.
Maybe that's why we're both broken now.

I woke up in pain today.
I can't say I'm surprised.
Sleep isn't rest anymore,
and my dreams are
no longer peaceful.

Exhaustion takes over,
Nightmares linger.
But are they nightmares?
They're memories.
Guilt. Fear. Sadness.

She's going to go places.
She's going to go far in life.
Me? I'll probably be dead
by the time I'm twenty five.
My own hand, I'm sure,
will be the one to tie the knot.
I think about death a lot.
The different ways to die.
The best day to do it.
This isn't what normal people do.
I'm sorry to say it, but it's likely,
I'll **** myself before I'm twenty five.

Death like eyes knows little of listening to the cold love hardened words cupped in my hands.
It just wants a way to feel able to be held dear.

Sometimes I feel like we're all just here,
Telling each other we deserve better,
but never taking our own advice.
Do we even know how to be okay?

I'm very aware that my writing is... lacking.
But so am I.
So keep your thoughts to yourself.

....please.

When Death comes for me,
I will take his hand,
Like an old friend
And say to him,
"I've been waiting a long time for you."

I take hot showers.
It's nice at first,
The steam flowing around you.
Gloriously warm, like an embrace.
But it starts to burn,
The water pelts against your skin,
Stinging and turning it red.
Revel in the pain,
For when you get out,
The numbness will return.

When I asked him why he said such cruel words,
He told me he did it out of love.

When I asked him why he threw things,
He told me he did it out of love.

When I asked why he threw a bottle at me,
He told me he did it out of love.

When I asked him why he hit me,
He told me he did it for my own good.

When I asked him why he forced me,
He told me to get out of his sight.

When I asked him why he choked me,
He told me to die.

I guess the answer isn't always
*because I love you.

"Follow me, " she said, as she danced through the garden.
Flittering wings and a tinkling laugh,
I followed her, enchanted.
The flowers bloomed as she passed,
The air filling with the scent of spring.
She led me to her garden
and taught me to love again,

For a year or so, I was happy.
Comfortable with myself.
There were always the pervading fears
And the lingering self hatred,
But I was almost happy,
For a while.
But know I see myself again,
And I do not like what I see.
My hatred is back
And I think it's going to stay
For a while.

I lost my childhood...

Please help me to find it.

You can't love somebody
who you don't understand
And you know what happens
When they don't understand?
They learn to fear you
And then they look at you
Like a monster.
No, you can't love what you
Don't understand.

I picked the skin off my lips when they weren't looking,
so maybe I could forget your touch.

You asked me why I let myself hurt.
Because I don't know how to fix it.
and maybe, maybe, I like it
Just a little, in some little way,
I like the pain.

I think of myself,
My existence,
I pick apart every little piece of me.
This hate, this self loathing,
Stems from my selfish desire,
To think of myself.