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What's beauty's value
Pretty souls don't have price tags
You can buy makeup
aaaand yet I still wish I were pretty. Idk, I hate to think I'm caving to society's pathetic values of beauty, but I just WISH I could be physically beautiful. It is always the physically gorgeous people who say "Everyone is beautiful inside!", but they don't know how it feels to be naturally UGLY. Then again, I still don't understand the logic behind it. I mean, beauty is something you can freaking BUY! You get some makeup and a beautician, some practice and you're set. One day, I personally want to find someone with a pretty soul, if they happen to have a pretty face too then that's great, but souls are the most important as far as I'm concerned. Those are things you can't buy, you need to make them yourself out of your choices and the values you choose to prioritize. Maybe that's just me, but you know. yeah. anyway.
Long Sleeves.
Always long sleeves.
Even the summer.


Who here gets it?
It doesn't mean you're "just cold".
repost if you get it.
I reread the same books over and over
And I don't care how many reasons you have to hate the series
These books are like people
Sure, they have flaws
But I love them for everything they are
I see their beauty, not their mistakes
I will always love them
Because they were my escape
When everything was crumbling
They were my friends
When people weren't
And rereading them
Reminds me
Of how beautiful it was
To escape
I don't care if you hate them
Just like people, if you don't like them, leave them alone
No on is forcing you to associate yourself with them
You don't need to go around spreading news about their flaws
Because you have many of your own
My emotions
Are connected to those books
Because they saved my life
So leave them alone
sick of hearing what is "wrong" with the books that got me through suicidal times
Even though you're cut and hurt
Remember
Beautiful flowers
Are the ones people choose to cut
and keep
Motivation, I guess.
I want to get so drunk, when someone asks me how drunk I am, I answer "yes".

Partly for fun, and partly to learn what it's like not be me for a minute.
I just need to figure out how not to get caught, that's all. This is partially depressing but it's mostly just out of curiosity and the desire to get drunk for the fun of it.

How do you cover up evidence that you drank? Like the scent of alcohol and stuff. Anyone have some tips?
Like, if I had whiskey how much relative to your body weight do you need to drink to be drunk? And how long until you get sober again?
When you hear about it, you just shake it off
Shake it off like it’s nothing
You know about it, then shrug and go on
But have you ever thought about how they felt
How they felt when they swallowed the pills
Overdosing
When they ate and gave it up again
Over and over
When they went through bottle after bottle
Slipping farther away
When they took the blade, and dragged it over their wrist
Slitting the veins
Have you never thought about what it is like
To pick up a blade, to drag it over your skin
Letting the sting register
Watching, with a sick fascination, as the beads
The beads of crimson blood drip down your arm
Mixing with the tears pouring
Pouring, as you know, you know you’re not good enough
When you realize that you don’t belong
When you realize that you shouldn’t be alive
And you slit the veins
Repeatedly, hoping for it to happen, wanting to leave
Knowing that no one will care
That no one will miss you
Then you come to the prison
The prison called school
Where all you feel is everyone staring at you
Still thinking that you’re just some ******
Some creep that doesn't belong
They don’t know how hurt you are inside
They don’t know how much their words have pierced you
They don’t know that you want them to notice
That you want them to care
You just tug at the sleeves of your sweater
Even though it’s a hot summer day
Just tell yourself that it must stay on
That they can’t know
But they must know
And they might ask you about it
Why you’re different
Why you’re changed
Antisocial
And you want to tell them
You want someone to care
But you lie through your teeth
You lie as you feel the pain start to come
And you know that the lies are the only way to make it out
To make it out without more taunts
And before you regret anything, you go
You go and blend with the crowd
Already wishing you had said something
Anything
Just to keep someone there
Hoping that maybe someone would come
That someone wouldn’t want you to go
But the day drags on
And you just get more side glances
Snickers behind your back
And you finally run home
And burst into the bathroom
Where they wait, shining
Whispering your name
And you know that someone
Someone needs you there
And, already feeling the rush of emotion
You throw off the sweater, the armband
And you pick up the little blade
So much malice
So much relief, in something so small
And just push it into the soft flesh on your arm
Then drag it slowly
Letting yourself feel it
Make it be a punishment
For not being enough
For being a failure
For not being wanted
And you think back, back to the start of the day
When you just wanted to ask a simple question
When they told you to shut up
When they told you they didn’t care
When they told you to jump off a bridge
To just end your life
And as you sit there, hair falling over your face
You just see the earlier scars
Some thin and white
Some thicker, like little knots in your skin
And you go over them, over and over
Until your arm is covered in blood
And you just watch it
Letting it smear
Get on your shirt
Your shorts
And with every slice
You tell yourself not to be such a coward
To just face it
To do it
Because this is the relief
This is what you wait for all day
This is all that goes through your mind all day
Every day
The relief, once you’re alone
When you can hurt yourself, as much as you can
Because you hate yourself so much
Because you just want to leave
And it’s a relief, it really is
No one will understand
When you were younger
And you read about it
You heard about it
You thought how hard it must be
To hurt yourself knowingly, on purpose
But once you start
You can’t stop
Because it’s an addiction
And you can’t break free of its iron grip
And nothing anyone ever says will change it
We all say things we might not mean
We tell people that they are losers
That they are useless
That they should die
But there are people, sensitive, that will take it
The wrong way
Or maybe the right way
You don’t know their power
Their kindness
Until you experience it yourself
As you sit shaking, shuddering, wanting it to end
And they stay with you
Keeping you under control
Changing your mind
Saving a life
Just remember that everyone is hiding something
Whether it be a dark past
Or the loss of someone to suicide
Or the saving of a life
Or the want to slit yourself over and over
Everyone hides something
And in this room
There are doubtlessly several dark secrets
We all say it
We regret it
Or we don’t
I say it so many times
I regret it so many times
I don’t mean it
And you may have noticed
Or maybe you haven’t
Maybe you have and just didn’t bother saying anything
But I hide something
And I’m tired of lies
I’m tired of not having the truth out
I’m tired of having to hide it from everyone
Even my own family
Even the ones that I am supposed to trust the most
I can’t trust them
I can’t trust anyone
I’m too scared
But I’m tired of cowardice
I’m going to break soon
And keeping it in is too much strain
I can’t keep living like this
Maybe I’ll just let the world know
Or maybe it will never know
But some day….I’ll break
And maybe someone will come
And someone will regret something they said
But it’ll be too late
So just think about it
Suicide isn’t funny
Suicide isn’t a joke
Suicide isn’t romantic
Suicide isn’t attention seeking
Suicide isn’t something you just read on the news
It’s something that should be taken seriously
Suicide is real.
This I also wrote last year, for school. I shared it with my whole class. Seriously, don't be as rude as one person was.
Soft breath
Once on my face
Gone
Only a whisper
Of longing
Lingers
Reminding me
You were here
I close my eyes
And I feel your presence
Close to me
Though you are far away
I wish it hadn't happened
But I couldn't prevent it
I am so sorry my love
That I lost you
This poem is about my ex-girlfriend who left me after the whole bashing my head into the keyboard incident. Another sloth wanted her and she went with him, which resulted in her getting pushed from a tree and falling to her death. This poem is serious for all those haters that didn't enjoy my poetry. If you think I am just some stupid sloth, you shouldn't have read this note. As a wise rabbit once said, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
vs.
it's a shame
that we cannot
appreciate
what others have
without comparison
word: shame
Smiling is a thing that takes less muscle then being upset.
You can easily put on a smile and say you are happy.

Then why does it seem that it’s easier to be sad?
Why does it seem like it’s easier to shoot for sadness,
Than happiness?

Sadness is intoxicatingly painful,
But happiness is like glitter and butterflies.

But why do we choose the pain over the happiness,
And not glitter and butterflies over pain?

It just seems to be easier this way,
We choose the hard road over the easier.

Maybe that's just human nature,
We enjoy difficult over easy.

But it hurts more in the end,
Why do we choose it though?

We choose to be in pain,
Versus being happy.

Why would we choose this?

Because it seems to be an easier thing,
Happiness,
As odd as this sounds,
Is harder to handle.
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