And I am tortured by regret,
things I've not done yet.
Thinking this defines me.

And I cannot deny
that I'm terrified
of fading to black.

I used to cherish every doubt--
now unsure in what I've found:
my instability was transparent
and now it's apparent...

And I now keep the lights on,
lay in a cold bath until warm.
My lips, so purple and svelte,
have sealed all I have felt.

And I stay a static transplant,
a homely nomadic infant,
stumbling towards the abyss,
thinking it's what I've missed.

I used to utilize the past,
stretching time, but at last,
the only fire I've consumed
will soon fade to black...

You are the music you listen to.
You are the books you read.
You are the people you meet and the friends you keep.
You are the energy you welcome into your life.

Embrace the world around you.

If money was not an object to be desired,
would you still do the things you do?
Or would you change the music,
dare to read something new,
challenge the impossible,
cross the lines and break the rules?

Look in the mirror and never stop asking,
who are you?

out of all the
universes and
worlds spinning
at ten million
miles per hour

i never thought
i would fall in
love with your
green eyes and
leather jacket.

*r.n

I’ve run out of reasons not to hate myself

5 years ago I tried to **** myself but I couldn’t

tie the right knot. I tied it around my neck

but it just kept slipping, like me, slipping like walking

on ice, like my tongue when I talk to you, slipping.

What a slap to my face huh? A suicidal kid

who wasn’t even smart enough to tie the noose

he was going to use to **** himself because

he felt he wasn’t enough, ever.

Failure: My story’s recurring theme

Migraines: My annoying next door neighbor

Migraine medication: His daughters (All 15 of them)

I kept making myself “better”

Stopped the cuts

No more pills

clean

But it came back

I tried to stop it, I really did

Happy. My motto memorized. Happy

Happy. Rehearsed and repeated. Happy

Well, 5 days ago I tried to **** myself. I wasn’t enough

Happy wasn’t enough.

This time I googled how to make a proper noose

wasn’t even that hard, really.

It was ready, I was ready, notes for everyone

tucked away in individual envelopes in my bag

and clear and concise instruction on where, when and to who

they should be sent to.

I would have died. Wrists, thighs, hearts, and eyes

carved

Deaf, I became deaf. From all the screaming inside telling me

to do it and the whispers outside not to.

5 days ago I had my head in a noose, ready to jump

Then you called asking how I was

“Bad, really bad.” I said

“Tell me about it” you replied

5 days ago I was about to **** myself but you stopped me

But you won’t always.

She was in love
With old books.
She was in love with
The way they smelled
As she flipped the pages
And felt the air hit her face.
She was in love with
The rough texture
Of the paper worn over time.
She was in love with
The yellowed tint of the pages
And the crumple of water spots.
She was in love with
The broken and tattered
Binding that crinkled
When you touched it.
But most of all,
She was in love with
The stories that not only
The words written in them held
But the stories behind each
Coffee stain and torn corner.
The idea that this book
Had connected with
So many other people
Enchanted her,
And she wondered if
Maybe she wasn't as
Strange and odd
As people told her.
And she thought that just
Maybe she wasn't as
Alone as she felt.

please stop romancing cutting,
depression, eating disorders,
anxiety and suicidal thoughts.
those things are not beautiful.

it is not beautiful waking up
every morning wishing you
weren't here.

it is not beautiful having to wear
long sleeves in the summer to
cover up the scars on your arms.

it is not beautiful throwing up
in the toilet just so you don't
gain another pound.

it is not beautiful missing school
for a month just because you
couldn't drag yourself out of bed
to see daylight.

but you can be beautiful with
cuts and scars all over your body.

and you can be beautiful even though
you aren't too happy about your weight.

oh, and you're still beautiful if you haven't
socialized with people for a couple weeks.

and you're still beautiful even though you
blew out your 16th birthday candles wishing
you were dead.

you're beautiful, but the things that you have done to
your body aren't.