Don’t stare,
but
don’t look away

as if we don’t exist or
will disappear.

Don’t judge.
“So glad that’s not me”

It could be.

Don’t assume
“drugs”…”lazy”
“offer a dollar
it’ll go for *****”

You don’t know

Don’t presume to grasp
the reasons,
the whys the wherefores
don’t write us off
as useless,
worthless,

less…

If you can’t help,
don’t want to help,
are afraid to help,
don’t trust,

then

Just offer a smile,
A good wish or prayer

But acknowledge we exist,
we, too, are human.
We breathe, we feel,
We need…
trust and love,

Not disdain,
not even pity
if that is all you have
to give…

don’t…

I listen to a sad song, that's me
My porceline love so easy to break
pain too heavy to bare
****** are thoes who hurt me
Who caused these wet spots on my pillow
I am the victim of a broken heart
These lyrics speak sounds of my sorrow
I pity myself

I listen to a sad song, that's you
Your sensitivity I've abused
Sadness I couldn't imagine
****** am I for the pain I've caused
For the tears on your pillow they soak
I am the accused of heartbreak
These lyrics are of sounds I've ignored
And once again I pity myself

J.W

Giving others
the roses of your life
while holding them
by the thorns
is sacrifice
and
sacrifice is pity, not love.

My Feelings are pieces of paper,
crumpled,
With two feet trampled.
No one listens,
Nor see how my eyes glisten,
The tears remain in my soul,
Yet, with a smile I stand tall.
No one is aware of me,
What I perceive they never see.
My true feelings I am always hiding,
Cause my very own, only want to hear good tidings.
They are not interested in how I fare,
To tell the truth if I dare,
They think I want pity,
Leaving me alone and empty.
Everyone thinks I seek attention,
But all I want is connection,
A little understanding,
That is heart to heart,
A big hug for a start.

"I'm laughing, I'm crying
It feels like I'm dying"

All the times
I sit at the edge of my table
Thinking I'll be able
To break my face on it
My cute prepared outfit
White turned red
Like they said
I should just die
No one would show up to my party of tears
Three cheers for broken hearts

I
used
to
cut
when
I
would
disconnect,

but
now
I
think
I'm
hurting
you
instead.

Heres a little diddy
'bout my hopes and dreams
Take a little pity
on me please oh please
Tell me that I'll be fine
and you're the one
And that this is the last time
and I'll be done

I don't talk about my problems because I don't want my problems to become yours.
I don't want you to adopt my destructive habits and thoughts. The way I avoid questions and disguise bad situations.
I don't talk about the things I have had to experience, not because I don't want you to know those things about me, but because I know that they will change you. In some way. Maybe they will change the way you see me, the way you treat me, or maybe even the way you see the rest of the world and yourself.
I don't want to tell you every detail about my relations with men because I don't want you to fear them as well.
I don't want to tell you about the harassment and torture I endured throughout the years because I don't want to reveal the things that hurt me.
I don't want to tell you about my eating disorders and the way I think because I don't want to give you an instruction manual on ******* yourself.

I avoid becoming too personal with people because it makes me vulnerable. I do not favor being used.

I get irrationally angry when I see that my friends are going through the same problems as me. Maybe it is because I care about them, or it could be because I am jealous. I honestly don't know.

I feel like I am doing a lot and not enough at the same time, and I hate myself for it. I punish myself with restless nights of crying and bleeding, torture myself with challenges against successful people, push myself to the brink of pain and defeat because I know I am cable of being successful. So why do I not just do more?

I'm afraid to tell you
I'm afraid to show you

the skin beneath
the wrist up close
the bare thigh

I'm afraid that I want to tell you
I'm afraid for you to know

that every drunken night
I find myself in the bathroom stall
unsheathing my glistening release

to feel anything but lonliness