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Some fears are paralyzing




1. We need to talk


2. A random text message from him


3. Passcode incorrect
The password being wrong is usually the result of caplocks but it is a moment of panic
To the girls who are secretly so broken
You WILL be alright
I know you have scars on your soul
Maybe your heart
Possibly your wrists
None of this is your fault
And even if you think it is
Let it go
Not that you can, that easily
But try
I know you are broken
I know you're not okay
Especially when people ask how you are and you answer "I'm fine"
When what you really mean is "I'm alive"
But what do you really care about your own survival anymore
Well I just want you to know
There is beauty in broken glass
And to me
There is immeasurable beauty
In broken girls
So don't you ever forget
You cannot be defined by pain
You're too beautiful for that
Stay strong, broken girl
Nothing is ever really broken
Repost if you are a broken girl. So this message may reach as many of you as possible.

I am here for you. I may just be a sloth but if you message me: I'm fine.
Just randomly it will be our code for "I'm not fine at all" and I will be there for you.
Babe,
your name
has always looked
loveliest
written
in red.
Saw your mom today.
- - -
Do you remember what you learned that October?
i used to think there would never be enough people like you and I,
we were singing together when i told you that you were the only friend i needed.
but now i only think of you in past tense.

what a shame,
what a misadventure it was to know you.
I've never seen a light more blinding than the one that was forced into my vision when i heard about you,
even in all those years that we spent in the sun.

i like to think that you're not as terrible as you've proved yourself to be,
but i don't know how not to confuse compassion with weakness,
or the distinction between forgiveness and forgetting.

so many of our secrets will forever remain in this small town,
memories of us live on every part of your street.
Christmas came back around all too fast this year and
i keep finding the pieces of myself that i gave away buried in the ornaments we hung together.

i don't have enough time to pretend i'm not hurting,
and i don't have enough heart to feel sorry for you.
more than the clouds want the dying grass to know that they will pour all they have to bring them life,
more than the moon wants to bring full light to our darkest nights,
i want you to know
that i am not sorry.
thanks for reading,
take the time to comment if you wish.
hope you're all enjoying your holidays.
**
A simple crash is all it took
To encourage a nervous and curious look
Into the bathroom where my mother lay
A blood bath around her, in the middle of the day.

Oh honey, please just look away
You should not see this, please do not stay.


Self-help never works, I could finally see
As she covered her tracks, her eyes never leaving me;
But the evidenced razor lied on the floor
And the pile of pills poured out by the door.

Oh baby, please do not let your father know, too
He wouldn’t understand, the way that you do.


And all of my words held deep inside
Hung on my tongue, my lips were dry.
All of the times you spoke only through words
Left me so confused, viewing life backwards.

You are beautiful, and just so pretty
it is the inside that counts, don’t be so petty.


Oh but momma, can’t you see
How do you expect me to love me?
When you have so much hatred towards yourself?
Enough to clear off the medicine shelf,
Enough to starve, binge, and purge;
You always told me to have some courage.
Enough to cut into yourself: thin and long lines;
You always told me, we would be fine.

But how could this painful sight be so?
Please bow now, mommy, an award for your show.
Disclaimer: This is not a direct representation of my life, by any means. This is fictional and something that came to me randomly.
It's funny how you never cared                
when I told you I was falling      
      until I actually let you in close,
                    close enough to see it happen.
Maybe that moment wasn't as beautiful as I thought it was.
I ******* hate myself.
 Dec 2014 heather leather
Emisen
There are wolves in the classroom.
They sit and stare
watching, waiting
sniffing the air for a hint of blood.

Remember Red

There are wolves in the classroom.
You have to tread carefully, cautiously
Lest their teeth
Sink into your soft flesh.

There are wolves in the classroom
Whimpering, growling and howling,
Gently now, be wary now

*Remember Red,
Remember.
a day in the life of a teacher :)
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