Cold and weak
happy and strong,
my life is dark but i must go on,
you look at me and ask me why,
i fake a smile, but inside i cry,
anger grows on me everyday,
i get home and take it out in my own special way,
i am mad at you, but i hate me,
the day is comming where i will be set free.
i take my bladde and cut my arm,
it helps me out, there is no harm,
i close my eyes as my arm cryes tears of blood,
what will i tell people?
i fell in the mud?
they probably wont ask,
i put the blade away and put on my invisable mask,
cold and weak,
happy and strong,
my life is dark but i must go on.
make it stop, i just want to be free,
im scaired, im crying, stop doing this to me!
is it your fault that i feel this much pain,
or is it me blamming you so that i sound sane?
i hate you and thats no lie
i am sick of you always making me cry,
i take my razer and cut it deep,
i watch the blood drip down to my feet,
with trembling hands i drop my blade,
i sit here crying… so afraid
afraid of you, afrade of life,
afraid of me now reaching for the knife.
I am 30. I never thought I’d be alive right now. I thought I’d get put down, like a rabid dog, a long time ago.
I am not perfect. I am not beautiful. I am overweight. I am going nowhere.
I am told I am someone, though I don’t believe anyone.
I am told I am great at what I do, though I know they are just wanting something from me.
…something they don’t want to do or have.
My heart aches and my soul is is sewin togethor with blue stitches.
My lover told me one night when he was drunk that all his girlfriends are better then me.
He said they have better bodies than me.
HE said they are not as moody.
He said they are not “weird”.
He said he loves me.
He said he is sorry.
He said he didn’t mean it.
I know he is lying.
I pretended it didn’t bother me.
I said it was ok.
I said well I will work harder.
I drove away into the dark that night.
I have a box cutter on my keychain.
I have it there because he gave it to me.
He said he didn’t want my to break my hands up punching the boxes open at work.
I drove past my dead brothers house, his widow is cracked up with a new man there.
I drove by an old dream and thought to myself how dumb I am.
I took that box cutter and I cut and cut and cut.
I kept driving…
I kept crying…
I pulled down my sleeve and felt the warmth run down into my jacket.
I can breath.
I go home and go to bed.
…that was Saturday.
And so it is with me
Hurting with no one who sees
Hurting with no one but me
And I don’t know why
And I don’t know how
It’s always the same
Just me and my knife
In all those old ways
With never a meaning.
And I wish I didn’t hurt
That I could see through it
But it’s going down hill
Winding and twisting
It’s going down hill
And I’m on the ride.
Through these eyes ive seen pain
through this skin ive felt hurt
through my life ive known betrayel
Though my life is not complete
My pain will not heal
the hurt not made better
those who have betrayed, not forgiven
yet my life is not complete
there is something missing
happiness is not there
Lost somewhere along the way
now has found its way home
and righted all the wrongs
what if nobody cared
what if nobody noticed
drew blood to heal the pain
to relieve the pain of knowing that you aren’t perfect
compared to the super model image
that has been ingrained in all of our minds
you are not nearly perfect
but according to society
we must all be perfect
none of us will ever be perfect
no matter how skinny, beautiful, or smart you may be
none of us will ever be perfect
Doodles on my Arm
Others doodle on paper, or school books
Other doodle with pens
Others doodle because they’re bored
Show the doodles to their friends
I doodle on my pale arms
I doodle on anything sharp I find
I doodle because I can’t live without
No one sees my doodles, they’re mine
My doodles remind me, I have to save myself
They remind me There’s nothing I can do
They tell me Someone must love me
They tell me the whole world hates me
My doodles are doodles of hate and anger, My doodles make me want to die… Other’s doodles are silly drawings, My doodles are my life
I stand here screaming as loud as I can
No one turns round to see how I am
No one will ever care hat I’m here
I might as well not be, I live in fear
Fear for the bitchiness and harted yet to come
People stabbing me in the back,
They’re all scum
Not even my friends (friends? like shit!)
See me trying to climb out of this bottomless pit
A pit of lies and back-stabbing bitches
This aint like no movie you see at the pictures
This is me, that’s right, i’m here, I’m here
I have feelings too, let me make it clear
My school is the never ending Jerry Springer show
All i want is a life, just leave me alone
I wish it was all over, I wish i was gone
I’m not saying i was right, ‘cause i know i did wrong
But what i did is nothing compared to your shit
These marks on my wrist are what you did
I know I’m not perfect, In fact far from it
At least i treat people like more than shit
Maybe you’re right… Maybe I am just a pathetic bitch. Maybe I am what you tell me I am. Maybe you would all be happier without me. Maybe it’s best if I go. I’m too scared to live, and too scared to die. All I can do is leave scars, and no matter what I do to myself, no scars are like the ones you’ve made on my heart.
At night i sit alone,
afraid of what i want to do,
the moonlight spills across the floor-
the only light in my room.
angrilly my mind flashes back to every bad thing
that happened today,
and almost without thinking,
i draw out my friend,
my razor blade.
visions flash through my mind-
of those who hurt me,
of those who don’t care.
atear rolls down my cheek,
and my eyes wander over to the mirror.
what i see makes me hate myself even more-
that selfish,unlovable freak staring back at me.
i tear y gaze away,
and turn to my friend.
always there when i need it,
helping,and killing me.
i raise it to my wrist,
and cut over every scar i already have.
i look down in satisfaction at my corrupted arm,
at the red blood trickiling out,
it doesn’t seem fair that i have to do this to feel even slightly in control.
but thats how it is.
Again i raise up the blade,
and slice up my arm some more.
deep,angry lines cover my arm,
and i lie back in relief.
yet i don’t feel completley content-
i need to cut more-
but i force myself away from those thoughts,
and turn up the musid real loud.
i wish someone would notice,
understand my pain,
but there’s no one,
and i can’t hide from it anymore.
it fills my head,
screaming at me in silence,
untill it becomes unbearable.
i feel so alone-so afraid.
i don’t even care what i do anymore,
life just happens as it does.
suicide can’t be the end to all this suffering.
it seems nothing can help me anymore.
a puddle of blood sits spilt on the dirty ground,
sneering at me,
laughing at me,
coz i couldn’t contain myself,
weak and helpless,
yet unbearably angry i sit,watching my life trickle past me,
and the urge to die becomes stronger.
so i sit there,
in silent agony,
willing it to go away.
but it doesn’t,
and it never will.
In front of the mirror
I stand and cry.
Naked and scarred,
I want to die.
The cold razor sinks
as it slices through.
I let out a sigh,
a mark that’s new.
But that blood’s not enough,
so I draw again.
Not thinking about family or friend.
Canyons grow as the blade is drawn,
and I bleed
and bleed till dawn.
Beaded jewels of crimson hate
Seep silently from the wound,
Shattering as they kiss the ground,
The perfect picture; ruined
The quick release of the painful bite,
And then suddenly it’s gone,
The screaming voice of the silent heart
Again, the addiction is reborn
The rubies sparkle in the light
The stolen treasures of dreams
The stinging slice of the hurtful hand
Transparent as it seems
The mask of lies covers the scars
And the mirror of truth has been smashed
The films of every future’s past
The realities of imagination, trashed
Loving hate and hating love
And seeking out the pain
The sharpened claws grasp at the skin
And leave a bloody stain
The boarder has been over-stepped
The fine line has been crossed
The scarlet doves have been released
And forever they are lost.