Copyright, Elyssa

Lost Without Hope

hiding from myself
Every day is a battle
hide the scars
hide the wounds
hide myself
from everything
Try to fight the addiction
try not to do it…
I need help
but I don’t know how to ask
I don’t know *what* will help
But the 2 things that would happen wouldn’t
so I stare.
I cower down and hide in the corner crying
What can I do to save myself? I’ve falled down and I can’t get up
The sun is shining, but I can’t see the light
I can’t do it.
I can’t stop.

I really don’t think I want to stop
I just know I need help
Someone to understand to care.
But nobody can
I’m stuck inside the wanting and yearning
the adiction is overwhelming

The scars spell out needing someone, but there is no one
I cry in the dark
I know I am beyond help
Please don’t let it get out of hand this time…
I need to take it…
One day at a time.


She’s in a crowded room,
with every single one of her friends.
She is wearing a new dress,
she just bought at the mall.
She looks around the room with a smile on her face,
wondering what her friends will think.
And suddenly, her face goes blank.
There’s no one in the room,
but a mirror that reflects the room all around her.
She doesn’t even see herself.
She falls to her knees and starts to cry.
She is alone now.
There is no one there to save her.
She looks around again and realizes she is in her own room again, with a sharp razor next to her.
She looks downat it and see’s her own reflection.
A worthless, small and ugly reflection.
A reflection that she hates.
She picks up the razor, and starts to feel better.
She smiles as the blood runs down her arms and legs.
She looks up again and she’s back in the room
looking into the mirror.
But this time she does see someone.
A girl, so lost and confused, that she’s crying out for help.
She’s bleeding from deep cuts that devour her whole body.
She falls to her knees again and realizes what she did.
She started shaking violently,
then woke up in her bed
realizing it was all a dream of what would happen,
if she let it all slip away…


Falling into a deep, dark hole,
That I know so well.
Creeping up beside me,
He tells me what to do.
I do not want to do it,
But he says that I must.
I reach for the glass,
And start to cry.
Once again he pulls me close to him,
And tells me I must start.
I open the door,
To expose the flesh.
And he smiles at the sight
Of the clear glass turning red
With the blood of my flesh.
As I watch the cuts start to form,
I start to smile.
The sorrows of my heart all leave my body with the blood.
I wash it all away.
Dieing inside…


Just let it sink right into my skin.
It gets my blood flowing.
It puts a smile on my face.
It’s making my heart beat,
Even though I know I’m already dead.
It’s making me feel,
Even though I’m numb to the world.
Just let the blade sink into my skin.
And let my blood flow over my flesh.
Now let my blood drip to the dirty ground.
You’re looking a little thirsty hun,
Why don’t you drink it up?


People change, Why can’t you understand that?
Thinks change, Why don’t you just except it?
I don’t care anymore.
Why don’t you let me be?
Stop telling me to stop.
I like it.
Don’t you see, it doesn’t hurt.
It makes me happy.
To see the blood run down my arms.
Stop it!
Stop saying that you understand.
You don’t.
Stop saying that you care.
I don’t want you to.
Stop saying that you love me.
I don’t want to hear it.
Just give me back the blade,
And let me cut for more.
Stop saying you don’t want me to do it.
Stop trying to make me feel bad.
Stop crying.
You aren’t making this easy.
Can’t you see I’m happy?
The pain, the blood, everything makes me smile now.
Stop saying bad things will happen.
They won’t.
You aren’t hurting me.
Stop saying I’m hurting you.
Stop trying to make me care,
I won’t, I don’t.
Just give me back the blade,
And let me cut for more.
I promise, this will be the last time.
I know I have said that before.
But I mean it this time.
Stop saying that you love me.
I don’t love you anymore
I love the blood.
Can’t you see the blood makes me happy?
Stop saying I’m hurting myself.
I’m not, it doesn’t hurt.
It’s only emotion.
The razor gives me the blood that I love.
It took your place.
You no longer make me happy.
Don’t say I don’t understand,
I do.
I love the razor.
I love the painless emotion.
I love the blood
I love it all.
It makes my pain go away.
Why won’t you go away and let me cry and bleed some more?


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