Distorted edges

My soul is so desperate for someone to connect with. In it's search it found you. I know you can't for fill my expectations but I try desperately to push you into the place in my soul distorting it's edges and when that person comes along they won't fit there anymore. You break me and when I ask why all I get is a smile and three words "Because I can" and I know you're right.

The Lope

The more I write the better I feel.
The better I feel the less I write.
The less I write the worst I feel.
The worst I feel the more I write.
The more I write the better I feel...

What have you done?

When you close your eyes at night what do you see?
Do you see me standing there?
Am I broken?
Do you see your sins?
Or are you numb to those by now?
Do you see the lives you've ruined?
Do you give a DAM?
Do you see the anger?
Do you see the hurt?
Do you know what could have been for us?
How many lives have you ruined?
You were so good at it I couldn't have been the first.

I can't hear your lies

Because if I scream loud enough I can't hear your lies.
my broken voice almost out of sound gives its all to drown you out.
The world falls silent and listens.

I cough,
I'm out of sound.
Your lies pour in.
The world begins to speak but not against the injustice.
Everyone adds their own lie.

I try in vain to ignore them
But then I realize.
I have another way out
A way to scream without sound.
I WILL BE HEARD! YOU'RE LYING TO ME.

I'm going insane.

I love you
I hate you
I need you
I love you
Go away
But don't leave me
Maybe you should stay
But please just go away

Maybe I'm just going insane
Off and On Yes and No's
I need you... To leave...But always come back...
Don't leave me alone....

The Girl That Haunts You

I feel like shutting myself away from the world.
I want to be forgotten every trace of me erased from your minds.
I want to disappear in the whispering hours of the night.
And when you see me standing under the streetlight you'll know who I am.
You'll sit up straight in your bed tears streaming down your face and wonder my name.
You'll wonder if I know all your dark secrets.
Why do I keep showing up in your dreams?
Yet you can not put a name to me.
You don't know who I am.
I'm the girl that haunts you.

I don't want to die

I've realised I don't want to die. I want it to die. That thing inside of me that makes it hard to live. It tells me how horrible I am. How undeserving I am. How much of a whining ungrateful stereotypical little teenage bitch I'm being. When I catch a glance of myself in the mirror it puts on it''s evil smile, thoughts of how to end my life rush through me. I see a bloody gash in my trout and the blood socked knife drips the evidence on the floor. The wicked smile stretched across my face it's won. I often thought this might be the better option but I could never do it. I realise now I don't want to die. I want it to die.

Life shouldn't be about conforming to imagery rules.

Maybe I'm not doing it right. I thought it was supposed to be so much simpler than this. Living shouldn't be about over analyzing and regretting. It shouldn't be about feeling empty. It shouldn't be for others. It shouldn't be about conforming to imagery rules or doing things just to break them. I shouldn't be thinking about doing something as simple as going to the bathroom I should just excuse myself and go. I should relax. I shouldn't let living bother me so much. I shouldn't be so fascinated with dieing. Life should just be easier.

A whole lot harder to get at.

I know you thinking cutting a joke
Maybe you think it's cool
The whole tortured soul thing

Maybe you do it instinctively
Maybe your skin just looks so venerable and maybe you like the control

Maybe you thought you'd try it to mask the pain
And it's like a drug you've been hooked or will be soon

It's not a joke it's not a game and it's not cool.
Hide away your scares and put on a smile.
Put down the razor and stay for a while.


It's been a while since I've last cut but it's been tempting lately. My scares are almost gone just a few little dashes across the skin left.

A quote I read the other day: "But when it came right down to it, the skin of my wrist looked so white and defenseless that I couldn't do it. It was as if what I wanted to kill wasn't in that skin or the thin blue pulse that jumped under my thumb, but somewhere else deeper, more secret and a whole lot harder to get at.

If I were Perfect

I feel sick. But it's not a physical sickness. It washes over me and brings tears to my eyes.
Why can't I just be better? I need you to tell me you love me. I need you to hold me tight. But your words cut like glass and you touch burns like acid. Please don't say another word I can't hear your voice.

Every breath spreads the sickness. Every moment it gets stronger. If feeds off my faults somehow managing to create more. If I Were Perfect... But I'm not.

Maybe your not right

We all want to be different, unique.
We all want to fit in because being different is dangoures.
We all want to standout because we are our own person.

No one wants to be the weird kid.
No one wants to be the mindless conformist.

We all want our dream job.
We all have different skills.

Every one wants love.
Every one expresses it differently.

Every one wants a family.
Every one wants a different type of family.

We all want order.
We all want different roles in the order.

We all want a society
We all want our society

Maybe your not right...

Shatters Like Glass

A tear hits the floor and shatters like glass. Resembling her hope of happiness. She desperately tries to fit in to be happy but she can't break away from this feeling. Every last piece of her self respect has been replaced with hatred but she does it out of love. She hopes that one day she'll listen to the person inside of her. She knows it's right, She's just a wast of space and time, until she changes. It tells her how to change while reminding her how horrible she really is. But she also knows if she listens then she losses herself and every last thing she ever was. But maybe that's not such a bad thing?

She becomes obsessed

She becomes obsessed with her words. Wanting them to be perfect because she knows she never can be. They're the closest thing to perfection she'll ever achieve, yet there is so much wrong with them. She enjoys the praise. Loving when she's told they are beautiful, touching... meaningful. But she doesn't see it. Reading it over and over again she frantically looks for a way to improve before she finally hits the publish button feeling like a failure. Because she can't force them into perfection and they're the best thing about her. They have come to define her.

Family Time

Every "family" moment is killing me. Every time I walk into this house I die a little. I'm hoping for just ONE day I don't have to listen to the yelling. I don't have to put up with the put downs. I'm just waiting for the day I can be happy here because you're taking the happiness out of everything in my life.

Stolen

It's not going to change just because you want it to. If you keep letting it happen it will and soon it'll happen to you. Right you just turn a blind eye and let it happen because it's just the little things now but soon enough she'll take bigger risks. Her crimes will grow. And I use the word crime not in the literal seance but in reference to the fact they are immoral. Soon enough she'll have destroyed her soul... But that's ok because she's already Stolen mine.

A simple act of kindness

A simple act of kindness today from a girl I've never met. She lent me her calculator she got from the dollar store. When i tried to plan for giving it back she said keep it. She made me realise that in everyday society there are still average people who will just do nice little things to be nice. When I got to my chem class I heard some girl freaking out about not having a periodic table so I gave her my extra one and at the end of the test when she tried to give it back I said... keep it. It's contagious just a simple act of kindness can get it going.

Simple Changes

It's amazing how one 7 minuet film can actually change my outlook on life. While at the same time one look at reality can bring me back to my depressed state. It has me thinking maybe I should change my reality, then I realised the reason I don't is because I'm afraid. What if I don't like the new one I can't just hit the back button and erase it. So how do I achieve happiness? I really wish the next sentence I could write would start with the word simple but... it can't because I haven't figured that out yet.

I.Have.Stolen.

I have stolen. Your thoughts, your ideas, your hopes, your dreams. Or have you just simply stolen me? Are we really that much a like that we think and act the same. Or are we just that inspirational we've made it this way? Either way you are my inspiration.

My advice

I want to write something life changing. Something eye opening something to talk about. I want it to be the reason you smile if even for a moment. I want to pass on the advice I have from all the my years of experience. The only problem being I'm 16. I have no experience worth sharing in fact I'm still trying to figure out the world my self. But I'm afraid that when I turn 50 I'll have forgotten this moment. I'll have forgotten my desire to write something so inspirational that it may save you and maybe even saved me while writing it. So this is the only advice I have to give right now and hopefully be able to follow myself. Don't forget who you are, don't ever forget but don't remain something you don't want be. Be whatever makes you happy.

Liars

We're all just liars. The people you think you can trust, The people you love. They're liars and so are you. They start out small "how are you today?" "Oh I'm great" even though you've missed your bus. Then they turn big and they're done with intent. They become habit because a lie is easier than the truth and a lot less painful. Eventually you begin to lie to yourself because it's easier. But one day the truth is going to come through and your fragile little world you've created is going to shatter. You're no longer going to be able to say every thing's fine and believe it. That's when it ends that's when you stop lying to yourself and to everyone around you. But they don't want the truth it hurts them the way it hurt and still hurts you. So just as you would have they leave and you're forced to seek out the truth, alone.

The way it should end.

I often think of ways I can do it just to make it end. Last night as I drifted off to sleep I thought of holding that knife. Waiting until they went to sleep then locking my door. I would then stab my self in several places on my back and three times where my diaphragm ends, then I would cut off my left hand. Throw the knife into the wall hoping it would stick and the blood left on it would drip down. And with my last bit of energy I would lay on my back under the covers with my arm up top of them and my hand laying and inch away from where it should be attached. Then I would close my eyes and just give in.

Empty threats

My mind is full of empty threats. The stabbing motion of a knife. It jabs its way into my throat, slices down and turns, I Begin To Bleed. The door is locked, they won't find me until it too late.

The point of the knife is pressed to my throat when suddenly a sobbing mess appears in the mirror before me. She is shaking and tears stream down her face. It Is A Pathetic Sight. It's a pathetic person.

I'm afraid to be alone with myself, in case it takes over.
I'm afraid to be with others least it shows.

The missing piece

I've lived a pretty sheltered life. Grew up in a Canadian middle class family but there's something missing. There's just something not right about the way I live and every action seems like it's getting me further away from fixing it but at the time it feels like it's the right thing to do. I find it hard to believe that this is normal that people just go around excepting this kind of life. Why do we let these things destroy us?

Crudely drawn ink

Thoughts and feelings are rushing through me. I pick up a pen and let them flow into the black ink forming ruff words. That are everything I never wanted to think. Never wanted to feel. Never want to know. They’re my broken hopes and dreams. My dead desire. My lost soul. They are everything bad in the world. They’re everything bad in me.

Distractions

My distractions just aren't working any more. I just can't escape it. I already see the shine on the blade as it drives it self under my skin and into my chest. Looking for the source of this pain until it comes across a beating heart. "thump thump thump". I found it.

A locked heart

Once a heart is broken it can never be fixed only glued together with substandard glue and every time it breaks it shatters into smaller pieces. So we try to shield ourselves from the world. We barracked the doors and lock the windows but it’s only in the dark hours of the night when we’re between the conscious and unconscious the world breaks through. Then in a rush before you even realise what’s happened all your defences break and you find yourself sobbing. And guess what? You’re out of glue.

Energy

Do you believe energy can't be made or destroyed? Well I believe emotions are a form of energy. They can't be destroyed they can't be made. I also believe this form of energy can't be interchanged and when you feel something you've stolen that feeling from someone else. I finally feel happy, happier than I have in years. But I'm not the one that should be feeling this happiness, I don't deserve this kind of joy.

Love

If you’re close to someone nothing can keep you from loving them. And you can never really get over love. You can try to ignore it, try to make it into hate but you still love that person. Sooner or later you're not going to be able to keep up the game and you're going to see you love them. Weather they were your friend, sister, brother, parent or significant other, if you really love someone you'll still love them, it just might not be the same.

Even though we had a horrible fight and I hated you for a couple of years. I still love you and I honestly don't know how this whole fight started but I'm sorry. I just wish we still talked so I could tell you that.

Color Changes

I've made a few changed in color. If it's hard to read let me know.

Dream

Dust covered book recovered from your youth. Memories from when you use to dream. The musky sent fills the air. Breathe in the dust from you broken dreams. Open the book. And it splits at the seam. This was just a childhood dream. It was broken long ago and the page erased. Sow it back together or leave it broken. Refill the page. Rebuild your dreams.

Normal Teenage Girl.

Yes I am a normal teenage girl. I am not dieing. I am not sick. I no longer have cuts on my arms, on my legs, just the shadow of a scar. Yes I am a normal teenage girl. I burst in to tears and then hold them in. I've drown my soul. I cry my self to sleep and mutter I'm sorry I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm sorry for. I say I hate you without thinking but there's no one else around. Yes I'm a normal teenage girl.

To fight it's way in

I want to be happy. I've been happy. So where did that happiness go? In a rush it just left leaving me broken and defenceless. Now it has to fight it's way back in.

The Bus

Today on the bus there were two old strangers reminiscing about the good old days.

Broken

I am Broken.
But only on the inside.
The outside just has cracks.

What is it?

I just broke.

I gave into it and collapsed. It washed over me completely going through me. Leaving me cold with goosebumps.

So what was it?

What can make me cry out in pain? What can make me shudder with relief? What can make me wish for death yet yearn for life? What is it?

The Never Ending Darkness

A tare in the earth. A dark never ending hole awaits. The skies could over as if to say jump and wind begins to push. Some manage to crawl out and are born anew. But many have given their life to you.

You've driven me to the edge of the abis.

If Feelings Could Kill

If feelings could kill,I and many others would be dead. I would have died a few years ago. Only to come back to life for about a week but I died again tonight. A knife shot out of my heart and pierced my soul.

Looking out the Window

"Eyes are windows to the soul"

So what do you see when you creep through my window? Am I watching T.V. or writing for my blog. Are you watching me right now? What do you see? Are you looking for a mirror, hoping for an escape? If you stare too deep you may trap yourself.

What did you see when you were looking into my eyes? Did you see Love? Warmth? Safety? What was it that trapped you?

Originally Inspired

"Eyes are the windows to the soul"

How many times have you heard that before? Nothing is truly original anymore, it's just recycled from things we've heard in the past. We rewrite it, but it's still the same.

It's so hard to find inspiration. It's so hard to be original.

When we do find originality, we use suck it dry and recycle every last bit of it, until it's just the same old crap we've seen 100 times before.

A Beautiful Girl

I looked in the mirror this morning and saw a beautiful girl staring back at me. That girl became me and suddenly she wasn't pretty anymore.

A Familiar Pain.

The verses in this passage were written 20 minunets apart.

And then it hit.
Then pain that had been building inside me, had no where else to go.
It needs out.
Rudely it pushes its way up my throat, but it doesn’t want out that way.
Past my eyes some escapes.
The Rest?
Well it rushes back down.
The pressure begins to build again.
And there it will sit ignored until once again,
it grows beyond storing compassity and tries to escape.

And it sits not yet dormant,
The mixed feeling of pain, sickness and sadness rushes over me.
I do my best to suppress it and writing helps.

It never leaves,
It's always been there,
To torment me.
When I try to smile it laughs at me.
It knows it's fake,
It makes it hurt.