On top of the roof The air so cold and so calm I say your name in silence You don't wanna hear it right now The eyes of the city Are counting the tears falling down Each one a promise of everything you never found.

Chains Pale Little Girl, Mind gone mad, Chains binding her, Crying as she is sad. Tears stain her face, The chains rusted with age, How long has she been here, Trapped in this cage? Rattling the bars, Screaming for help, This poor little girl's, Heart will now melt. Don't feel sorrow, For this small child, Don't feed her now, Her rage will go wild. For inside this girl, A monster remains, This human illusion, Covered Bloody stained. Killed all her family, In cold-blooded tide, Possessed by a monster, Lost the human inside. Her soul is long gone now, And all that is left, Is this sad girl's body, And heart ready for theft. But you feel sorry, For this cute little child, Don't look in her eyes, She is not so mild. Don't undo that lock, Please, forget these pains, Don't pity the child, Don't loosen those chains.

To Write Love On Her Arms - Self Injury

To Write Love on her Arms - Self Injury

She couldn't take it anymore
just let the blade bite in
let all her pain and hurt flow out
the penance for her sin

Theres no hope for her in this world
not one more heart to care
the pain is now her only friend
the blade is always there

So next time just turn and walk away
like everyone before
and let this pain flow out of her
until there is no more

Then empty as the lifeless gaze
from everyone she see's
she'll wonder through this life alone
and never knowing peace.

You could be her only hope
so don't just let her pass
give your love this very hour
for it could be her last.
-Sheldon Robinson

Abuse Twisting, turning, thoughtful thinker. Struggle in bed, don't go to sleep, Close your eyes, don't make a peep. He is back and hunting his ground. Open your slits through which you see, A life at its conception. The tear of pain open for all but me. Thrust up your arm, escape. Wailing, moaning, flashing, speed. A life time of torment ends in pain. Eternally yours, forever mine, An alternate reality down the white lane

Numb I stand under the blast of the shower Hoping the pressure will strip the numb away But the pounding water on my skin only drives it deeper in The blade makes my skin leak rubies that I don't really need So I try to force things like 'love' and 'compassion' Into the space left behind but they only fall out again And all that's left is more room for 'pain' and 'sorrow' To grow and leave me feeling bloated with 'agony' Painkillers call to me, trying to convince me that everything hurts But I ignore them while I pity them because They're only trying to fulfil their purpose, And without their purpose they'd only be empty capsules of sugar With no other reason than to rot the teeth that you Smile so prettily through Contact with others always left me drained and unable to release any more; They just don't see what they're doing to me. It's my heart, damn it, give it back so I can Entrust the needle and thread to someone else Who's better at putting me back together You're too willing to open up to me and trust me, Because I'm so devoid of secrets that you Fill me up with yours and skip away unburdened while I struggle with your baggage, but then I always was stronger than you

Cutting Cutting is like, An addicting drug. Once you start, You can't stop. My advice: Don't start, Just don't.

+He+ It's a fucked up thing, When you realize he doesn't care. He says I love you. I began to believe it, But now, All I feel is that emptiness. Neither he, Nor anyone else can fathom it. Or understand it. My emotions go down the drain. My intense monotony comes back. I turn into a burnout. Trying to retract, From the cave borrowing into my chest. Slowing shaking, And quaking. Bringing more rocks down with the tremors. I wonder if he cares. No, I know he doesn't. Hell, He isn't even capable of missing me. No move has been made to speak to me. No move has been made, To show he cares about me. Though, it's nothing new. Just the usual ignorance towards my feelings. He'll just brush right over it. Say, "She's just stupid, It's not my fault." I wish you would see. What you do to me. You make me numb to my emotions. Falling into an ever continuing supply of black. You're asinine way of showing me 'love.' It doesn't have anything behind it. You lie, And lie, And lie. Until I'm lying on my back. Staring at the sky. With no life, Behind my milky white eyes. He wouldn't care, Anyway. THE END

+Scream+ I know, Puking isn't pretty. Even if it does make me skinny. And all I ever wanted to be, Was pretty. So then, why do I do this? I've never had a problem, With avoiding the spores. That come from other's jealous lips. Wanting to stand out, but being afriad. Yet, I can't ignore these. This... Fungus. That leeches it's way into my brain. Going through my ear canal, And attaching it's rotten self, To my already reeling brain stem. Twisting it's slender tail, And strangling me. Smacking me into reality, That reality, That I'm fat. And always will be. But, this urchin will help. It will tell me, "Everything will be O.K., Just use this brush, And ignore the savory odors, Along with the delicious sights. And it'll all be alright." I obey. Giving myself up to this beast. Smiling as I'm slaughtered. Trying to ignore the pain. Trying to turn into a masochist, So I can atleast draw some pleasure from this. But, I know that won't happen. Because my parasite, Denies everything to me, Unless it ends with an ear-piercing, Glass shattering, Scream. THE END

+I Found My Fear+ I have long wondered, What in the world my greatest fear is. Is it the dark? No, I sleep in the dark. Is it being suffocated? No, I sleep under the covers. Is it being confined? Possibly, but I lean towards masochism. I sift through my mind. Dilligently trying to see beyond, My concious. Something that has given me hell, And gotten me out of it. Yet, It never tells me anything, About my greatest fear. The fear that will make my bones shiver, And my fingers quiver. My body will be restless, With the meer thought of it. But, I have not the faintest idea what it is. Then, There I was one day. Eating a small piece of Easter candy. I ran my hand over my stomach. I was bloating, Long side affects from my oncoming period. I swallowed the candy. How evil it was. I set the wrapper away. Not daring look at it. I walked infront of my mirror, Looking my straight body over. And in that moment I knew. Gaining weight, Was my greatest fear. THE END

+I've Lost You+ I's losing you. To my bad moods, Evil attitude, And cynical personality. You're having convictions forced down your throat, Atleast that's what it seems. Your family not being able to accept, That you're different. I point this out, And show my anger. My anger, Which is always there. My annoyances, Go beyond extraordinary. Nothing makes me happy, I mean, how can Lucifer be happy? He constantly stuck within a fiery hell. As am I. You've fallen away from me. I wonder if we're actually together, Or just barely glued to one another. It's easier for you to say, "I love you, baby" Over type than even over the phone. And I will warn you all now, I say all these things with remorse. Because it definitely does hurt, To ruin something irreplaceable. THE END

+Inspired+   I wish I wasn't always wrong.    I wish it wasn't always my fault.    The finger that you're pointing,    Has knocked me on my knees.    And all you need to know is,    I'm so sorry, it's not like me. __ My life is a whirl, As well as a swirl, Of confusing and complicated things. I try so hard to understand, Every little happening around me. And when I fail, My insecurities get the best of me. Are they better, Smarter, More able, Than I? My effort goes beyond that of, Extraordinary. As I stumble, Trip, And fall. I look above me. Past the stars, And through the heavens. Into that which is far away from my grasp. But not that of impossible. For nothing is impossible, In this great wide world. I just beg whatever higher power, For it not to always be my fault. For me not to always be wrong. For me, To be confident. My heart aches. Seething with want, To be sure of myself. Thinking, "I can do this! I won't fail!" But that has an invisible possibility of occuring. I hurt others, With my self esteem. Causing fights with my insecure emotions. I lose trust and faith, Almost destroying relations. With no good explanation. I just wish, That my heart would not always be in pain. Longing for that confidence, That will empower everyone else, As well as my collapsing self. THE END

+Remission+ I've never been much of a whiner, Or an unjustified complainer. But this is different. This is very… Strange. I have an odd tingling within. Sparking in my rib cage. Throwing embers at my heart. The sizzling is loud and intruding. I feel… Full. Not empty, And void of life like usual. But like I have a soul. Like I could shout to the world, "Fuck you and everyone else, too!" Why? 'Cause I'm joyful. Excitement is flowing through my veins. Poisoning every cancerous cell in my body. Killing every thorn. Saturating every weed with lye. I don't have to swallow my depression anymore, Because it's no longer there. It's in remission. Lurking, Plotting, Pouting. In a corner of my mind where the spiders are. The gigantic tarantulas and pythons. Hairy, and scaly. Where the monsters take refuge. The part of my mind that comes out, To defend me. The weaponry is unsheathed. My teeth become bared. But, I hadn't the need for such precautions. At least, not lately. The swords and guns have grown dusty. My fangs are dull and worn. All of my guard has been let down. As I try to let myself out, In a vicious attempt, To see through the shadows. THE END

+Terrible Mistake+ I gave you something glorious. Something treasured. Something more important to me than anything. No, Not my virginity. Nothing like that. But, I gave you my trust. My trust is what others yearn for. And you took it for granted. You took it, And threw it away. Slaughtered it with a freshly sharpened machete. Skinned it alive. Broke it into a million tiny pieces. There's no hope of putting it back together. No hope, For anyone anymore. This was the last time, That I will ever make the same mistake. What was the mistake? It's not a very big one, In a different person's eyes. But, In my mine, It's like shooting someone in a drunken stupor. You wonder what mistake, Could be the equivalent of manslaughter. Well, It's simple. I trusted someone. THE END

+Right and Wrong+ Lips are at my ear, Telling me what I don't need to hear. Whispering everything that I loathe, Into my desperately listening conscious. It gives me that one last push, Over the edge. Falling off of the rocky point, I tumble down into the depths of hell. Your hand has done this. Your hand, Has caused me this pain. I wish you saw through your veil. Would see my face and touch my cheek. I wish you would just say, "I'm sorry." With a simple lyric and a tender touch, You can change the world. But I will say, No matter how much you push, Kick, Hit, And smack me with your words. I do not ever, Direct my thoughts towards my skin. The pale skin underneath my palm, Is never the victim of my negativity. Nor shall it ever be. I see all of you out there, Who hurt their body for release. Disfigure their appendages, And damage their psyche even further. I preach to your minds, That is not the right way. It may make you feel ecstatic, And euphoric, At the time. But it will not resolve the issue. Your blood is not a magic potion. Once dripped from your veins, It will not change your life. Pay attention to my words. My speech is not an empty rhetoric. So as I preach, I say one thing. Cutting is not the answer, Nor ever will be. THE END

Re-Enabled May I leave a whisper around your ear Dodge My words and escape that boring sound A cold drift of air hits your face again Dig Holes to find that flat attraction I never missed that moments we shared I have the Bow But you have no arrow I'm already hit in the heart Its broken I have my hands to hold it You don't have the glue for stitching it I wonder if I ever needed you why did I called you darling That can't be Love I had a single moment of revelation Till I die again I aim so high you could not reach with your eyes After all I found a way to compete with myself You Just found a way to get me on my knees I wonder if I ever Loved you I gave you my heart That can't be a human life Cannot or am I wrong Live on or cast away The moments we shared Every single breath I took with you Every little word I said I take it back It never counted that much for you I swear I won't make the same mistake again

H a t e She hated her eyes She hated her nose She hated her hair And her smile too She hated her arms She hated her legs She hated her stomach Her breasts and butt too She hated her school She hated the drama She hated the lies And the truths too She hated her tears She hated her pain She hated being numb And her scars too She hated her life She hated it all She hated herself Until he proved He Loved her.

Bigorexia Hitting the gym seven days a week, never big enough; way too weak. Don't care if it hurts, just got to walk it out. Consuming big meals, in need of protein. Always in the mirror, hating the reflection. Using steroids like no tomorrow. Just wanting to be big, big, BIG!

+Food+ "Are you hungry?" "...No." "Have you eaten yet?" "No." "Do you want something to eat?" "No." "Are you sure?" "...Yes."

The Mask

The Mask

Put a smile on




and die inside.

The Anorexic I don't want to be one of them. I'm not that girl that looks in the mirror and sucks in her stomach. I've never been the one to complain about my body. Despite that, I've become the one I've always frowned upon, that stupid teenager that thinks she is soo fat. I'm the one being discarded by everyone sensible who knows me, and the one that friends no longer have the patience to be with. I'm the anorexic. Damn it. I stand in front of my reflection and put my hands on my belly. It is swollen. Huge. I hate myself for thinking it. This is stupid. 20-year-olds don't get anorexic. Only teenage girls do. The immature ones. Not us. Not the grown-ups. Or so I thought. Damn it. I know that this is a disease, at least that is what my shrink tells me. She also tells me toeat. She doesn't know what she is asking me. The scales determine just how much I am worth today. One pound up, worthless. One pound down, better. Every day starts with this determination. I walk through my life at the mercy of the scales. Damn it. This isn't me. You're sick. What you're thinking is a part of your disease. Look at all the other girls. They are just like you. Just like you. Just like you. Yes, just like me. The words of my therapist echo in my head. I'm just like the other anorexic and bulimic girls. But I have never thrown up. Can you believe it? I can't even imagine doing that on purpose. I mean, the teeth would corrode, irreparably. Don't get me wrong, I have found other ways to compensate for my eating. Though I sometimes wish I would throw up on purpose, I use exercise instead to get rid of all the calories. That works. When people find out I starve myself, they assume I puke my guts out. I have to tell them no, I don't. They do not believe me. They think I'm lying. I shouldn't care. They can think whatever they want. They have no idea what I am going through. I had no idea what anorexia was like. I did not know, for example, that you can't even drink without wanting to curl up and die. The anxiety over the calories is overwhelming. The angst creeps into your system and explodes inside. I want to scream, and I run and run to burn off the fat from my body. The only thing I can allow myself to ingest without hating myself is water. And so I drink, I drink and drink and drink, to sate my hunger. It is useless. Anorexia. It is so different than I ever imagined it could be. I had no idea that you can hardly speak to people without feeling below them. That even a minor comment about my food plate or my body could trigger the anxiety and coerce me to workout for hours. Damn it. How did I get here? My friends have left me, my family doesn't understand me. None of them knows how to handle me, so they don't. I don't have the strength to have relationships with anyone. I live inside my own bubble. I can barely stand without collapsing. My heart is beating way too slow, but I am too frightened to care. My parents tell me I'm skinny as hell, but I can only see obesity. Another thing that I do not understand is that people don't see that I have an eating disorder. I want to yell out loud for help, because no one seems to perceive that I don't eat. Granted, I have become quite adept in manipulating others that I'm fine, but shouldn't there be a crack somewhere? If I'm so skinny, why won't people understand that something is wrong with me? It doesn't matter. I am nowhere where I want to be, either way. This isn't life. I am striving for something that I can never achieve. I will never be slim enough. This makes me a bad person. This makes me worthless. Everything in my life is centered around my weight, but I don't understand why. Another thing that I didn't know about is the heaven in the middle of the hell that is anorexia. As long as I can adjust my diet, I am in control. I can never leave that behind. I am hungry, I am starving, but I ignore it for as long as I can. And when I do, I know I am in control of myself. This achievement defines me as much as the scales, and I am someone. I have a personality – I am the one that starves. I have a goal – to weigh as little as possible. I am the one that doesn't have to eat. This knowledge provides a small portion of bliss. One that I can never consider living without. Also, I am numb. There is a complete lack of emotions within me. Yes, there is anxiety, but it runs automatically, not vividly like anger or hurt. I feel nothing. It is a wonderful thing, because I don't have to deal with all the painful things that put me in this position in the first place. I love this part of the disorder. Still, I stand in front of my mirror again, loathing myself. I think of the other girls, who are just like me. I feel sorry for them, because I know what they are going through. I feel for them, but... I don't want to be one of them. I turn my back to my reflection, being too ashamed to face it. Despite having gone without a meal for days, I stand up straight. I sigh, and try to ignore the emotional crack in my soul. I pick up the scales again and anxiously stand on it. It is time for another determination.

Disorder I watched her slowly waste away.

In the Dark Ive been in the dark So long, walking endlessly Never thought I'd find light Been dark, far too long Finally, there it is I found my light Still a long ways yet But i shall get there Now that i've found it I wont let it go The dark is gone    Forever...

Who are you afraid of? The answer is on the tip of my tongue But do I dare spit it out? All of them wait patiently for the answer fake smiles and curiosity etched on all their faces The answer is clawing its way out of my mouth and tumbles out before I have a chance to stop it Men They all stare at me confusion replacing curiosity But how could they understand? They weren't there when I was abused daily by one They weren't there when I was abusively controlled by one They weren't there when my mom was raped by one They weren't there for any of it So of course they wouldn't understand They wouldn't understand the way I have to not flinch at every guy that passes me in the street They wouldn't understand the way I tense up when one brushes by me

I Am Not A Slut

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It Doesn't Mean A Thing You don't have to lay a hand on me to leave scars along these arms, you don't have to push me into walls to leave bruises along my soul, you don't have to say you hate me for me to know that is exactly how you feel, you don't have to scream at me to keep me down, you don't have to call me names, but sometimes you do, and they may not break any of my bones, but they sure as hell break my spirit, you don't have to fuck other girls for me to feel inferior to them, you don't have to lie for me to know you aren't being honest, you don't have to stab me to make me bleed, you don't have to intend on hurting me for it to happen, you don't have to know what you're doing for it to be considered abuse, and you don't have to stop, don't even have to apologize, but on that note there's nothing that says I have to stick around, nothing to say I have to let it continue, nothing to say I have to forgive you, but just because I don't stay doesn't mean I've stopped loving you…

I'm No Fan I'm no fan of the sky, taunting me, no, I can't fly And I'm a little scared, no lie Because the oceans at my side And judging by its size; it could eat me alive. I'm no fan of satellites; My wish falls slightly to the right. Got that warm glow like a small town light post, Hanging real low, getting too close, Glistening with laughter, Spinning faster and faster Because they know something we don't know. Don't tell me a cold black sea holds love and empathy Because I know it appears to but it can't breathe And the warmth may let you believe But the sun doesn't have a heartbeat. Just another deadbeat and surely you'll be Just as disappointed as me In the end, see, you can't live free or be happy When you simply don't believe in anything.

Are We Perfect, Or Broken? Are we the perfect puzzle pieces, created to come together, or are we both broke pieces of glass that will never match again?