All the time Sometimes it feels like I can’t do anything right

All the time  Sometimes it feels like I would rather just lie all the time

All the time Sometimes it feels like I deserve to feel this bad

All the time Sometimes it feels like I would rather

All the time Sometimes I just cry and cry because nothing is right

All the time Sometimes I hate myself so bad I want to stab myself over and over and be free from who I am, who I have become

All the time Sometimes I can’t stand to be who I am and plead and plead to whoever to please, please help me just once, please

All the time Sometimes I ask for help but I get left behind to rot

All the time Sometimes I think about being free

All the time Sometimes nothing feels real

All the time Sometimes I wish it wasn’t



it is impossible to tell you everything that ruined me

it is impossible to tell you every detail of those days

it is impossible because i barely remember any of it but i remember it so well

it is impossible for you to ever understand me because you did not go through that suffering like i did

the only people who know, know on accident

although i wanted to die and had never experienced so much suffering in my life, at least i looked happy when i think back on it

now im the same but where is the happy

this is impossible

im breathing the same suffering but i act like it’s different

it’s impossible to tell you how i feel







a fallen angel

my wings were white and proud

so tell me why they are grey and heavy?


what are you doing?

why are you making me bleed?

ripping off my feathers and carving my wings out?

it hurts it hurts

the mirror has never been so true

your face is non existent

why do i only see me?

me, wings, and a knife?

am i free?

1/25/18 (6:03 pm)

I want to disappear

Leave nothing behind, not even a tear

Choked up and lost in my thoughts

I’m dying, I’m dying, please let me out

Will you ever leave me alone?

But if you leave then I’ll be all alone…

I want you gone, but then who am I?

Should I follow you? Lead me to the dark

Cover me in your embrace

Why is it so cold and far?

I trust you to make me whole

Kill me and eat me so

I need you to help me out

Give me those p*lls, let’s make it out

6/29/17, 22:33 Bad Night


Too much feeling – too much


So numb – am I even here?

Do I deserve to even feel?

Dissociate please

Heart racing with my thoughts 

Eyes flickering and moving behind eyelids- like the skin doesn’t exist 

Frozen legs and feet where is the ground ?

Cut, cut, cut open the feeling of hopelessness

Want, want, desire to feel

Want to rip my hair out and tear all my skin until I’m bones.

Want to set myself on fire, want to drive a car into the ocean and sink

Want to lose and lose myself again

Want to be fucking wild, robust, and pure

I never lived in starvation- rather starvation lived in me

I run and run but time never stops, the voices keep screaming, the blood pulses in beat to the music and my heart beat looping and hoping for a break 

5-19-17: Left Behind

And I remember a time where I woke up because I wanted to wake up

A time I wrote not only because it was that or d*ing

A time where I did my work and was voted most hardworking and most successful

A time where I would say what I felt and what was on my mind without fear, that didn’t last long

A time where I didn’t question every little thing: why am i here?

A time where I didn’t question myself: do i deserve to be here?

A time where only wanting to please others and be the best was my only goal

A time where I could look in the mirror and look for half a second more

A time where I didn’t have such scars depicting such remorse

A time where I didn’t want to live and a time I did

A time where I didn’t have to question relapse and plans and lies

A time where I had he energy and satisfaction of not laying in bed all day and instead laughing and playing with friends

 A better time and one I miss


3-19-17: why

I question

WHy why why 

Only thought in my head that isn’t degrading me and beating me down

A thought that gets lost in the war of all others trying to force their way up front

Sometimes the ‘whys’ turn into more coherent questions 

Sometimes they form 2 words:

Why me?

Sometimes they form 3:

Why only me?

The words rush behind my eyelids

Forcing their way up front