I'm not "perf
Please read only if you feel comfortable enough.
When you fall....
"I'll catch you, (Name)!" The pink-haired boy exclaimed, giving you a grin. It was always a kind, charming grin. You loved it so much. Though you and him were only little kids at the time, you held the promise deep in your heart. On your desk in your apartment were letters to everyone you knew and cared for. The only one missing a letter, was Natsu. You wanted to tell him in person, but things didn't go as planned.
He turned around, his smile growing bigger when he saw it was you. "Hey, (Name)! What's up?" He always sounded so optimistic, you wondered how he could smile. You sucked in a deep breath, an d looked at him in the eye. "Natsu, I-"
"Natsu! Hurry!" Lucy called, Erza, Happy, and Gray at her side. Natsu nodded to Lucy and looked back at you, "Sorry about that, (Name)! We're going to go check out some of the shops today. You wanna come w
Understandable, isn't it?
Now imagine that horrible, dirty feeling running through every one of Your veins, right beneath Your skin.
Horrible, isn't it?
One would often judge those Who suffer Self-Mutilation.
Filthy. Horrible. Pathetic. Disgusting. Disgraceful. Coward. Sinner. Evil. Bad. Immoral. Wimp. Useless. Unworthy. Worthless. Yellow-Belly. Debris Of The Earth. Wicked. Corrupt. Damaged. Broken. Weak. Scoundrel. Repulsive. Unseemly. Waste. Reprobate. Degenerate. Good-For-Nothing. No-Good. Wrongdoer. Relpulsive. Miscreant. Malefactor. Trash. Wretched. Inadequate. Insufficient. Defective. Deficient. Spineless. Dismal Excuse For A Human Being.
... Shall I Continue???
You're not helping.
And that's not even the half of it.
And You're telling Them this, all the while, They have that horrible, dirty feeling running through every o
I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress).
You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something I'm unaware of, something silently and intimately your own; a secret from the world that makes everything all the more meaningful to you.
- The Passenger
I'm not in the habit of reading post-its from strangers. I found a love-letter hidden in a newspaper once, that the author forgot or was too afraid to send. It made me sad to think
let me tell you a story
using six words.
their names become parts of statistics.
let me tell you a story
using six words.
“suicide is the easy way out.”
let me tell you a story
using six words
that will never be told.
pain is not a fucking
do you still pray,
knowing there will be no answer?
see, i cannot speak for those
who have no voice to give
but, sincerely, these are the six words
i respond with:
i wish i could save you.
we live our lives being told that
there is always a safety net -
that there are people designed to protect us.
i’m going to use six words because,
the saddest stories
take the fewest words to tell.
for them, there was never anyone.
blades can cut wrists but
here are six words:
blades can cut stories short, too.
i have approximately 250,000 words
to choose from
to try and describe to you what suicide is
but i don’t
I’m finding my way back to consciousness through the sound
But it made you smile
Would it still be a sin?
If I opened the door
But turned you away
Would you still come in?
If I sliced my skin
But it didn't hurt
Would it still be wrong?
If I acted all brave
But couldn't face it
Would I still be strong?
If I tied my noose
Around a tree's open arms
Would it be an embrace?
If I left tonight
And begged you stay
Would you still give chase?
If I committed sin
But hurt nobody
Would I be welcome above?
If I do something you hate
But only for your good
Could it still be true love?
He knew now that he had nothing to live for. He truly didn't. Today, his life would change, to escape the abuse Matthew decided that killing himself was the only way out, his get out of jail free card. For a moment he wondered how his older brother Alfred would feel, he'd probably lose it too... He was too full of himself to do what Matthew was plotting.
"Matthew?" you asked behind him, though you knew it was probably useless knowing he w
(Name) pulled her coat tighter, walking out the school gates with her friends, breathing out slowly so mist formed around her mouth, ah winter. Light frost had formed on almost everything, the little speckles of white glinting like tiny diamonds all compressed together to form the most beautiful and intricate patterns. She walked with her two friends, both of them older than (Name), but only by a few months. The girls were all 16, they’d met at the start of high school. Though (Name)’s friends were closer with each other than (Name) herself, she still considered them close friends.
“Do you want to come shopping with us (Name?)” Asked her friend who was looking in her mini make-up mirror, checking her lipstick.
“I can’t sorry, I have to pick my little brother up.” Smiled (Name). This fact was indeed true, but even if she didn’t need to pick up her little brother, (Name) sti
I will only ever lie
When you ask me if I’m fine
Or if I like this life of mine.
If I had a gun,
I’d put it to my head
And turn bouncy blonde,
Into ruby red.
You want me to stop cutting;
I’ll stop when I’m dead.
The last time I’ll cut
Will be the last thing I see
When I finally put an end to me.
Dying sounds good right now,
Just fading into black
And never coming back
To the agony living brings.
Perhaps you’ll find me hanging,
Or after OD’ing;
Someday soon you’ll find me,
It’s too late now,
I’m too far gone.
Now I’m just a ghost
Of who could’ve been someone.
I don't see an end, but I remember how it started. How betrayal and naïveté would leave me here to die, without remorse, or the batting of an eye. I'm seventeen, and I was so far ahead. I exceeded every expectation, blew through hurdles in my wake. I had it all in front of me, a future bright for all to see. Though my daddy said I wasn't his; drew lines throughout my memory. A beautiful boy said he loved me. My knight, my heart, my everything. He promised me eternity. I trusted him with all
If you bleed you'll die
If you're sad you'll smile
And if you smile it's a lie
If you lie you'll live
If you live you'll die
If you cheat you'll win
And if you win you'll cry
If you cry you'll lose
If you lose you'll die
If you run you'll stay
And if you stay you'll fly
If you fly you'll fall
If you fall you'll die
'Cause no-one will catch you
If your life is a lie.
See the things you think?
So if I'm gay, I should be dead.
and if I'm emo I need a shrink.
Because I'm white
I must be lazy.
I must want to start a fight
because I'm a punk with a mohawk and my clothes are too crazy.
So because I'm black
I must be in a gang
And I must have smarts that lack.
Because I talk in slang.
So I'm Irish and proud of it
I must be a drunk who likes to fight.
And my wrists are slit
I must be doing it out of spite!
Because I'm a guy
I can't get raped or go through abuse
And I must always lie
because my family are jews.
So my boobs are broad
I must be a slut
Because I cut
I must be suicidal or just a fraud.
So I'm male and I was raped by a guy
I guess now I'm just a slutty gay!
So I'm going to hell when I die
because I messed up in some way.
I'm a lesbian or as you say a "Dyke"
So I hate men.
And I got into a fight
So I wanna beat up every person I can?!
I'm from Japan,
So I can't drive
So I've had sex with more then one man
I shouldn't b
But Im so tired of being strong.
Its hard living everyday,
Wanting only to break down.
Its a sin says mom,
Its an illness says dad.
And my little baby brother,
Cant help but give a frown.
I want to be perfect,
Someone people like.
But Im such a tangled mess,
That cant do anything right.
Pills will fix the problem,
Says my best friend one day.
But I wonder if she knows
What I think of every night.
I dont have marks on my arms,
And I havent tried a million times.
But I look at every knife and ledge,
And lake wanting to drown.
I don’t want saving,
I don’t want ”friends”;
I just want all ends
To be met in red.
I hate how plain my skin is,
How it should be painted;
I’m the addiction’s harlot,
I do as it must dictate
And when it tells me to seal my bloody fate;
I bloody well will.
I’m too full of blood,
I need to let some out.
But know this isn’t a shout
This is me coping
With how I’m hoping
Nobody’ll care when I go.
Cutting isn’t for attention;
It’s for a brief suspension
Of everything else.
It is mine and I’m its,
It doing as I want
And I its slave
Until there’s nothing left to save.
I don’t fear death
Half as much as I do breath.
Because I’d be lying
If I said dying
Wasn’t on my list of things to do today.
Making our hands turn into fists.
We only feel the pain and sorrow,
Have we given up hope for a better tomorrow?
The rope is hanging from the ceiling,
Helping us end that miserable feeling.
The pills are scattered across the floor,
Maybe we need to swallow just one more?
Others might refuse to see the cruelty of life,
While others try to end it by the knife.
Trying to get out of this cruel dream,
Sometimes all we can do is scream.
There are others like you out there,
You might not yet know where.
But they try to overcome it,
That's something not all will admit.
Every one of us needs a helping hand,
Facing these torments alone is something none can withstand.
But we would first need to admit and ask,
Be willing to take off this smiling mask.
Before we get to help to finally smile again,
And get rid of all this pain.
But inside the scars run deep,
Emotional scars that let the tears escape when no one is around.
Cut like a broken mirror
Forever looking into myself,
Trying to figure out what went wrong...
And then a voice tells me everything will be alright
I see your face and feel your touch,
And the pain eases.
You wipe my tears away,
And tell me not to worry...
And the scars begin to heal
I start to feel again, remembering what it means to cry
Remembering what it is to hate,
Remembering what it is to love...
Very slowly the scars begin to fade
And all the time you whisper,
That you will always be there
And everything will be ok...
And one day I WILL be myself again
no more scars
and no more tears,
And I'll know what it means to love...
And I'll know what it means to cry...
And I'll know what it means to be yours...
"Your beak is a bit dull today"
"What, you have no time to polish it"
"Another man die?"
"A hundred you say"
"Tsk, tsk, plague has been getting around I see"
"Do I have it?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do"
"No, no I'm not concerned"
"You're not sure how long I'll live"
"Think nothing of it"
"I plan to have a cup of tea before dusk, then slit my wrists as they light the street lamps"
"Oh, the man who lights the street lamps is dead"
"Well, I'll just skip the tea"