as feet pound
through my back.
of the other:
the only thing
from my skin.
Don't look back.
e m p t y.
Am I still moving?
in the s
I'll be okay;
I'll be able to say
It's not today;
I'll be happy.
Criss-CrossSo many scars
All criss-crossing over each other
How many now?
One hundred and something?
I don't know
I never counted
But what about the scars that have faded?
What about the cuts inflicted on top of old ones?
What about the wounds I opened up again, and again?
Final cutI pull the silver blade slowly across
And as the blood seeps out
I feel alive again.
And for that small moment
I am happy.
But then the real world...
Or at least my world...
Comes flooding in
And once again the thoughts control my life.
The thoughts that seem to have always been there:
"No one likes you and never will!"
"You are so ugly!"
'Kill yourself, do it, now!"
Over and over these words go through my head.
It seems there's nothing to live for
I'm just being tortured in this life.
The only reason I'm still alive
Is for my friends and family...
I don't want to hurt them.
"But maybe I'm already ruining their lives..."
As this thought comes through my head
My body takes over
The thoughts are overpowering.
I pick up that beautiful silver blade
The only thing that has brought me happiness
And cut...again and again...
Over my arms, legs any space I can find.
Finally I feel strength and power...
And to prove the thoughts wrong...
I do my last cut...
Down my wr
About the death......that dare not speak its name
People can (and will) treat you in two ways:
1 - They (mostly your family) will worry about you all the time, not leaving you alone for a second, treating like you're made of glass that can break into a million pieces at any second for numberous of reasons (Let's not say anything bad or sad to her because she may try it again) and they ask you all the time if you're happy and if everything it's ok; when they see you're serious, quiet, contemplative and alone they secretly freak out wondering if you're considering doing it again...
2 - Other people stay away from you as far as they can. They avoid you because they fear you; think you're dangerous somehow (?); or they think whatever you have that led you to it may be contagious...
written in september 25, 2010
Two Sides Of MeWho is Kari?
Kari is the one who played with Barbie's
Was forced into dresses and skirts
Who constantly fidgeted in them
Who cries herself to sleep when things get to hard to handle
Who had to adjust to being treated like a girly-girl
Who was tortured at school everyday for no reason
Who was the wallflower that quietly took abuse
Who was called a lesbian by so many people who didn't even know her
Who chose to live this way
Who is Kadin?
Kadin is the one who plays video games
Who tried playing soccer and failed
Who is in love with horror movies
Who gets angry easily
Who chooses the baggy shirts to wear
Who helped Kari find comfort in being herself
Who isn't afraid to burp a bit louder and tell people what he thinks of them
Was comfortable when he got the chance to wear pants to school
Who helps inspire all of my works
Who are Kari and Kadin?
They are me
Two sides of me
They love Steven, friends, family, writing, vintage, poetry and everything else that makes me who I am
They've helped m