It’s just a game
I want to die. I want to use my body as my canvas, the blade my pen, red ink, to write my last straw of breath.
My heart hurts.
I hate my body.
I hate my life.
I hate my existence.
I hate my act.
I hate my choices.
I hate crying.
I hate wanting to die.
I hate being alone.
I hate being that” amazing girl, “which I’m not.
Hahahah ur fine.
I love my mom.
I love my dad.
I love my brother.
I fucking love Jennifer.
I love my friends.
I love many things in this cruel world.
Why can’t I love my self.
I’m I skinny enough, curvy enough, thick enough, tall enough, wtf I’m I really.
Last time I checked my mom stop being my mom.
My dad isn’t my dad who I use to see smiling with no regret and sorrow.
My brother doesn’t talk to me, he fucking treats me bad since I can remember, but he will always be my big brother.
And my lil sister. She’s so fucked up man that she doesn’t care.
I’m the soldier who never accomplish the mission.
I BROKE WHEN NO ONE WAS AROUND.
I cracked when silence consumed me.
I fear wats on the other side of the darkness.
Why do I crave my own death?
Can I jump out of this every day spiral?
Am I crazy?
If I feel like carving into my flesh help me, to satisfy my pain I feel inside.
Ironic am I right,
Having to write the words into my flesh isn’t going to help me at all.
I almost carved kill me to the side of my fingers.
My search for the perfect pencil for my canvas,
Side to side, is for attention seekers
Up and down, if you’re looking for damage
Oops, I wonder which side am I?
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock
Time quicken it’s pase
Now does it really stop.
But does my time stop
But once it does
Screw you for reading the surface of my pit of darkness
Darling don’t be frighten,
Monster do live in my head
Oops one stopped
Hello are u my monster
The one who feeds my mind with deadly whispers.
I have felt like dying today
Have u monster visited my heart and mind
Was it your field trip?
Funny am I right.
That’s wat I need
In my body
But cunning how they tell the one person who was called anorexia to gain weight
Who use to envy my body will laugh or smile at me now?
I’m not perfect
I’m not unique
I’m not amazing
Not any guy would want me
Do I fucking deserve better
If I did I would be selfish to others who suffered more than me.
If I were to be able to draw a sculpture on my skin it would be an eye who caring my life experiences.
A deadly sin. The devils word.