don't ask

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She was Numb. Numb. Numb. Sometimes she whispers that word to herself, when she gets strange looks she smiles.

What is there to tell you about her? She drinks. She smokes. She starves herself. She does whatever it takes ease the numbness, or distract herself from it.

The other day she cut herself. Seventeen slits, on her left forearm. She used the razor from a pencil sharpener -just scratches, she tells herself. Today she accidentally let them show as she was taking off her jacket. Nobody saw, she doesn't know whether or not she's relieved.

She goes home and listens to music that gets in your head as she goes on Tumblr for hours. Around her, her friends are kissing boys and laughing and studying and growing. She writes things that are similar to the young Tim Burton's poetry. About girls who will grow up before their time. She is in a blur. When she looks around, all she can see is fog.

Letterhead #11

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Dear Bella,
I've been listening to hurt by nine inch nails/johnny cash all night
you're right, it's incredible.

I just want to say, the times i've shown you writing and said
it was from another blog,
i lied. i don't know why, maybe you can relate.
i mean, you lie,
you lie all the time.
you say no one knows you're sad.
but you tell them, you tell me.
they just don't know what to do
when you say you want to die.
they're scared and (you're right) they don't want to believe it,
they want to believe in the bright, smiling bella,
not this hidden, broken, lonely person who we've never met
because you've never introduced us.
(can you blame them)
it's your fault.
it's their fault.
it's nobody's fault.

they do care,
we both know it, but they don't understand
they are innocent, unstained, happy fools
and you can't expect them to save you.
That is, if you even want saving.
I don't know if you do anymore,
I don't think you know either.

thought

i hate lying
i swear i do
but now it seems they are all that is holding my world together
by holding my two worlds apart

knowing

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I get it.
That in the quiet moments, you can't ignore it.
When you are in the shower with it's too-warm water pounding on your face
And water droplets gathering like granules on your back.
When you are walking to the bus-stop, your hands fiddling with a shirt-button.
When you are at a party and for a moment your thoughts stop.

I get it. That in the quiet moments,
You can't ignore how unhappy you are.

Stolen

Kudos to Lily for posting this, I just stole it.

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“I wanted to kill the me underneath.
That fact haunted my days and nights. When you realize you hate yourself so much, when you realize that

you cannot stand who you are,

and this deep spite has been the motivation behind your behavior for many years,

your brain can’t quite deal with it.

It will try very hard to avoid that realization;

it will try, in a last-ditch effort to keep your remaining parts alive, to remake the rest of you. ”

—Marya Hornbacher

100

So I will show you...

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smile

in that one smile, everything was said
wasn't it

that i'm not who you thought

that our secret is different now

that i'm not who i thought

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this smoke isn't coming out of my mouth

the real.

Suddenly i have on this mask
 it was easier than i thought it would be

but it falls off in gasps:
in the dark of the night
alone in my room
staring out a bus window
a pause in conversation.
they pretend not to notice.

they prefer it
everything is back to normal
"it's easier this way, you're you again"
i'm me again
what does that mean?


i don't know how i feel
because now,
i question whether i put it on or took it off.
maybe the glimpses of the other me, are just an old habit dying hard.
Maybe what i thought was me
was a facade all along.

i'm losing myself.



What are you afraid of?

It's so easy to lie to that question. But I don't like lying, so instead I avoid. "Oh, you know...stuff. *Followed by a conspicuous change of subject* "  Yeah, not one of my more brilliant moments but the point remains the same, it's a difficult question to ask yourself, let alone answer.


I think it's difficult because it requires understanding and accepting yourself, no matter how fragile you are. And that means acknowledging your weaknesses.
So here's your answer. Even if it's too little, too late. Even if it probably not all of my fears, because I'm not completely aware of them.


It may only be the truth but it's all I have.. So I hope that means something.
I'm afraid of injections because I don't like being forced into things.
I'm afraid of death because I don't know what it is.
I'm afraid of not embracing life because I don't want to waste a moment.
I'm afraid of letting my guard down because when you care you get hurt.
I'm afraid of being totally honest because when you leave yourself so exposed who knows what you'll think.
I'm afraid of love because it can't be controlled.