Maybe you're right
                    You look very pretty today
I've been thinking...
                    What are you talking about, I don't like her.
You're funny.
                    I think you're cute.
Want to come over later?
                    Will you help me with the math?
If I kiss you will you shut up?
                    It's been a long night, just go to sleep.
Can we just lay for a bit?
                    We're on episode three not four idiot.
Yu-Gi-Oh or Lord of the Rings?
(Then again, this would never happen.
You and your pretentious attitude
would never sit through three hours
of exploration of Middle Earth)
                    Did you do something different to your hair?
I may be drunk tonight,
but you'll still be beautiful tomorrow.
                    Please stay.
Your illusive superiority can be attractive sometimes.
                    I secretly like you.
You've been on my mind a lot.
                    My phone's broken, but can I message you or something?
Last year, when you completely embarrassed yourself
and I turned you down? I was really dying to say yes.

angry is an easy emotion
it's easy to feel
easy to describe
easy to tame.
aggravation is an easy emotion
easy to feel
easy to describe
easy to tame.
annoyance is an easy emotion
easy to feel
easy to describe
easy to tame.
it's sadness that's the hardest
it's not easy to feel
when bed seems like the only place you're accepted
or when the simple task of breathing is daunting
how could that be easy?
it's not easy to describe
how do you tell someone you're dying inside
when you've been laughing all day?
how do you tell someone the sobs that attack your body
during the darkness & silence of the night?
how could it be easy to describe?
it's not easy to tame
how do you overcome the yearning for sleep? for death?
how do you overcome the blanket of numb that threatens everything
whether it be your movements or your process of thought?
how do you overcome something with so much influence?
how could it be easy to overcome?

she was walking next to the road on the way to a date with the boy she loved. she triple dingo the road and got hit by a semi. she flew into an embankment. the driver never stopped. she rotted for three days before a runners dog found her. he never came looking.

don’t think there’s anything beautiful or romantic about hating yourself. It’s a highly hypocritical point of view because somewhere down the line I’m sure I’ve reblogged something of the sorts, but there is no reason why suicide or self harm should be glorified.

There’s nothing beautiful about physically being unable to move because every day tasks are so daunting you’d rather just stay in bed. There is nothing beautiful about being unable to get close to people without losing large pieces of your self-esteem and self-confidence every time. There is nothing beautiful in logically knowing what you feel isn’t how people see you, that you’re worth something, but still physically not being able to make yourself happy. There is nothing beautiful about cutting yourself, burning yourself, putting yourself in physically abusive situations. There is nothing beautiful in thinking “how many pills do you think I’d actually have to take to die” or “how long do you think it would take if i sliced my arm” or “what’s the least painful and cleanest way to do this”. There is nothing beautiful about being torn about whether you want to **** yourself for yourself or stay for your family. There is nothing beautiful about looking at yourself in the mirror and hating every piece, every inch, every out of place lock of hair. There is nothing beautiful about writing a note, having to tell everyone that it’s not their fault. There is nothing beautiful about not being able to maintain your happiness on your own. There is nothing beautiful about it.

It doesn’t make you special, cool, interesting: it’s not supposed to be a doorway for. attention. People don’t understand that I don’t choose to physically have to stop myself from ending my life. Things like “suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem” and “suicide is so selfish” make me so ******* angry. I get that, I’m not an idiot, if I die I die but tomorrow the sun is going to to come up and maybe I won’t have to sit alone at lunch again, or maybe I’ll make another friend, or maybe I won’t fail another test. But there will always be more of those temporary problems, there will always be more failed tests, there will always be more broken hearts, there will always be more. And whenever I think of suicide I don’t think of it as my temporary problems, I don’t think of it as that 17 on a spanish test or that rejected job application. I see it as, I won’t have to wake up tomorrow hating myself, I won’t have to wake up in the morning and physically push myself to get out of bed (like I couldn’t do today. It’s 11:47 on a tuesday morning and I”m still in bed from yesterday’s clothes because I physically couldn’t change into my pajamas last night, or make myself get up this morning). When I think about suicide I think about realizing that I won’t have to feel this ever-aching pain in my chest that never goes away. I think of all the people I won’t let down in the future, and all the people who won’t let me down. Hell yes it’s ******* selfish, I’m not stupid, don’t treat me like I am. It’s the most selfish thing you can do. But sometimes all I want to be is selfish because I give and give and give and never get anything back in return. I would die for my friends and anyone else that I care about but it’s like if I disappeared they wouldn’t notice. That’s all I want to do sometimes is disappear.

Please, don’t try to tell me that, oh just think happy thoughts. It’s like telling a ****** addict to “just stop” or an alcoholic to “just not drink”. It doesn’t work that way. I give every ounce of myself to other people and other things because I can’t keep any of it, because no matter what I do I feel like I’m not good enough. I have a 3.5 and climbing GPA. I have a mother and father that love me. I have an uncle and a grandmother that are always there for me when I need them. I have two beautiful baby nephews, and a loving sister. “there’s nothing you should be depressed about”, but the externals don’t matter when there’s nothing for you inside.

I don’t know how to explain this, and it’s different for everyone, but for me, there’s nothing to live for but my best friend. I know if I left her, she’d follow me, and I can’t have that on my hands. But that shouldn’t be the only reason I’m alive. That shouldn’t be the only reason I didn’t take those pills. Everyone needs to find a reason to be happy inside of themselves, and it’s so ******* hard to do when I see things glorifying and beautifying suicide and depression.

This is the reason why no one takes it seriously. By spreading this, no one seriously thinks that someone has a problem. By just saying, “oh my god I’m gonna **** myself” people don’t take it seriously. Mental illness is not just something you can get over, it doesn’t just go away, you can’t just think happy thoughts and it’s gone. During the happiest times of my life I destroyed everything I had because I didn’t think I was good enough, and there were always better options. I don’t love myself. I hate myself. I hate that I can’t make people happy. I hate that I’m not enough for people. I hate that I’m not as pretty as anyone else. I hate that I’m not funny. I hate that my own flesh and blood despise me, and are disappointed in me. I hate that I couldn’t save him from his own demons, that I couldn’t get him to just put the ******* bottle down. I hate knowing that some things aren’t my fault but always blaming myself for everything ****** in my life. I hate that all of my love wasn’t enough for anyone to stay. I hate having to try to save people to save myself. I hate having to have some kind of external verification and justification for my life.

Just because I can make jokes and laugh until I cry around other people doesn’t mean I don’t wake up every hour crying, or doesn’t mean I don’t come home and isolate myself because I don’t want my parents to see me destroyed. People need to understand this isn’t romantic. This isn’t something you want to be. This isn’t something you should strive for. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. It makes getting close to people scary, if not dangerous. It makes everyday tasks so much harder than they have to be. I don’t know if any of this made sense to anyone, and I’m sorry if I insulted anyone with mental illness, this is just my views from my personal experiences. Just, think before you speak. Think before you post. Think before you glorify something that could be destroying someone else.

I’m sure people might look at me differently for this. I’m sure people might be surprised that there have been numerous times where if I had gone through with it I wouldn’t be here. I’m sure people might be disgusted, ******, angry at me for speaking my mind. I’m sure some people might think I got it all wrong. But I need to speak my mind, and I need to share what I believe, because it seems like no one I talk to understands how I feel.

k.s

p.s. please if anyone needs to talk, my inbox is always open, anything. I can hold on, but sometimes it’s hard and I always wish I had a crutch. Please, just before you do anything, talk to someone, try to talk yourself out of it, or find someone to talk you out of it. I know I said we need to find something to love within ourselves, and I believe that 100%, but you can’t do that if you’re not breathing. Just try to hold on to find that something. I haven’t been living for the past six months, I’ve just been holding on, and I’m still looking but you can’t give up hope. Please, don’t give up hope.

The world is sad, I've noticed.
But it is also happy.
Like the way you feel on the first Christmas without a loved one.
At times like those, I find, the meaning of life can be blurred.
It can be swayed.
It can be lost.

As humans, we question,
it's in our blood,
even at a ripe age,
children begin to question.
Once the questions begin, mystery seems to be lost.
There is no santa claus anymore.
There is no tooth fairy.
There are no happy endings.

Life wasn't meant to live with happy endings,
with free presents from a magical man,
from money when biology takes its course.

In life, we are meant to feel,
every emotion that is evoked by it.

When the sadness comes,
it's because we are meant to be sad.
The times we feel the lowest,
are the things we will look back on when we feel the best,
and wonder,
how we ever let it get that bad.

When happiness reigns over all,
it's because we are meant to be happy.
These times in life we will smile,
and we will look back on the times we felt so low,
and wonder,
how could it ever get that way again.

Without the emotion,
that fluctuates from our being,
that pulls our heart,
and sometimes tears it out,
we wouldn't know if we were real or not.

I wouldn't know that I love you so much I hate you.
I wouldn't know that I am sad when you leave, meaning I miss you.
I wouldn't know that I'm angry with you because you don't feel these emotions for me.
If I can't evoke emotion from you,
how am I going to be the one
who makes you
feel
real









I can't believe it ended up being about you again.

and just like that you let us go
you let me fall
but i used to think i'd never get back up
but i'm already walking away

           and the fact that you're leaving makes me feel like i'm melting and  
           i'm just scared you'll learn to live without me

don't worry about me here rotting in my own flesh, blood from the mind staining it with angry words thought up in drunken stupors about how great we were. no no don't worry, i'll get better soon, but it's hard to get the stains out

          how many different ways do i have to say i needed you does it take
          for you to understand

do you even ******* care really? do you? i don't think you do and i just really don't appreciate that.
  
          it's amazing how much you can hate yourself but love someone just
          as strongly. i didn't know such things were possible. maybe i love
          you enough that it took away all the love i was supposed to have
          kept

the things that go bump in the night used to scare me but now it's the fading light behind your eyes

          i would be there for you at 3am if you called me enough to wake
         me up. you couldn't even take the time to text me back when i was
         falling into pieces.

the hardest part wasn't the heartbreak. i got used to that after a while. it was noticing that yours wasn't, which means it never was really fully there in the first place.

          you hear a noise outside your window. check, i dare you. he won't
          be there.

i'm burning from the inside out and i wonder if you'll be able to see my skin charring from underneath

           you poisoned my body more than any drug could have

Finding something to write about that's not you is quite hard these days. It's really odd, I know you don't love me anymore and I don't love you anymore (maybe) but you're still all I think about. I guess because you were such a big part of my life for five months. Then you moved on in a week and it's total naivety of the situation hit me. How could you possibly have loved me? You moved on in a week, I'm just an idiot. I wish I could talk to you about it, but you don't really care enough to give me answers, and that's okay. I can make assumptions as long as your fine with it. I snooped through your phone and read you and one girl's messages. They were a little more than friendly I'd say, but hey, it was your prerogative. Then there was the other girl, and I should have realized so much sooner you were falling for her, but there comes the naive thing again. We both knew, though, that we weren't going to last. You were falling out of love, and I could feel it. Love is like a game of tug of war and as soon as one side lets go, the one that's still holding on falls flat on their ***. I mean truth be told, I was going to break up with you a month prior, but I didn't because I thought maybe we could fix things. Things were too far gone at that point though to really even be considered savable. I lost trust in you, you lost love for me. I wish for once you'd be honest with me though. Manned up and admitted you were falling for her while we were together. I wish that maybe we could be friends, but we definitely can't be right now because you're not open enough to be real with me. You're intimidated by my bluntness and mistake it for attachment. I'm moving on. Hell yeah it's hard. I mean, I loved you so much, but I can't change the fact that you don't love me. I'm not just going to hold onto something if there's no point. Anyways, it's probably better if we're not together. It's been almost two weeks and I feel better than I had in my relationship with you. You made me feel so insecure and ugly that I hated myself until you were near me. I didn't love myself because I need you to validate that I meant something more than flesh and bone. But you left and I grew. I'm learning to love myself more and more everyday. I don't let anyone step on me anymore ,and I don't let people disrespect me. Life's been really good, and I'm learning to live without you. I never thought I would.


                                                     Cest la vie

the sun comes back even after the darkest of nights
the coldest of winters
when every other source of light in life is gone
no matter if you're in a good mood or bad
no matter if you yell at or not
no matter if you forget for a second that you love it
even after thirty days of night in the ******* arctic.
you never did.

it started out fast
fast fast fast and it ended fast
in quick circles around the only fact
that i wasn't the only thing you loved
and it had happened before
you weren't the first to have something more important
but instead of a girl with short blonde hair
it was a spaniard with a thick bottom and a thin top
or a russian with a long neck and clear complexion
my brown eyes weren't replaced by another's.
but your hazy ones that closed abruptly
after too many kisses of these bottle-necked beauties
that seemed to overpower anything i'd say
or let alone anything you'd say
"that's the last one i promise"
or "just one more and i'll be done"
but you kept cheating on my lips with theirs
and instead of the after-taste of my chapstick
when your lips would find mine in the dark
it'd be like aged potatoes or burnt diet coke
and soon you realized that your original love was too strong
and it couldn't be touched by the pure one i held for you
and you promised you cared and that's why you were doing this
and the martyrdom you'd hoped would help only hurt in the end
and as my heart burned so did your throat
and as my skin tore so did your promises
and you said you'd never forget me
and you'd call me when you straightened out
but no one forgets their first love
and you were mine and yours was them.

You can't
put a time stamp
on an emotion or
even just an inkling of love
can you?

I once thought my lips were meant for you,
to kiss your lips,
to argue with you,
to sing (poorly) with you,
to curse your name,
to talk about you,
but then I realized you thought the same about hers,
and I can't be selfish because my lips were never meant for you,
and even though you don't feel that way for me,
somebody else's lips think that I'm theirs.