I was sitting here angry.
I decided that I was going to do it.
I got my pills out and put one to my lips.
Then I got a text message and I guess I was hoping for a reason to stay.
It wasn’t a reason to stay at all.
I cried and cried and cried.
I got my blade.
I cut, I cut, I cut, and cut til i couldnt see my leg through the blood.
I’m better now.
I’m not crying.
I’m just thinking about the reason why I started cutting.
I’m worthless.
backtrackinlife
He really is.
I’m sitting here with blood balling on my leg(cut myself the first time in a couple weeks)
Thought I was stronger than this.
Suicide (:
If only death would solve it all.
I still have people here that I care about..
That doesn’t stop me from having these thoughts… I just want to end it….
Do you try to make me cry?
Do you try to keep a frown on my face?
Do you try to step on my heart over and over again?
Do you try…
Do you try…..
I’m gone now
Goodbye
Have you ever longed for that rush???
Hoped that someone or something would give it?
Well I get that rush every day.
I get that feeling every day..
I hate it usually.
Just like panic attacks.
I love them but I hate them.
They screw me up.
I get shakey.
I cry sometimes.
I can’t be alone.
When I’m alone it gets worse.
I panic more.
I cry more.
I don’t know where I’m going with this.
I guess I’m tired.
I feel like just taking my wallet and leaving.
I could get pretty far.
I know people I can stay with.
Even if it would be his dad I’d be staying with. He’d let me..
If I needed to go, he’d let me.
I’d have it made.
I don’t give a fuck if it wasn’t true.
Right now just watching blood trickle down my skin.
I’m happy I had a real reason.
Even if it wasn’t so real.
Oh well though.
I’m just happy I had a reason to drag that blade across my skin.
Even if it wasn’t real.
5 seconds was enough.
Enough to […]
There’s blood on my hands
The rain is pouring down. I step out. I am drenched.
The rain is icey cold.
I step out and don’t step back in.
Before you read on, I want to ask that you guys please don’t lecture me or anything about drugs. Please understand I’m just venting. People who do drugs aren’t bad. People who dislike drugs, good for you. As for me though, I’m more anti-drug. Anti-pot. Anti-everything to do with that shit.
I admit I’ve tried some, but something about them.. I can’t stand them
I take pills sometimes cause they make me feel better.
For a little while, then it just gets worse.
I can’t take it when people around me do drugs. I’ve let up since my last major drug addict ex.
I […]
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
I hate you.
But I love you….
Stay with me.
Love me.
Just…. Don’t give up on me..
I hate myself
I hate Me.
Trust…
Do we have that?
Do you trust me?
Do you BELIEVE me?
I cry and soon after realize that well.. It’s my fault. My ex’s were right. I am a screw up. I deserve to be put in my place. Every time they put their hands on me and left a mark to remember each time… I deserved it. Every cut of mine is a memory. Every scar of mine is another fucking memory. I understand I’m not pretty. I understand that my body is just… Horrific. My mouth should be kept shut… My hands kept to myself. I shouldn’t speak when you speak. I shouldn’t […]
It’s hard to quit, even with all the support in the world. It’s hard. I still carry my pills with me. I still carry my blade. I still keep my safety blankets with me at all times. My leg bleeds. I’ve stopped cutting so much though. I used to cut until I fell asleep. I did one deep cut and I think I’m done. It calmed me enough. I just..
I love you
..Does no one care anymore?
“I haven’t lost anything except my mind”.
I sometimes cry for no reason what so ever.
Sometimes I hope for help, but usually I have no hope. I cannot be helped.
I sometimes think maybe things would be better if I was gone. He always seems to talk me out of it though. I don’t know how. There is something about him.
“You could be empty, and I can be right here empty with you.”
Following a small story I read, I feel tonight I should go. It is the perfect night. Perfect setting. And who would see it coming? HAH.
I’m ready to overdose.
Ready to die.
Pill#1..
Pill#2…
Pill#3….
So on and so on I will slowly die and slowly disappear.
Who would care
I carry my pills, my safety blanket.
My pills that I don’t take.
Enough to over dose.
I carry my pills.
I want death, always.
Yet I want life, happy.
I put a pill to my lips.
Another.
Another.
Slowly slipping away