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You Left Me Stronger: Hey there, it's been awhile, do you remember me? I guess you might not, since I wasn't very important to you. You know, I spent so many days thinking about - what I did wrong I questioned if maybe, I was at fault or if I was screwed up. I thought a lot about the things you said... The things that were my fault, my problems. I took them to heart at first, but then I realised you were wrong. I realised that you are selfish and ugly on the inside. On the surface you pretended to care, but like a cancer; You amputate someone the moment you think they've gone bad. You hide from the rigours of life and only emerge l

I wondered if you could hear my heart in your sleep, Recognize the smell of my skin in your dreams, Touch my lips when you wake up, And whisper in my ears while I sleep. I pondered all that as you fell asleep to my heartbeat, Breathing softly on my chest with one of your hands still feeling me. And when I wake up it was your lips, Or maybe it's all just a dream. But when I declared "I love you", I could feel your lips at my ear, Whispering the sweet melody, Of everything I ever wanted to hear.

I feel your hands in my hair. I feel your breath on my neck. I feel your body pressed so close to mine. I feel your lips on my throat. I feel your hands move to my back and your lips work their way up to mine. I feel you and I love it. I hear you say you love me. I hear you whisper my name. I hear you tell me I'm the only one for you. I hear your breath in my ear. I hear your soft snores as I fall asleep. I hear you and I love it. I see you as I run into your arms. I see your face break through my world of darkness. I see you fight away my fears. I see you wipe away my tears. I see you're in love with me. I see you and I love

I hate that you're my every thought That I wake with you on my mind And fall asleep To images of your smile I hate that I adore you so With gorgeous eyes And sweet lips I long to taste I hate the way you make me feel Like I need you to survive As if breathing without you Is excruciating I hate that I yearn for you I hunger for your touch Every moment Of every day I hate the way I love you With every beat Of my wretched heart That loving you keeps me alive Yet keeps me alone

It's sad, How people lock themselves up, In their own little world. We lie to ourselves, Say that everything's alright, Everythings fine. We wear the mask, And act the part, And say it's all part of the show. We live in boxes, See in darkness, And speak in lies. I't's our world That we live in, Why should it change?

Dear Stars, I have a bone to pick with you. You see, when I was six, I called myself the nowhere girl... and I coloured myself a soulmate. I made him on crumpled sheets, with broken pieces of crayon, on a playground that was too busy wondering whether growing up entailed stealing their mother's cigarettes and their father's dirty magazines (I suppose I was already wise enough to know that growing up meant choosing one of the many ways of breaking yourself in two.) I hope you remember him, stars...he was important to me (My best friend threw that drawing away on my seventh birthday and told me that someone like me was not supposed to have su

I tried to count my scars, But I couldn't tell Where one began And another ended. So I tried to count the cuts, But I couldn't, because Blood smeared across my skin, Connecting them like a thin, Red veil of pain. And so I cried. I cried a single tear, because When I need to cry, I can't. Finally, I sat down, And put pen to paper, Or fingers to keys. And tried to write my emotions. But I couldn't, because I don't know how to tell the world What I feel like, When I have no right. I looked from the blood stained tissues, Across my torn body, Into my own eyes, reflected perfectly by the mirror before me. Another tear was p

I am the shadow, and I am the light I am the sunlight, and I am the night I am the battle, and I am the fighter I am the water, and I am the fire I am a raindrop just ready to fall I am the world, and yet… No one at all.

Lay down your right to be human. Put on a dazzling smile so that no one can see your pain. You hide it all so well, but underneath your shirt you can still feel the scars. No one knows what it is like to be you. Your smile is but one in a billion, A mask that you wear to ward off the questions. Your scars are your war paint, But this is a losing battle. You are sent to face the demons all alone, though they will never leave your side. So keep that pretty smile steady, And don't let one tear drop from those stormy eyes. Put on your war paint and go out into the world, where your smile makes you just like them.

No, depression is not just getting sad. It's a constant sadness that melts into your bones, An indescribably heavy weight upon your shoulders, Never mind your heart and soul. It's believing so many lies (maybe because you've learned to accept them) And no longer appreciating your self-worth. Wishing you no longer existed, wishing yourself gone. Depression holds you back from your dreams And pulls you into a nightmare. It takes full control of your existence. It makes you never want to get out of bed, And when you finally do, You just want to get back in it. But you know the hardest part? Ignorant people. Just. Like. You.

I've heard so many people tell those who suffer depression to just 'cheer up.' I wonder if they can really believe that it's that simple. Depression isn't just sadness. It is emptiness, it is misery. It is pain and nothingness at once. When you are truly depressed you lack the ability or will to cheer yourself up. No one just 'has depression.' You suffer from it. This is depression: You will wake at 5, 6, maybe 7am, feeling as though you had only just fallen asleep. It's likely you did. If you don't have to be somewhere, you could lie in bed for another 3 hours...too tired, too miserable and pathetic to crawl out of you bed. Or maybe you wi

"I'm fine" is a dirty lie. The truth is that I want to die. "I'm tired" is not even done. It really means "I'm tired of being no one" "I'm better" is but a curse. The truth is that I've never been worse "I'm just cold" is what I say so my sleeves can hide my scars away. "I already ate" is said with a frown. I starve to see the numbers on the scale go down. "I'm okay" is probably the worst. It really means I'm about to burst. All these things are lies to me. But you take this as the truth because what else would I be?

If I hugged you, would you never let go? If I kissed you, would you cherish that moment? If I reached for your hand, would you take mine gently? If I needed a shoulder, would you let me cry on yours? If I needed to talk, would you really listen? If I needed to scream, would you do it with me? If I needed to go, would you come with me? If I fell for you, would you catch me? or just let me hit the pavement?

This Is All About You: Most people giving you advice, might take a quote from a book Most people giving you advice, have never had a real look So from someone who's been watching, let me lay my heart bare I want to show you all the special things, about the girl for whom I care She always does her very best, no matter how tough the task Even when she's struggling, she puts on a brave mask She's always trying to learn new things, just for a chance to make you proud She can be a little bit quiet, but I think that's better than being loud She's not the very best in sports, I know she can be kind of a klutz But she smiles and goes on an

one.     When she cries herself to sleep     six out of seven nights a week you must     say nothing. You must simply take     her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,     pale cheeks and wait for her to     slumber at the sound of your heart. two.     On the days where she wishes she     were part of the stars, tell her     no. Tell her that there are too many     lights in the sky and that just one     would be forgotten the moment you looked     away from it. Tell her that she is perfect     the way she is: completely human. three.      Don't let her think about the scars      that no one but her can see. If she      says

You are so much stronger than suicide. You are so much more powerful than the cuts on your arm, And so much better than your eating disorder. So much more than your scars. Darling, Please look me in the eyes, And show me your wounds, Whether they be on your forearm, Your wrist, Your mind, Or your heart. Sweetheart, Have you been skipping meals? Have you been cutting? Well, here’s something for you to try. Think one thing, Just one thing, Every Single Day. Just remember to prove to the world, That you Are stronger than Suicide.

I lay here.. I can't Sleep.. I think of you.. I wish you were here.. I need you.. I need you now.. I cry.. I cry for you.. If I could only touch you.. Just for a moment.. The whole world would stop around us.. The troubles would disapear.. Then maybe.. Just maybe.. I could sleep. But I lay here, Unable to.. I need you.. My one true love..

I am not Ugly; you're just holding the mirror wrong. I am not Blind; I just love to listen. I am not Retarded; I just learn differently than you. I am not ADHD; the world just fascinates me. I am not Depressed; this is how I smile I am not Fat; I'm just as big as my heart. I am not Bisexual; I want to share my love with all. I am not Cross-eyed; One eye sees beauty in this universe, the other looks towards my future. Before you think you may have the answer, on who I'm supposed to be, No. I am not Special; I'm just being me.

Slide the blade across your wrist. Again. Again. Again. Stop. "Doesn't it hurt?" I can't feel anything. "A little." Punch your own stomach. Harder. Harder. Does it hurt yet? Yes. Keep going. "Why do you do that?" The pain makes me feel alive. "I don't know." Stare. Cry. Scream. Stop. Keep staring. "What's wrong with you?" I'm dead inside. "Nothing." "Emotional freak." I'm just depressed. "Sorry." Stare at your arms. Your stomach. Your waist. Your thighs. "What are you doing?" I'm ugly. "Never mind." "Attention seeker." I just have low self esteem. "I'm sorry." Cuts. Scars. Tears. Emotions. "Emo." "Scene girl." "Psycho." I'm just human

I'm not the marrying kind.
 I have stones in my hair instead of flowers, And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.

 I'm not the marrying kind.
 My words aren't pretty or wise, And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart. 

I'm not the marrying kind.
 I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder, And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.

 I'm not the marrying kind.
 Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior, And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.

 I'm not the marrying kind.R

With a warm drink, whispering secrets to my own reflection. The struggles that plague me, though none may know, Are only for the ears of my quiet mirror, who smiles Softly, warmly and with care. He tells me, I'm fine I've done well for now and soon I may finally rest. Though the silence continues to press upon me, Weighing upon my soul like an iron crate. Still I find comfort in whispering secrets, If only to my own reflection - holding a warm drink... -Chen Yuan Wen, 17th October 2012

.. last night I made a man out of pillows and forgotten fragments of clothes we'd pushed into my drawers. I held my pillow-man's hand and made sure he wasn't too warm because it is summer; I'm on the second floor; and that was always your biggest complaint. this morning I tried to shower but would turn off the water and run like a soapy dog, complete with loyal tail wagging, to the door thinking you'd come knocking. You hadn't. tomorrow will taste like the food of a week ago and I'll wear sunglasses, which, if you know me, (and you do) will seem out of context and like a little girl playing dress up. I know there are

Dear Stranger, I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress). You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something

I'll remember you when someone steals my breath so I can't even speak. I'll remember you when the rain beats so hard I can't hear myself think. I'll remember you when I see a careless smile on a young girl's face. I'll remember you when my heart aches in a lonely place. I'll remember you when the going gets rough and no one's there for me. I'll remember you when I fruitlessly wish for things that used to be. I'll remember you when I see someone smile as they hide a sigh. I'll remember you when someone's surprised at the word "goodbye." I'll remember you when another claims to be my other half. I'll remember you, dar