When I Can’t Sleep

I despise mirrors
What I see I hate 
I hit it, sending cracks running
I think to my self, “this is a more accurate reflection.”
Just like it, I am broken, I am shattered
What do you do with something that can’t be fixed?
Take it to the curb or keep it
Hoping for a miracle that will never come
You can’t escape the monster you have become
The one that warps your view on everything and everyone in this world 
The one that pushes the only people who care about you away
They tell you you’re getting better and in return you flash a reflexive smile
But, in truth, you’re just growing numb to the overwhelming pain
Just floating through life, stuck in your own rage-filled mind 
They say that they can help you, all you have to do is accept and forgive
What if I can never accept?
What if I don’t want to forgive?
All the people who have hurt me
All the people who put a crack my reflection
I hate
I hate them just like I hate what I got burdened with
You whine about not getting a better grade in school
You bitch about your parents not buying you what you want
Fuck you
You think you know what life is 
You think you’re mature and deserve respect because you smoke or you drink or you’ve slept around
Wake-up. You’ve been through nothing.
I’m done pretending
This is my life
I’ve been in pain for so long, I can’t even remember what true happiness feels like
I’ve kept my mouth shut so many years 
I’m choking on the words I never said
My body is covered with scars, inside and out
Some from myself, some from others
Each a bright reminder of how broken I am
So, next time you go to complain about something meaningless 
Think about it
Then, don’t do it.

I Hope Your Proud

You think you know me
But you don’t know shit
I’m not the person I used to be
This world has thrown me into a pit
 
Slam the door
Turn off the lights
You’ll find me in the corner
Fighting for my life
 
My cells burn with so much hate
If you catch me smiling at you
You’ll know it’s fake
 
I hate you
I hate you all
I can’t believe I ever called you my friend 
When I needed someone the most
You walked away with a grin
 
Now I’m here trying to find myself again
Trying to forget my past
Feeling my life slipping from my fragile grasp 
And I ask myself……
 
How did I get this broken?
How did I let this happen?
I have left so many words unspoken
They consume my thoughts ever second
 
No sleep for the tired
No rest for the restless
I think I might be already be gone
Just a shell filled with sorrow and fired rage
 
Everyone who’s ever hurt me
Who’s ever told me I had nothing to offer this damned world
I hope you’re proud
Of the things you’ve caused
Let me be the first to give you a round of applause
Image

Story of a Girl

Flying so high
Feet can’t touch the ground
Hoping not to crash
As I gaze dreamily all around

The sky ignites
Turning to fire
But it’s too late to look back
As the wind carries me higher and higher

The light is blinding
Scolding my flesh
This skin that binds me
Starts to fall away
My soul’s refreshed

I forget everything
And just for a moment
I feel free
But just like everything else
It all comes back to me

Losing my breath
I plunge towards the ground
Secretly hoping for death
My heart slows down

This is a story of a girl
Who thought her heart was mending
Her soul, she thought, was free
And, maybe,it was
But her life was surely ending

Relapse

A few days after I posted “Cuts Leave Scars”, I had a really dark day. My rage got to hard to hold down and I just broke. I trashed my room. I pulled everything out of my desk and drawers. I sat on the floor, up against my bed, shaking, trying to breathe. I grabbed a pair of scissors from the mess on my floor and cut myself. At that point, the only thing running through my head was how completely and utterly unfair life is. I know people say “life’s not fair” all the time but, for me that phrase has had an unbreakable grip on me for as long as I can remember. I’ve always asked myself and my (now gone) faith, “why?” Out of all the people in this fucked-up world, why me? I grew up with my family always telling me that I was here for a reason, that I was a miracle and that I was going to change the way people saw those with disabilities. As a child, you want to believe everything your parents tell you and, until you reach a certain age, you do believe them.

To be honest, I don’t know what I believe anymore. For now, I’m just taking it day by day.

Music

It’s funny how sometimes in your darkest moments, you find that one thing that pulls you up to your feet, and that thing sometimes becomes your passion and your “saving grace”. For me, that thing is music. I think it was probably eighth grade when music really became everything to me. I remember one day in first period, my friend asked me if I had ever heard of the band All Time Low? Sad to say but, at that point in time, I hadn’t heard of them. Anyway, thank you Cecilia for introducing me to them because they opened my eyes to alternative music. When I listen to music, I pay more attention to the lyrics than anything else. Every time my mom and I are listening to a song and she turns to me and asks “What was that song even about?”, I always tell that she’s not really listening to the song, she’s just hearing it. I don’t think she fully understands what I mean and it’s hard to explain. When I’m listening to music, I can feel it spreading to every cell in my body. I can feel it pulsing through my veins, flowing to every extremity until my whole body is vibrating. I don’t know why music makes me feel like this and I don’t know why I crave it like an addict craves their next high. Maybe it’s because it is one of the few things that makes me feel alive anymore. All that I know is that music is the only thing that hasn’t disappointed me. When I feel like the water’s current is finally dragging me down, I hear music blaring and it gives me just enough energy to kick myself up to surface. Not a lot of people know this but, if I’m still here in the future, I would love to be a big songwriter. Obviously, I dream about being on stage singing my own lyrics, listening as people sing them back to me but, that’s never  going to happen, so maybe I can watch someone else sing my song and be content with knowing that even though it’s not my voice, it is my words and it is my message.

Ledge

You’re always there
In the back of my mind
Like nails on a chalkboard
Constantly whispering
“You’re forever mine”
I push you down
I drown you out
I smile and laugh
It’s our little secret now
Try to explain you to  people
They say they understand
But I don’t believe them, I can’t believe them
Our pain has never been and will never be equal
Now you’re screaming
Telling me to “just do it”‘
Wishing I was dreaming
I want to throw my hands up and say “screw it”
Then, I look into my father’s eyes and see the helplessness and fear
I look into my mother’s eyes and see the agony and guilt
Dripping off my chin falls scolding tears
As I take a step back from the ledge I have builtImage

Confusing!!!!

At first, I didn’t know the difference between a “page” and a “post’, so now I have like six pages but, from now on, I’m going to post most of writings instead making them separate pages of my blog.