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I could feel Margaret and my mum watching me. I coughed and felt blood land in my hands. I wanted to get away and I wanted to get away quickly.
I decided I'm going to start making a blog. I already have a twitter, Facebook and tumblr but this one I can really let my hair down and relax without anyone I know personally finding out.
I hate that smile, the one I plaster on my face, the one that says I'm happy. The only thing that tells otherwise are my words. The words that honestly tell you I'm not okay.
"Why do you care If I make myself dead. And why do you never Leave my mind or my head, And why are my eyes Always drawn to your lips?" She asks Marcus's picture, And gives it a kiss.
She looks in the mirror with a blank expression, She hates herself; it's a true confession. When she smiles, it's very rare, Because she's conscious and feels so bare.
Marcus is trying, To calm himself down, As the girl watches him, With a small, little frown. "Why do you care?" She whispers in pain. Her eyes, their color, They drive him insane.
Broken shattered fragments Imbedded within my heart Lacerations of insecurities Unravel as the ending starts I cry unto my tortured mind 'Make it stop. Stop the pain. It is not fair or just or...
Wandering through Opuss recently I noticed a disproportionate amount of people expressing feelings of being alone and struggling with exams/life.
When you miss someone, there is always some kind of constant reminder of that one person. It could be an object, or even a action or a smell.
Outside the sky felt like an oppressive blanket. Bruise like purple and heavy, about to smother the life out of me.
When I can't deal with things I do one of two things 1. Punch someone or something 2. Cry I know which is less painful ( 1.
When I can't deal with things I do one of two things 1. Punch someone or something 2. Cry I know which is less painful ( 1.
Trevor had been friends with Mister Pettifer ever since he’d first found him propped up on a bench in the park.
The boy sat on the floor in his bedroom, it was dark and gloomy, and clothes and other things were on the floor. He was but 11, but sitting with a dozen small white pills in his hand.
"Levitate" Can't stop I need some help. F*ck you, I'm by myself Is it a truth or lie. It's what you can't deny.
You don't understand how much pain and sadness I'm going through right now... It may appear to you that I'm okay but in reality I'm not.
I sound weak. I sound tired. I sound sick. Just don't talk to me. I'm done with you. I'm done with her. I hate myself. And I really do. Help me please. I am unloved. I feel my heart beating.
Marcus stops, and he stares At the girl with those *eyes*. That are blue and more gorgeous Than any sunrise.
The next day she cleans Out her locker of stuff. "A shot to the head Will be quite good enough." She wonders how on Earth She'll get hold of a gun. "Ah, there is evil girl.
Now back to the girl, Her name is Tasha McFee. She's still crying, and whispers Stop harassing me." Her parents knock, But she cries harder and shrieks, "Why did you have me.
After the burial of my uncle, things at home went from bad to worse, my mum already wasn't taking care of herself, I had to make sure she was taking her medication.
Deep in depression, need a high,. Can't help but sit back and watch the world go by,. Unable to move, unable to speak,. Fingers through my hair, the breath on my neck reeks,.
She's bold, daring. She doesn't really care about what people think about her. She's honest and funny, and definitely not afraid to speak her mind. But because of all this, she is bullied.
Pressure. A word with the power to break someone. Pressure from friends. Pressure from classmates. Pressure from teachers. Pressure from myself. I am not broken yet.