Emo? I think notSo, because I have cuts on my wrists, arms, legs, hips and stomach, I am Emo.Think again,Emo is for losers with nothing better to doEmo is a fad that people follow because it's "cool" to cut yourself.Emo is a label applied to everyone who self harms, whether they are or notEmo is a derogatory term used by teenagers to make fun of cuttersEmo is a word belonging only to those who have no REAL reason to be sad.I, my friend, am a cutter...Being a cutter is feeling completely worthless.Being a cutter is feeling like your heart has been ripped to bloody shreds, without it's constant beat ever ceasing.Being a cutter is not wanting to get up in the morning because you feel like no one would give a fuck if you weren't there.Being a cutter is not knowing where you get the strength to continue living.Being a cutter is considering suicide as the only way things will ever get any better.Being a cutter is wishing for a serious accident to land them in the hospital to see if anyone cares
Is My Heart Broken?I don't understandWhy my heart beats the way it doesWhen I see your smiling face.
BeautifulI felt beautiful today.I didn't straighten my hair,And I didn't put on makeup.I closed my white blinds and letThe light shine throughFor a fresh background.I stole my fathers camera,Turned on my iPod, and began to dance.I held it away and smiled,Letting the -click- of the shuttersBlend with the music, forming its own beat.I grinned and twirled in one of my sister's dresses,Not giving a care should she walk in.I laughed and fiddled with my hair,I was coy and shy and natural.I shed my shell of T-Shirts and jeans,And let myseelf be free.I look at the pictures I had taken and said,Oh- there you are.I've been looking for you.
TrappedHere I am. Why don't you see me? The real me. Do I have to scream for you to hear that I'm dying inside? I'm trapped here, inside my own head. You see my mask. The one I don't even realize I put up. You never ask me what's wrong. You never ask me about the cutting. It makes me feel like you don't see me. I know you love me. You guys are my best friends. Don't get me wrong, I don't want you guys on top of me all the time, asking if I'm okay. But it would be nice if, just once, when I lie and say I'm great, if you would look me in the eye and say "No your not, tell me the truth"I am an eccedentesiast, just a big word meaning I fake a smile. I'm one of those few people who, when faking a smile, can make it look real. Too real. If you watch, to see how long it takes for that smile to fade, it was barely even there.
For him.For the guy who told her in his native tongue,For the guy who tells her every day,For the guy who holds her close,For the guy who does because he's scared to lose her,For the guy who can admit that,For the guy who would die for her,For the guy who's cried for her,For the guy who holds her hand,For the guy who knows she's perfect,For the guy who knows she's everything to him,For the guy who lost her,For the guy who lost his mind for her,For the guy who sacrificed,For the guy who knows she couldn't love him as much as he loves her,For the guy who stayed anyway,Thank you.For the guy who doesn't tell her often enough,For the guy who said it but didn't know if he meant it,For the guy who's lost without her,For the guy who doesn't know what to say,For the guy who doesn't know how to feel,For the guy who doesn't know he made her feel,for the first timein a long time.For the guy standing outside her door,searching for the words,Now you know what to do.......
RainStormy, Dreary, And wet. Nothing to do today... Except sit and stare, out my sadly empty window...
dear alaina.dear alaina,i am not being passive-aggressive. i am not avoiding confrontation or arguments or sensitive subjects so that i won't get upset: i'm writing a letter that i can't imagine you'll see, explaining to you everything that i need you to know.i'm sorry i'm not better. i'm sorry that i'm not trying. i'm sorry, but i can't, not now. i wish you could understand, without any fear or worry, that i need to destroy myself before i can get better. it's like i'm a phoenix, needing to catch fire and turn to ash before i can be reborn. i need to be the biggest source of pain and misery in my life; i can't let anyone else have the power to hurt me more than i have hurt myself already.it's not enough to tear myself apart, in every sense that i can. it's not enough to pull strings of skin from the teeth of my razor and clutch toilet paper from the public bathroom to my arm like if i don't, i might die - in all hones
SuicideSuicide. As I move my fingers across the keys, The letters forming as if onpuppet strings. They create a sentence a word