the one i gave to you

& i don't know what i'm doing in this broken world anymore,

i've been pulling at the seams for far too long

and i'm inches from falling off,

falling away and down,

down,

down,

or up,

if i'm lucky.

& i've lost the pieces that i tore off

when i just couldn't handle the pain,

left them lying on random sidewalks in random towns,

sprinkled across this nation

and this state

because i didn't know where else to put them

other than all over this god forsaken world

where you can make me cry

by telling someone

my greatest secret.

& thats just not cool bro,

do you realize how much pain that caused me?

i know that you want to fix me,

i know that you want to sew me together again

and find all of my missing pieces,

but you just made another piece go missing,

the one i gave to you.

messed up, fucked up me

& i can't handle the pain,

the pain of losing you

because i just can't let anyone into my

messed up,

fucked up

head.

i'm sorry that i can't let anyone in,

i'm sorry that i'm too scared to let them pick me apart

at the seams

& gaze into the messed up chaos that is my mind,

i don't want them to tell me everything thats wrong with me

because, baby, i know whats wrong.

i know that its wrong to act this way,

to do these things,

but i can't just walk away like you did,

i've invested so much into this life

& i almost don't want to change,

even for you.

cause, baby, i'm scared of the doctor,

i'm scared of their institutions & their pills,

i'm terrified of the truth, of trusting.

& baby i'm so very sorry that i can't be what you wish i could be,

i'm sorry that i can't do what you wish i would,

i'm sorry that i'm so afraid,

i wish that you could understand.

i'm not ready for this yet.

don't worry

when i wrote myself onto paper

and exposed every last flaw and imperfection

you asked if it was true

and i said don't worry,

its just fiction.

when i sang myself into the breeze

in my effort to fly away

you held me down and asked me

where i was going

and i told you don't worry,

its just a melody.

when i danced myself into the ground

so that i could hide myself from the world

you pulled me to the surface

and asked me why

and i told you don't worry,

its just a movement.

when i wrote myself in words

and showed you the truth in letter

you asked me how

and i told you don't worry,

its just fiction.

stitch me together my love

i wish that you could fix me,

stitch together my broken pieces

and glue all of the leftovers

into a masterpiece

created from beautifully broken and shattered

me.

i wish that you would be around to

hold me together

with an infinite amount of ductape

and spider's thread,

replacing every stitch i break through

when i just can't handle the world

and so i cut it away.

honey, i wish that i could be

sewn back together

and held together with your love,

but i'm married to these

razor blades

and i will forever be slicing through

my pale skin and, in turn,

all of your efforts to pull me back

together.

but keep stitching me together my love,

keep me from pulling at the seams

and breaking away

because i'm inches from the edge

of breaking.

a look into my insanity

so I'm gonna be straight with you guys, even though I don't know if anyone actually reads my blog anymore anyway, but whatever. I need to get this off of my chest, I need to tell the truth.

I didn't cut for 5 months [I know, I couldn't believe it, it seemed to good to be true. it was.] and then I broke down and started up again. my tumblr for the last month and a half has basically been all about the fact that I think I am ugly, fat, worthless, alone, I don't let the good thoughts into my head. When someone tells me that they think I'm beautiful or that they think I'm amazing, smart, any compliment they give me I immediately think is a lie, same with when someone tells me that they love me. I let all of the bad stuff in, but I won't let the good stuff get past my ears or my eyes and that is really bad.
I know it is.
And so I was cutting and then, somehow, I stopped. It was great, I didn't have to worry about scars and new cuts anymore, I didn't have to hide. I was getting better. I didn't need depression meds and I went to a counselor every other, sometimes every, wednesday. Life was good, but I was still in pain. Just because everything seemed okay didn't mean that I was okay on the inside. I was just pretending, everything internally was still the same. I still didn't trust, I never spoke to my counselor about anything really personal, and I still wouldn't let anything good inside.

So after 5 months I gave up and started cutting again.
I stopped trying.
I stopped living.
I gave up.

And I got caught and told on, but I lied my way out of it and ended up not going to inpatient therapy for it and I convinced everyone that everything was fine. It wasn't. I was still cutting, but hiding it better than I had before. I did it [do it] on parts of my body that are not seen and almost all of my cuts are deep and bleed a lot.
I even passed out after cutting on Thanksgiving.
That is how bad it is now.

I have given up trying at this point. I'm so fucked up inside and I will never be able to let anyone in to help me. Ever.
I wrote a suicide letter a few days ago and I look at it a lot. I really have been thinking about that recently. I have been thinking about killing myself and everyday it seems like a better and better idea, but at the same time I am afraid that I will mess up my little sister's for life.
How am I supposed to know who would find me?
And there are these 4 brothers who I am really close to and they are like brothers to me and I was talking to their mom who told me that it would kill them if I killed myself and I would hate myself for doing that to them, but at the same time I think that the world would be so much better without me.

Well, that's my little "what's been happening" segment. Sorry its so goddamn depressing.

nothing more than nothing

& i just want to be called beautiful,

to be compared to the stars & the sea & the first snowfall.

i just want to feel like i'm not nothing,

that maybe i'm a little bit of something

& not just some cluster of meaningless energy

being tossed around in the breeze.

i just want someone to call me beautiful

& tell me that i matter,

maybe then i won't be cutting through these stitches

& picking at these cracks in my soul

because i just can't see myself as any more than nothing

& anything less that nonexistant.

but then again,

i'm not beautiful.
_________________________

i have low self confidence. for the rest of the week i'm just going to be posting a poem and maybe a little explanation if i feel like it is needed because i'm trying to post more. :)

i am not my name

it feels like my name is not my name,

not anymore.

i've lost it in my constant twirling,

whirling,

swirling

of thoughts and words,

what i once was and will never be

again.

it once felt right to think of myself,

defined by a name that i did not pick,

did not choose after months of deliberation and late nights

watching tv shows for inspiration

while drinking luke warm coffee

and watching fireflies in the arms of a lover, husband, friend.

now i can't see myself as more than this something,

this someone,

defined by a name that has been lost

in the words that i have tried so hard to define myself with

because i had nothing left to question,

but everything to wonder.

because i am no longer this person,

no longer this girl with blue eyes and red hair and countless smiles.

i am not the one you have defined by a name, by a thousand and two labels.

i am late nights watching fireflies and drinking luke warm coffee,

blue skies and sunsets of purple and pink and orange,

rainy days and rainbows filling the open sky,

questions and answers,

thoughts and imaginings.

i am words and letters and sentances and paragraphs,

but never a whole story

because my story has not been written,

yet.

i am a lover and the one they love,

the pulsing of two hearts against each other and the lingering smokey breath in cold winter air.

i am the ocean waves and the calm lakes,

the hunter and the hunted,

the fixer and the breaker.

i am all these things.

and i am more.

i am not the one you have defined,

can't you see?

this name is not mine because my name has not been written

in the dust and the dirt and the mud of this earth,

my name has not been spoken by the lips of the people of this world,

yet.
______________________

yep, i'm back!!! [with a new name and everything]
i missed posting so much and i'm going to do my best to post more often okay? :)