“Could you stop my heart? It's always beating. Sinking like a weight. I don't think I am okay. No not today . Now I know that it's not the same. Different people, different days. It won't change. It wasn't a suicide attempt, it was an escape from everything awful. When we cut, we're in control- we make our own pain and we can stop it whenever we want. Physical pain relieves mental anguish. For a brief moment, the pain of cutting is the only thing in the cutter's mind, and when that stops and the other comes back, it is weaker. Drugs do that too, and sex, but not like cutting. Nothing is like cutting. The cracks in the concrete remind that no matter how srong you are, you will always fall apart. My life is so full of old scars that there's no room for a new wound. How will you know if I'm hurting if you cannot see my pain? To wear it on my body tells what words cannot explain. Have you ever had that feeling? That itch just below the skin that only a razor could scratch? Sometimes I sit and watch the ink leak from my pen. It comforts me to know something else bleeds the way I do. Sometimes I wonder if it's really worth while. If I should keep going on, faking all these smiles. In that one instance I hated everyone in my life, everyone and everything, and me most of all. I just want to be happy again but I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore. It is the strong who survive and the weak who will simply fade. If I tell them I need help, my weakness will be displayed. You never know when you wake up, if all will be the same, or if you'll be back in your dark place, again to feel the pain. I cut to prove to you that you are not the only one that can hurt me. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. There is only one rain cloud in the sky...and it's raining on me. Somehow I'm not surprised. It's not supposed to be like this. Can this be all there is? You dream bigger, you fall harder. Think of things that should've never happened. You think of all the things that never will. All my life, Ive welcomed pain. Ive made up more excuses to bring it back again. Now Im here and Ill drink to the shame. Ill drink to the madness that made me this way. I'd show a smile but Im too weak. I'd share with you could I only speak. Just how much this hurts me. Do you ever smile and find it shameful 'cause you don't know who you are? Sometimes, it's the things that don't hurt at all that make you cry. In reality, I'm slowly losing my mind. Underneath the guise of a smile gradually I'm dying inside. Friends ask me how I feel and I lie convincingly. Cause I don't want to reveal the fact that I'm suffering. So I wear my disguise til I go home at night and turn down all the lights and then I break down and cry. The sky isn't always blue. The sun doesn't always shine. So it's okay to fall apart sometimes. I bleed for you, that's why I cut. These simple scars are just deep thoughts. You do it to yourself...and that's why it really hurts. Behind this inoccent smile of mine, lay words left unsaid. Words of longing, love,anger, and hate, all repeating inside my head. The best part of what has happened was the part I must have missed. Every minute is a mile. I've never felt so hallow. I'm an old abandoned church with broken pews and empty aisles. They say you need to pray if you want to go to heaven But they don't tell you what to say when your whole life has gone to Hell. See these scars on me? I'm just marking territory. Die young and save yourself. It takes a silly girl to lie about the dreams she has. But, lord it takes a lonely one to wish that she had never dreamt at all. Happiness is not a fish that you can catch. This is where I say I've had enough. No one should ever feel the way that I feel now. You can lock your doors and windows to keep the pain at bay. Yesterday may be dead and gone, but the past won't go away. It's waiting right around every corner with a heartache you don't need. Self-injury is a sign of distress not madness. We should be congratulated on having found a way of surviving. I cant stop thinking about cutting myself up. Visual bruises can be covered with make-up. But down to the core, Im all bruises. You can't see that I'm hurting. You're too blind to notice my pain. It feels like everyone is sitting in the sunshine, while I'm drowning in the rain. I certainly didnt tell anyone; I didnt advertise that I was doing this, but I didnt necessarily also make sure no one could see that I was injured. In fact, I felt proud of it; I felt good about it. It was like a battle scar: [it] proved [that I had been] grievously wounded and survived. [When I hid my scars, I did so because] I didnt want anyone to think I was a basket case or a mental case and to look down on me or to pity me or to stop hanging out with meleave me because they couldnt handle me¦ I was trying to get”
