I wish tears Would fall but I feel nothing at all There’s this dull ache Inside that doesn’t go away Wake up, get ready, eat, Go to school, get home, Finish my homework, eat, Study, shower, sleep, repeat Over and over, weekend comes And goes but I never did seem To get enough sleep The constant questioning if I’m okay finally stopped from All but my parents, everyone Else believed the mask Lost my extrovert and out-going Self falling into the lies that My ‘friends’ and bullies feed me Everything is draining, and I don’t Feel anything apart from tiredness Everyday I pray to be able to feel Something, gain some energy, and To break out of this daily pattern If only I could feel something, Anything other than mentally and Physically tired Bottling everything while keeping The mask on is exhausting I just wish That could yell or cry just something, Anything to save me from Spiraling deeper

** My heart starts to squeeze in my chest, emptying me. ** ** Lines of fire burn at my flesh, I shut my eyes.** **I rub my arm...** **up and ****up and****** **** ** down ** ** down ** **** ** I focus on that. ** **** ** Slowly, my chest feels ****ˡ****ᶦᵍ****ʰ****ᵗᵉʳ****** **and my arms feel as if they were ****_wittled _****on.** ****

Fists on the wall, blood on the victim. Bruises on my skin, open wounds. Shining light, crimson trickling. Thought you were my life. Proving you wrong like; “Now taste my knife.” Metal down your throat, Laughing at the irony. Love the way you croak; “I still love you.” Grabbing the guns, cocking. Watching this exorcise. Souls start screaming, Ain’t no compromise. Watching the tick and the turn. Bullet rounds, skipping steps. Making your stomach churn. Hopscotch, hit the concrete. Your skull busted and bloody. Pieces scattered, cleaning lady. “Please don’t get it on my hoodie.” Hitting the guns, bullets fly. Blades sharpened, trapped. No, won’t get caught with it; sly. Cold and frozen flesh. Hangs in my basement. Quiet! Be quiet! “Hush.” Ripping your eyes out. “Now be free, my love.” This ain’t for no clout. It’s a game of sport! Ah, what fun it is, darling. End the game and hit the port.

Upon dawns break, A silent pulse begins to thrum, The air itself is charged With an indescribable energy Pulsating between us, Drawing me closer to you with An irresistible magnetism.

nothing at all even miss our midnight call for I need rest in my everlasting relaxation and you prohibit that you constantly take and take until I’m empty nothing left yet you hide me from the rest I thought this was love but why do you do that? pretend I’m just a girl not someone you bound your every sinful thought to for I read minds even your bad intentions yet I didn’t see the signs for I can only have all of you or none because half is never enough so until you choose I continue to do nothing I will be waiting at our spot until the woods devour all I see the crickets tell me to leave warning of the night creatures wanting something to eat then I go home and wait by the phone still…nothing for as distant as I my heart may seem I still ache for you you, you, you there’s a spot in my heart just for you yet it’s easily replaceable

Darkness scratches at my door. Demons lurk beneath the surface. The floor churns and creaks. Black here and there. Fire burns and wounds drip. Small emotions leak. Drowning Joy. Killing Freedom. Stabbing Happiness. Choking Laughter. Strangling Smiles. Now they lay beneath the soil. Joy, Freedom, Happiness. Laughter and Smiles. How I miss them… Just out of my reach. I can almost touch- Yet darkness reaches out- And swallows all five whole.

A tear runs down Her prepped up face, She lifts her gown And shifts in place. No person here Seems to see The man that follows Her closely. He wears a ring Much like her own But his is tainted From blood and bone. He takes her hand And squeezes tight “My darling put on A show tonight.”

At first, you convince yourself otherwise, caught in a delicate dance of self-deception. You smile at everyone, hoping that they smile back, but they never do. Calling people by their names becomes a desperate attempt to forge bonds, but that borrowed warmth fades along with your forced smile. You walk with your head down, your ears covered, attempting to hide yourself from sights and sounds, to escape the truth. It’s when you’re in the safeness of your room that reality crashes down upon you. You might cry or you might just sit in silence, allowing the truth to hit you repeatedly. Words remain unspoken, you never talk, never look. In crowds of people, you stand apart, a whisper carried by the wind and it reminds you, "You have no one." And so, the ache of isolation becomes your closest friend and it stays with you forever. You’ll never admit it, even though it’s obvious: You’re alone. You’re alone. You’re alone.

TW sh, ed I began by losing interest in the things that used to bring me joy, the people who used to light up my world now just reminded me how dark it is. I slowly lost all hope that I have for myself, and the scary thoughts crept into my head. What would it be like if I wasn’t here anymore? I ask myself every night while I slice open my skin, hoping the external pain takes away from all the pain I feel inside. The scars up and down my legs were a reminder of the pain that I feel, of the pain that I deserve. My illness is slowly killing me from the inside out with every meal I skip, every cut I make, every thought that makes me wonder what the point of living is anymore. I’m forgetting how to sleep, forgetting how to breathe, forgetting everything I learned when I was in the state of mind that they call recovery. Haunted dreams plague my nights when I finally exhaust myself enough and remember to take my pills, ruining the sleep that I worked so hard to earn. Now I’m constantly ruminating over my past mistakes, over the people I feel I’ve disappointed. I stuff my feelings into a little ball and stuff it deep inside my heart, hoping to forget them but with every day I let them sit they grow, they multiply, transforming my mind into a battlefield where all my soldiers are weak from disease the disease that is slowly taking my life away from me. The life I’m living isn’t a life worth living. But it’s not that I truly want to die, I just don’t want to live. I don’t want to be forever trapped in this world of gray. But the second I begin to feel better I begin to miss my sickness. Because who the hell am I if I’m not sick anymore?

“Why won’t you play with me anymore? We used to love playing together. What happened?” The little boy asked, tears shining in his eyes. The girl shrugged, turning to look out the window to hide the wetness of her eyes. “I grew up, buds,” she whispered, tracing a raindrop as it fell down the window. “I grew up.”