its something author understands. TWselfharm and suicide
here i am but im nto sure if i a maon the right channel
im here thought i think if only for a mintue
but i guess thats just all i need is a minuet
im feeling over whleming thoughts of sucide every time she cuts my hair
but thats just something isay so i dont trigger anyone larger in the group
because if that happenes then what isay will go out theindow into someone elese head
and you know i dont like looking at the screen to fix mistakes becasue things change so quickly it is better to jsut focus on getting it all out atonce before someone else comes to save the day and ruin everyhintg ij ust talked about
but thats okay becsaue ill stay the same and be ther girl i used to be becasue atleast people played with me and talked about me but it was never who i truely was but atleast that was how people nejoed to see me me. something social and somethign sweet something just for a momemtn to be someone i wasnt or used to be so they could see the real me again
but thats soemthing i didnt mean either i didnt mean to talk about that and my fingers ar jumping over the keys like hot bandages over a saassge pattie siunday.
and things just have this habiit of sounding nice or funny so i go ahead and say them without really thinking about what that means but that isnt always something i do just something i dont like to think about often out lous around them, thinking about things i could or couldnt say never really sat well with me and poelple say hould your tounge but im more like lmoeonade sour and sweet with that bitter taste of lonleiness knocking at the door again beging me to let her out to have a good twisted fun.
but you owuld never know about it with the way i talk with tha way i thalk its all just letters and numbers and messgaes to get across to other people but it was never relaly someothing i was good with doing so i would sing a song in the closet just to make sure we would all get along and singing has always been something i was good at you know maybe not in the way of going to an opera but i do like to think of myself as asomeone who will sing like and open book.
you make me want to take myself more seriously in this life becsaused the life i had before was always empty handed gestures from people i barely even knew and things would always esculate to something more thant i would be willing to say but the thing is as my fingers slap scross these keys like the socres of a board game theres nothing more that i am willing to sell my soul for than a chance of freedom to chose to talk to you but instead ill run ustairsa nad find some place to hid in because in these clothes i am just the girl fron yesterday and in those close im just the girl im trying to be and i will never find myself in a n outfit that i will be wearing until im comfortbale in in but every time i get a chance to see myself in the mirror your right next to me calling me names and telling me that im not the way i should be
but thats not right becasue i want to be here where i want to be safe in my oen skin and not judging me for the clothes that i am in.
here i am getting in the way here i ma being the one to blame here i am goiing back to the living room because its better than my closet and the end of the night ill be all cracked up again about what to owatch and what to wear but then it will be another day again where i dont feel like fitting in
becuae fittign in is a chice right its the things that we do to get approvedable from those watching us and around us but its never something you do toj ust get away from the bullshit or empty spcace instead this is used to give you an excuse why you cantinclude me in anything butyour own space.
you think i gave all this up just to show you something differnt about life no i gave all this up just so i could see something differnet in life these was a chance fory ou to experience me in a way that i have never gaven anyone an opputunity to do and thing is something im willing to keep trying at but that doesnt mean it comes easy and that doesnt meani i dont think abouti t that it doesnt haunt me but in my eyes googles eyes the eyes that watch us when we sleep. thoses are the rreasons i count my blessings evey night they are why i am still here writing your name in the sand like your going to come and find me. you are not waht i used to me and you will not be what i will become but you will always be apart of me and who i am as i stand in the mirror and beg mysel not to judge others like you judged me. but thats a safe conversation one that you can take for the money and run away with all the lies you ever shed on others all the dismain and belitting you put out into this world to teach me how to be better,litter did you fail,little did you take the time to yeld me with praiess of how good i was doing or how speical my achivements were to you. but not your here,just a ghost without a body to sell. you are nothing more thant the thoughtd of yestersay fading in the wind of what will dift here tomorow. in the storm of the hurrican voices that shatter when they hit the back of my skull, i will paint a picture for you of a siomple good bye, here is my arm and here is my sorrow you have nothing left to ask to borrow.
