When I was in 5th grade
I didn’t know what depression was
I just knew that I didn’t want to get out of bed
and face my many tormentors
who sometimes called themselves my
best friends
and I came home one day
laid down in the snow
and screamed at the top of my lungs that
I wanted to die
as my friends walked away laughing
that year i spent more time in the guidance counselors office
than I did in my desk that was purposely pushed into the corner
of the room and that is where it stayed
because I was tired of trying
When I was in 6th grade
I knew what depression was
I knew why I didn’t want to get out of bed
so I didn’t face my tormentors
who were also my friends and I
stayed at home
telling everything to my closest friend
who turned out to be my worst tormentor
and every word I said
was spread around my school
passed back and forth on pieces of paper
and typed into chat rooms with screenames
that are long forgotten now
In 7th and 8th grade
I kept the same friends
hung out in a group
that I forced myself into
but was never actually a part of
I gained new tormentors
because they were no longer friends
my definition of a friend became
someone who let me sit at
their lunch table instead of
eating it in the bathroom
In 9th and 10th grade
there were days when
I didn’t leave my bed
weeks when I didn’t
step foot into school
months where I didn’t
talk to anyone
and when I did I didn’t
know where those words were going to
end up once they left my mouth
because once they left my mouth
they weren’t my words anymore
the feelings no longer belonged to me
they were on display for everyone
to see
and hear
and laugh at the girl
who can’t get out of bed
These were my friends
the people I trusted
and ever since
my idea
my defintion
of what it means
to be a friend
has been warped
and I thought that image was clear
again after so many years
of trying to fix that word
and now it’s gone
and I’m not sure it will ever come back.
-what it means to be a friend
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Whenever I want to die and I open up to you about it, you just tell me “be happy” like it is a decision. If it was a decision I would have been fucking happy by now. And then you want me to restart and be happy even if it’s fake because you like me better when I’m happy.
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i’m jealous of the rain that falls upon yours skin
it’s closer than my hands have been
i’m jealous of the rain
i’m jealous of the wind that ripples through your clothes
it’s closer than your shadow
i’m jealous of the wind
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even if you’re not here to stay
i’m happy that the universe allowed
your soul to stop by
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when you hold my hand
do you want to hold my heart
when you say you love me
is it all of me or just one part
cause if you don’t actually want me
go before you tear me apart
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i want you to hold my hand and look at me in my eyes and tell me that you’ll never let me go
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how do you turn a forest fire like me into a small flame that can flicker away any second
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i was so stupid in love with you. i loved every single piece of you with every part of me. i felt as if i needed you to breathe. we were so awkward and it made our relationship so amazing and corny. rereading all our messages breaks my heart and my eyes fill up with tears. i can’t help but miss you and still want you. every time each one of us have wanted to get back together there is always someone in between. i’m in pieces and torn up without you but i will always keep a place in my heart for our love that was thought to last “forever”.
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“where did my daughter go? what happened to my little girl?” my mom asks.
well, she was killed when you yelled at her for being useless.
she was killed when she tore her heart and soul open trying to please you.
“what happened to the time where you were affectionate and loving? where did that girl go?”
she was killed when you told her to loose weight, try to look pretty, and wear uncomfortable clothing.
she now hides within herself because you made her feel empty.
you killed her, you changed her.
now she is gone and is never coming back.
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it is said that eyes are the gateway to the soul. i didn’t believe that mainly because they are not literally the gateway to someones soul. i believed that until i met him. i guess you can say his eyes are blue, but that is an understatement. when you first see his eyes they look like ice. when you look into them you suddenly get the the chills and your body gets numb and cold. but then he smiles and they glow. they turn to a different blue. they are not the ordinary blue. they are blue like the color of the sea. when you look into his eyes you can picture the crystal clear blue water. you can hear the waves churning and crashing into the sand and see the foam flying into the air. his sea is so deep that you are afraid to jump into it, but are still tempted to. they are like the blue when the sky starts to fade to night. they are iridescent and fleck with every shade of blue. he basically has his own sky inside of him. the twinkle in his eyes is the most beautiful thing that you can ever witness. everything that you could see in his eyes led to his soul.
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do you ever feel so depressed that you push the ones that you love the most away? i’ve just ran out of energy pretending that i’m okay, so i just stop.
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welcome to my ted talk.
i fucking hate myself. i fucking hate myself. i fucking hate myself.
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today it rained, and i went outside and sat in it. because if i sit in the rain, i can drown in something other than my thoughts.
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