(I take no credit, these are not mine)

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"I'm fine."
I'm too much of a coward to ask for help.

"Go away."
You won't stay, I know you don't care.

"I'm tired."
It hurts so much, I can't take it anymore.

"I'm cold."
I don't want you to see my scars.

"I ate already."
I hate my body, I starve myself.

"I'm better, I promise."
I've relapsed and relapsed.. I couldn't be worse.

"I'm okay."
I wish I would just die.

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Self-harm:

You see it as them hurting themselves too much.
They see it as never hurting enough.

Anorexia:

You see them as just skin and bones.
They see a huge number on a scale.

Bulimia:

You see it as too many trips to the bathroom.
They see it as, "I ate too much."

Suicide:

You see it as unexpected and surprising.
They see it as the only option.

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One minute I'm doing okay,
and the next I feel like
the walls are closing in,
I'm being caved in inside my own head,
and my heart starts sounding
like a thousand drums all at once.

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(This is the only one that's mine)

My parents only knew something was wrong when my grades started dropping. And still, all they said was:

Try harder

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She got quieter
Her nights got longer
Her blades got bigger
Her sleeves got longer
Her meals became smaller
She became skinnier
Her music got louder
And no one
Noticed

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"Why did you try to kill yourself?"

"You told me to be happy."

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As she pulls up her sleeve
Removes the bracelets
Reveals her skin
The jagged, ugly scars
The scars the represent a million tears
She can't say anything
Nothing at all

Except for two words
"I'm sorry"

And she's not sure who to

Herself, her friends, her poor bleeding skin
But she's falling apart
And therefor
She feels the need to apologize

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Sometimes I don't want things to get better.

Sometimes I want things to get really bad so I have a reason to kill myself.

Sometimes I wish people didn't care, so I could kill myself without feeling bad.

Does that make me a shit person?

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It's hard to keep a secret when it's written in red all over your body.

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I was dealing with all this pain emotionally, and I felt guilt and shame, I decided to take it out on myself, I harmed myself.
It was my way of taking my own shame and my own guilt out on myself.

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Self-harm is no joke.

You always hear how self-harmers are "Emo" or "Attention seekers" but self-harm is not a joke, it takes a lot to get to the point of turning mental pain into physical pain. When you sit there, and make fun of them, you're just making them pull down their sleeves, put on a pair of pants, and hide their skin even more. You're pushing them further and further into a hole, and if you don't be careful with what you say, that hole will turn into their grave.

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He came to me

And pulled up his sleeve
And handed me a knife

With tears in his eyes

Saying "Cut me"

I looked at
Him confused

He said through tears
"I can't stand to see you
hurting yourself so
If you need to cut
Something cut me"

And in that moment
I broke into tears
And hugged him
And never let go

Because true love
Is when you don't
Care if you have to
Be in pain
As long as the one you love
Is happy.

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You'd think
That when we took a blade
To our skin
We'd be in a panic.
Crying.
Hyperventilating.
Sobbing uncontrollably.
But really,
When we feel our skin
Split in two
Is when we feel the
Most calm

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It would be too easy to say that I feel invisible. Instead, I feel painfully visible and entirely ignored.

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You probably don't understand.
Most people don't.
You will never understand
How much anger
How much self hatred
Someone must have
To take a razor to themselves
And cut into their own skin.

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Hush little baby you're almost dead.
Lay down your struggles and rest your head.
Calm your mind. Let yourself go.

You won't be missed no one will know.

Hush little baby it's time to die.
Time to scream an unheard goodbye.
Your broken song will go unsung.
It's sad to loose a life so young.

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I think I'm afraid to be happy.

Because when I get too happy...

Something bad always happens.

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The scars start to fade
And to the urge to bring
Them back becomes
Stronger and stronger

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(This is another thing written by me)

Sometimes there isn't a reason for the scars that people have.

But there is a story behind each and every one.

There is a story of sadness and hurt and brokenness that they conquered.

Because you are beautiful.

Because you are strong.