Behind this innocent smile of mine, lay words left unsaid. Words of longing, love, anger, and hate, all repeated inside my head.

In that one instance I hated everyone in my life, everyone and everything, and me most of all.

Rock bottom is good solid ground, and a dead end street is just a place to turn around.

There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with.

She's not the kind of girl who likes to tell the world about the way she feels about herself.

I'm hurting so bad inside I just wish you could see... I'm struggling to be someone that isn't even close to me.

No one can see the pain what we hide, they're happy for us to keep it inside, our fear is our own; they don't want to know. Why should we involve them; why should it show?

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.

There's a smile on my face but I don't know why it's there... I put it on to satisfy all the people that don't even care.

I know it seems like I'm this strong person who can get though anything, but inside I'm fragile. I've had so many things thrown at me, and each one has only made a crack. What I'm afraid of is shattering.