Dr.Barbara asks me to sit still, while she injects the medicine into me. The needle is huge. When I feel the needle touch me, and move my arm purposefully... Next thing you know there's blood gushing down my arm. "Whoops," I say.

I hate that mood when I dont feel like talking to anyone, faking a smile, pretending to be happy like I always do, but at the same time, I dont know what's wrong

I'm not made of steel.
Therefore, I cut like blade though paper
My heart is protected by thin tissue
Easily ripped apart.
Oh how i wish it's walls were build with bricks,
So they can stop the suicidal words
my little heart..
takes within.

I liked yours nonsense status just to drag your attention...commented upon yours worthless status just to show that I'm still alive.

Most of the time, the only person saving you is yourself...

-from my poem Little Girls Eyes-

Why do we have feelings? All they do is bring us pain...

The smile is gone
I'm really not okay
The knife calls out to me
The pain is here to stay.

I'm not fine, I'm in pain. It gets harder every damn day.

"I didn't know you could laugh one second and feel dead inside the second after..."

I'm always afraid of being yelled at, being hurt, made fun of. I'm always afraid of feeling the pain that i feel every moment of the day...