I'm gone it's too late there's no saving me...but wait, maybe not; maybe I have a hope, a chance to be saved, to live instead of exist....but....that's a big 'maybe' that 'May' never 'Be'...

Pain galore and more to come.
Pain that heaps and eyes that weep,
this is me, bared for all to see.

I just stole my heart back from the one whom I love but almost destoryed me, causing much more damage to my heart and leaving deeper gashes in it's flesh! IT HURTS SOOOO MUCH!

How do you cope with the fact that each poem you write ends up being for the one who broke you?

It hurt when you told me that no one would ever like a girl with more scars and cuts than friends. It hurt even more because I loved you and because sadly you were right.

I miss the way I used to be. I miss the way I used to feel. I miss the girl who died and left me in her place.

I am more dead than alive. I cry more than I sleep. I cut more than I eat. Is there something wrong with me?

It's hard to live life when you have friends that don't understand. It's even harder when have no friends at all.

The shadows in the corner of a room. The shadows by a faded light. These shadows are depression. The type that takes you and swallows you whole.

Nightmares haunt me. Each one revealing a little more of your evil face.