...

Does it ever seem like you just keep getting more and more lonely as time goes on?

Suicide wasn't a thing...

So.
I'm still here and stuff.
I told a dear friend that this blog was really just another way to hurt myself.
The essence of masochism.
An artist is what i would like to consider myself but this blog is the anti art...
It's just sad, and just to damn real.
So, that is all it is. It's just a blog.
Nothing poetical or really nice about it.

I ate today. I've eaten every day.
I just try not to eat, is the thing. It's gross and makes me feel dirty and wrong.

I havent cut in three days.

Still alive....

Suicide notes.

... you started writing goodbye notes to your friends because you new that you would die by your own hands sooner or later. But then, as you wrote them, you found yourself slipping and smiling at old memories which made you cry even harder. Love hurts. Especially when you are trying to say goodbye to it.

I can see peoples flitful glances toward my sleeves. The nervous twitches. Insanity makes people uncomfortable. Comfortable or not, they should be ready to face the truth. The truth is pain. It's like a little spore that lodges in your heart and then grows into a fungus that takes over your entire being. If you know anything about fungus, it's not the easiest thing to actually get rid of...

Trapped.

Sometimes its just hard to say it.

Another poem.

My arms are sand paper
Lay down a beat
My heart's a wash board
Make a rythm of me
Sculpt my body into someting new
Scult my life into something old
Turn value of the fading blue
Into someting old
and something new

Take the values of the day
Of the ever changing grey
And sketch the light out of my night
Breaking bricks
And breaking bones
Scatter the dust into a box
Bury it on the mountain tops

My arms are sand paper
Scratched
My heart is a wash board
Played

Turn me
Hold me
Sway me
Change me

Sing me into a peice of art
and hang me up upon a wall
Turn me into something new
and something never known at all

But before you chisel my life away
Sing me to sleep
In the midst of the day
My arms are sand paper
My mind is grey
Feel the beat
Make a rythm of me

Peaches.

No cuts or bruises, just little tiny heartaches.
Just little tiny heart strings out of tune being pulled back into pitch.
Just a kiss good day and a kiss goodbye
Just illusions and delusions
And just a soul to tell speeches to and a hand to hold.
Never knew the road could be so inviting
when a mother could be so biting
and yet she pulls you in
like the lake pulls stars out of the sky and reflcts them from the inside out.
You Juliets
Who gives a damn about the love you gave,
its just the love you made that dies we see.
Just walking to the window
Wishing i could jump out and into the snowy sky
Who knew the day, the night, and all the bits in between,
could fill one with such expectancy for yet the other moment.
Oh, baby's screaming, oh my darling demon
Mama's not alright but she'll put up a good fight
and Sister's off in lala land
damn the ones who don't demand.
Just sitting in a corner waiting for it all to pass,
but realizing it never will until i step out into the grass
and then i can see that the grass leads to dirt
and a road
and a home
far away, with a friend, just a soul
to hear eloquent speeches
and drunkenly sweet peaches
to peal and to pull
and just sitting on the beach nibbling freely.
Damn the right way and the wrong way,
my broken words aren't meant for paper, yet i write.
My songs are not meant for ears, yet i sing.
My fingers
oh my hands
My bloody bloody hands.
Here we go.
Here we are.
Where's the road my darling?
All i see is shattered pieces.
pieces of what?
Pieces of hearts
you fool.
Why break them?
yet you do.
You've broken every dear friends heart.
Wheres the soul to hold your hand and hear your speeches and eat your peaches?
Where is the peace?
The peace is on the beach, all alone, in the world
in a place
where no one sees
yet they still hear
the beating of a heart that wishes for another beating heart to steal.

Lost again.

She looked down and there she saw the little shreds of red staring back at her. Those replicas of the long lost traces of her mind and her soul written there, right on her arm.
"I dont know what to say. I dont know what to do. All i know is that there's this lovely little feeling that shoots up my arms, leaving me with a tingly sensation behind my eye's."
Lost again. Yeah, she's drowning. Drowning in something red.

Pretend is not a fun game.
She plays pretend every day.

"I've heard it all. I am loved? Not for what i am. I just have to get by somehow. I just have to develope myself with this defect."
She's gone.
"I'd like to leave the house, but I can't."
Is there a point in trying to stop her from opening up that little box of blades now?

This thing...

After a night of glee and laughter here and there, and not to mention the general happy fasad of summer... there's this thing. This thing of which I'm referring to,  haunts me when I'm awake and caught in those moments of loneliness, in my bedroom, or in the corner of the house at an awkward period of time when the outside noises fade and my mind is left to itself to think and muse.... and then the thing creeps up through the floor boards and into my skin and chills every little happy thought in my head...

-_-

Day 9 of no self- harm. Well... exhausted is the little girl again. Yet, she has a purpose.. so, she soldiers on.

Dear Charlotte,
I see you have been "soldiering on," yet how weary you are...
I fear you shall never rest. How bittersweet it is to have no more beautiful battle wounds. You are plain and undefined and lost.

... i shall run away and be a pirate.

Day 6....
Well, the lightbulb armies in the sky are being covered up by long melting taffy clouds in the sky today. Don't know what to think. But i'd love to go find some treasure chests on an island far faaaaaaaar away.

Dear Charlotte,
Ah, here we are. So, you've been crying in your best friends arms this evening i see? Talk about pathetic... Why are you so soft? You know you can't ever give a whole heart to a friend ever again. Because your heart is a broken one. The end of this book is coming, my dear. It is coming and you can't stop it. Don't drag your poor little friends down with you. It seems that you are just a constant circle of never ending weakness that continuously drags every love down to hell. Enjoy the ride darling.. just know that life is a forever farewell. The end is going to hurt them. But hey, you can end it sweetly, at least.

Day 5 of "goodbye self-harm"

Ah, day 5. I hate you? I love you? Where are my friends when i cannot tell them about my little love affair with with the scissors and knives and monsters and demons and persons that are knocking at my minds window panes. I wonder if the glass is going to brake any time soon?

Lets hope not. 

Dear Charlotte, (alternate self/character of me)

I saw you in the mirror today and you looked like a bit of a lunatic. See, the pretty pictures on your arms need more color and i swear you've gained 15 pounds this summer. What the fuck are you doing? Also, Charlotte? You're kind of a slut.. what are you thinking? Letting boys kiss you, and hang out with you. You'll never be good enough for a real guy. Just look at the one your hearts gone for. Yeah... you'll never be good enough. Also, what happened to being true to yourself? You gave yourself 100 days and now you have given up on your whole plan. You're hopeless, and gutless. You can't even go through with your own suicide. You'll never be able to live up to anything or be true to yourself. Stop trying. Damn. What a mess...

Scar excuses for when people rudely ask... kind of funny(:

• I had unprotected sex with a porcupine.
• I took my lizards for a walk and they held on for dear life.
• The neighborhood cat and I had a disagreement about the paw prints on my truck.
• The police didn't comply with the terrorists' demands fast enough, so they took it out on us hostages.
• This first one is kind of lame, but it's what I use most often: "Um, uh...I, uh....you see....I...uh...Well,...." At which they usually try to help me out by replying, "Did you fall?" And I say, "Yes, thanks."
• Well, let me just tell you this: You should NEVER EVER, under ANY circumstances, go out with a guy/girl that you met on the internet.
• I hurt myself.
• I keep falling off of cliffs trying to catch that damned roadrunner.
• "I was oyster hunting." They give me a blank stare. Then I say, with a wink, "You've obviously never been oyster hunting before."
• "It's a long story." They usually leave me alone, but this one guy said, "I've got time." Then I said, "I fell. [long pause] Ok, so it's obviously not THAT long."
• I was at this party with Marilyn Manson and everyone was giving out hugs.
• I lost a fight with a can of tuna fish.
• I slipped while making a salad.
• I fell asleep, and the clown got me.
• I'll just put it this way: when they tell you not to feed the bears, it's for a damned good reason.
• I thought those security tags on pants just sprayed ink, but apparently they spray shards of broken glass, too.
• Those aren't cuts, they're mehendi.
• Don't worry about it. Because of me, they now have a warning label!
• What are you talking about?? (as I quickly pull my sleeves up.)
• Damn Cat.
• Well, when I was younger, I had this dream that a dog was following me...he ran, and I ran, but the faster I ran, the more he sped up. I wanted to get to safety, to my house...I was almost there...but right when I got to the front porch, he bit me. Everywhere. Lots of times. Making marks that don't look like bites at all. And when I woke up... ::wide eyes:: and I had THESE.
• "What scars?" They usually reply "those ones," to which I reply, "I don't see anything."
• The voices told me to do it.
• I wrestle Tigers...
• I got them climbing a fence to escape this hell-hole. (said at school)
• (said to a guy who thinks I worship the devil) I did this as a sacramental offering to my dark lord, you prick. ::Smile::
• (about scars on my stomach) "Oh, those are from having my baby." "You don't have a baby!" "No, but I could."
• None of your business, you stupid (insert appropriate curse word here)
• I did it. (Hey, honesty works sometimes)

words

Ive wished for words to come to me in the moments when they are hiding. Ive wished for ways to speak of the world, of the love, of the hate, and of the lonely things deep deep down, yet they are drowned, because all of that naughty sensibility, and those clever words have escaped me and run away into the woods.

So, Dr. Thoreau... i have changed...

Broken.
Worthless.
Just a little to damn problematic.
Yet, I'm still here. Fighting to hell and back again.

The Truth about Me.

So, you might be wondering why i write all this sad depressing poetry on my other blogs... 

The truth is, I'm a normal girl living a fairly normal life with short sporadic intervals of hell and pain. But thats just it... we all have that. Pain.

Despite this, i am blessed. I have friends, family, a roof over my head and a number of other blessings. I have no reasons to be sad on the outside... but i do on the inside. 

Self Harm. Unfortunately, its a big part of my past and my future. Its drowned me in my past and it is currently tugging at the back of my mind in the present, and i swear it will be crushed in the future. My fortitude and strength to fight it hasn't been as thriving as it is now. I still struggle but luckily i have gone over a month without self-harming. Here is the question i'd like to ask most people... 

Why do we wear all of these masks. Who are you really? 

Are you hurt?

Are you happy?

Who are you really?

Take off your mask for a second and let me see a peak of whats really on the inside. 

So, as i take off my mask for a moment today, you'll see that its a struggle to fight the urge to grab that knife, push away meal after meal, to tell myself lie after lie after lie....

But I'm fighting because i'm telling my Monster of lies..

"**** you!"

And then i bash their brains out(:

Nightmare.

"Dont do drugs. Don't drink. Its stupid, and all it does is hinder you." Sound familiar? ... I thought so. Its probably been uttered to you only a million time by a parent or any sort authority. 

The sunshine was beating down this weekend, as the wind caressed the bare skin of all the hippies, and hipsters, and teenagers, and all of the different types of people at Summer Camp. Summer Camp is a big giant festival held every summer where everyone gets together, feels the love, smokes a little, drinks a little, and listens to some incredible music. Honestly, i don't know a person who dosnt find a little bit of appeal in at least one of those things, if not all. Well here i am, just your average girl, been there, done that. That cliche, "broken hearted," "just trying to get by" chick. Well, here i am with a free ticket to "Scamp" and ready to celebrate my best friends birthday with a youthful zeal that will burn up Three Sisters park before you can say "happy scamp." The whole park was in motion, dancing with colors, and feathers and not to mentionhippy skirts. The air was filled with music.

The atmosphere was intoxicating, in every sense of the world. There were people flying higher then any of the birds in the sky, and some were so drunk that they struggled to fit the cigarette between their teeth. As my friends and I drove on our staff golf cart from concert to concert i let the good vibes in and the bad one's out, and before i new it, the sun was setting. I was dancing and laughing, and not to mention sipping a drink here and there as the music took me in its arms spun me.

Dubstep concert.

The lights flashing and blinding.

A single hit.

I was light as a feather.

I held on to my friends hand as we made our way back into the crowd, stumbling to gain my balance. "Oh shit." i said, as i realized that my body felt like it was stepping in different places, and the feeling in my legs and my hands shoot with electricity and vibrations. It scared me. I didn't like it.

"Sarah! Sarah! Please, can we get out of here! I don't like this. I know i sound crazy. I need to get out..." And then i lost my ability to speak as i fell to the floor, so overcome with dread and fear and confusion that i could not even stand underneath the weight of it. The tangled feeling of my body kept tripping over itself, never being able to gain control. 

"Stop! Stop! You need to calm down. Stop!" I felt my friends grabbing me, and pulling me back, i wished they would just let me get out of there. Why were they holding me back? I needed air. The crowd closed in on me to the point of excessive claustrophobia. I tried to get out but then, all of a sudden, i realized i was completely paralyzed. Caught in a little blink of time that never ended. Caught in-between heaven and hell. Have you ever had that feeling just as you are about to reach the surface after a couple seconds too long underwater? That feeling of being trapped and just out of reach of escape swallowed me and refused to let me go. I was stuck there. Forever. The time didn't move, yet my pain and terror never ceased to wash over me. Wave after wave after wave. The world constantly spinning and the only thing that i could coherently think was "Dear God, please help me." My existence and my being blurred into a single string of thought. Terror. I screamed as I beat myself against the ground, trying to grasp reality. Everything around me kept spinning and i realized i was alone. I was so very alone. Finally, I was able to focus on my friends sister as she calmed me down, getting me to breathe, and trying to focus. "What did you take!? What did you take! Its gonna be okay." I tried to touch her face, and couldn't feel her, and that scared me. I panicked and was once again stuck in a state of terror. Who am i!? I don't understand!? What is this!? Where am i!? Where did i come from!? Who am i!? I can't remember my name... The scene went blurry and i remember big strong arms holding me. A mans face appeared and he asked me questions and shined a flashlight into my eyes. I was rushed into a medical tent, and then once again, got stuck in a panicked state of terror and repetition, constant spinning, and never-ending pain. I looked up and above me stood my best friends parents looking down on me. I couldn't remember who they were. On the inside i remember crying with frustration and agony because i couldn't remember my name, my family, my life. I knew my life was ending. I knew death was near if not already ahold of me. Dear God, Im sorry. I thought even in the chaos of my confused mind. 

A pin pricked my arm and the realization of the pain shocked me as the nurse inserted the IV. I gave up fighting at that point and let myself hang there in a silence. My mouth felt like sand paper and my body was shaking with tension. 

I looked around me and observed a girl on a bed beside me. Her brown hair was long. The action of turning, and looking at her, stuck in my head and repeated itself over and over and over. Madness. My arms hurt, and my neck, and my head throbbed with pain. In the past i used to say that i felt "trapped" in my depression and frustration with myself. The word "trapped" put on a whole other meaning as all of my mental pain was magnified and multiplied into something inexpressibly wretched. 

Hope. Hope, was finally found in the instant when i realized that i existed. My parents walked into the room, and never have i ever experienced a breath a fresh air more sweet. I don't remember what they said but i knew they were there to take me home. Slowly, but surly, i let myself fall back down into reality.

I awoke the next morning in my moms bed, looked into her face, and my little baby brothers, and realized once again, with surprise, that i was alive. Looking down, i saw my clothes, and it dawned on me that what i thought i had just dreamed, was real.

One night. One hit. One trip to hell and back. My life was changed.

As i awoke and progressively came down from the high, i came to understand that whatever drug that got into my system caused me to completely lose control. I attacked 2 people (both of which were close friends,) I also found out that it took 3 full grown men to detain me. I seriously damaged my relationships with every friend that witnessed my insanity, and the pain from that hurts more then anything else.

I never thought it'd happen to me. I always thought i was in control in those situations. Harmless right? Well, now i know that the naivety i once had has been shot out the window, unfortunately, due to experience. 

However, despite these terrors and pains, and despite the aftermath, i am so thankful to be alive. I am so thankful i have a second chance. Life is fragile. Reality is bliss.