If I cut my arms
Would you still hold me?
If I did you harm
Would you be cold to me?
If I screamed your name
Would you heed my call?
If I was to blame
Would you trust me at all?
If I began to cry
Would you wipe away my tears?
If I were to die
Would you visit my grave every year?
If I were insane
Would you send me away?
If I were blind
Would you show me the way?
If I were sick
Would you still kiss me?
If I didn't have money
Would you still miss me?
If I were in pain
What would you do?
If I loved you
...Would you love me too?
I've always wanted to make you proud
Never get in the way, Never too loud
Straighten my clothes
So no one knows
Smile until my face hurts
So nothing shows
People ask me why I bother trying
If I'm not myself, to you I'm lying
It's not fair to you
I don't know what to do
I want to be perfect
If only for you.
But I know you understand why
You know my secrets... Why I never cry
Why I'm so bleak
About it I don't speak
You wont either, Because you see
I am you and you are me.
You are so ugly
With your rouge-stained cheeks
Your black Shadowed eyes
Have you eaten this week?
Do not stare back at me
With the tears running down
Like black trails of sadness
Past that sulky frown
Scrub clean those filthy hands
The dirt from under your nails
Quiet your pathetic sobs
And your pitiful wails
Do not touch the mirror
And mimic all that I do
For you cannot be me
And I do not wish to be you
Not Slender Enough.
Not Pretty Enough.
Not Secure Enough.
Not Witty Enough.
Not Feminine Enough.
Not Happy Enough.
Not Smart Enough
Not Sappy Enough
Not Tame Enough.
Not Compliant Enough
Not Pure enough.
Not Reliant Enough.
....Not Good Enough.
And elder sign.
Such a harmless object, unless your insane that is.
Does that make me insane, as I work with my razor blade.
Just so recently found in my room, two of them.
And now, this harmless elder sign, you Lovecraft people should know it.
It is now making its home on my left ankle.
I write, excuse me, type this now.
Listening to Guns 'N Roses.
And I wonder, am I sinking again?
I try to deny it. It's just harmless fun, right?
I tell this to myself, while the large band-aid begs to differ.
My mom, I told her that I cut it, yeah I did.
But to her, not with a razor blade.
The metal peice under the support beam in my room. Rusty with floodings and damp.
You see, my room is in the basement.
If that was confusing you.
"Did you clean it? You know that rusty cuts are the worst."
"Yeah, I cleaned it."
I told her so she wouldn't find it by herself after time.
Get rid of any suspision right away.
This is getting spotty. Man, I've just drained that out.
And yet I still type.
Why?
Because I wonder if I should tell of the blades to my mom.
I'm scared and confused, so they remain.
And yet, if she were to find the box they came in, why, she would find only one.
Probably ask to see what I've done with it.
I might get sent to Prarie. But not just out patient this time.
The other, hiding with the second disc of my Re-Animator movie. See, more Lovecraft. Hardy har har.
Jeez, this is becomeing a book. Though I think I've gotton rid of all the details.
And so, this elder sign scabs up under my band-aid, after working on it.
But I washed it!
Doesn't that mean it is more than just mindless self infliction???
Or am I just kidding my self.
I have no idea.
Man I need to stop this...
Take the blade from these bloodied up hands
I don't want to live anymore...
These eyes shed tears for a heart I am to break
For this heart has already been destroyed before
Do you think it could break anymore?
I deserve these wounds, these broken promises
For my heart to be torn until it exists no more
And with this blackened thorn I fall
Whispering my final words to you
Through lips that will never be kissed again...
I love you... I say, but I am undeserving
Please, I beg of you to kill my heart
I dont want to go through this pain anymore
I lost him, and my heart does not care
Because I have your embrace to cover that up with
So slay my love and give me up
I cant love you this way, nobody this way
For I need to be punished...
I am undeserving...
there is something deep inside of me,
no longer sleeping, yes it grows.
i'm waiting oh so paciently,
for what it is, who knows?
i question all authority,
i deny the things i preach.
with everything confusing me,
there is nothing for me to teach.
i hide away my sanity,
i pray that this will end.
run away from all the yelling,
so long as i can't be condemned.
my promises are breaking now,
so left and incomplete.
my world is shaking up right now,
there is nothing left for me.
i sigh and shift so awkwardly,
but there is no surprise.
i'll fight away this darkness,
i'll commit mental suicide.
the pieces fall apart so nice,
and together they become old.
i place them close to my heart,
and it is them i grab ahold.
inside of me there is something,
what it is i don't know.
but it looms in front of me,
and now it wants to grow.
I bring my own misery,
I drink from my own cup.
And it pours over with my own langour.
I wish I may,
I wish I might,
Have this wish,
I wish every hour.
I hope and pray,
by my undying breath,
until the day my breath dies.
And I know on that day, my wish,
My hopes and prayrs,
Will be unanswered by heavens good Will.
Because I could not take it upon myself.
And no force in heaven or Earth,
Could make my dreams come true.
I worry too much about what people think.
Do I say and do the right thing?
Especially around those who matter the most.
I do not want to drive them away.
Yet, I feel that it’s happening all of the time,
Because it has happened before.
People can give off the wrong impression.
If one can’t detect this façade,
One can easily be fooled to think everything’s fine.
This has happened to me once or twice.
In months of voice and writing she said
That “I think this way and that.
I definitely would like doing that sort of thing
If only I were given the chance. . . .”
Impulsively, I took some action one night,
Thinking that she thought the same
And did some things uncomfortably,
But not uncomfortable for me.
I drove this person away with my actions.
I’ve never been the same.
Everytime that I meet someone new
Or become more involved with a friend,
I worry about what I feel like saying.
Sometimes, what I feel like doing.
I know that my one lone experience
In driving a person away
Will taint my future dealings with loved ones
And people I wish to know.
I know this is how I will always feel
Until the day will come
When someone who knows how much I worry
Tells me that things will be fine.