Today I heard that someone left this earth, That someone disappeared left no mark here.

79 days.
79 days of holding everything in.
Its too many days of depression, aggravation, sadness to happiness,
its just too many. Too much of refusing to let anything out,
to breathe in some fresh, clean air, to actually trust anyone with
the things going through my mind, even myself.
I can't believe i actually thought i could handle all of this,
its obvious i was completely wrong.
Its funny how much trust i put into others, how sure i am
that they won't fall through.
Its funny how wrong i am.
Spending longer than i would have thought possible
for myself getting ready, all just to be let down.
Happy fucking New Years. While you're out there with your friends,
making memories that i doubt you will remember,
guess what i was doing?
Guess what i spent the last day of possibly the worst year yet doing.
Even though i was so determined to make this night make up for the
suicides, from the eating disorders, to the friend losses.
What a loser eh? I spent the last night of the year curled up in bed,
crying.
Hating life, new years included, but mostly new years,
although hating myself was included, so i zoomed in on that.
Telling myself things i new would hurt, words i new would burn
holes in my mind, and put cuts my wrists,
letting the ruby red blood flow freely.
Staining the outfit i so proudly put together,
ruining the sheets to the carpets.
No wonder you're here alone, no one ever wanted to fucking waste their time with you.
Useless. Pathetic. Unwanted.
So happy fucking New Years. Some friends i have, all out having fun,
getting wasted, leaving myself completely forgotten about.
Well... dont you have any other friends you could hang out with?
Ha. I allmost smirked, what friends? The ones that either completely
forgot about me, or the ones that didn't forget, just didn't care?
Today I heard that someone just got up and left himself
Lying on the ground.

I'm a little bit insecure from all of this mistreatment.

Packing my bags with as much as possible,
i've always loved the feeling,
throwing things in a school backpack. Folding everything 10 times
smaller than it needs to be, just to enable room for more.
Feels like running away. Feels like a new beginning.
Funny how shes thinking the exact same thoughts as the ones
running through my mind. Almost.
This feels like we're running away
I know...i love it
Why? I hate this feeling.
Its starting over, a new beginning.
Few memories of my childhood still linger in my head. One of them
sticks out most, like a neon sign in the middle of the night.
Another fight with my mother, no idea what about though,
bawling in my room, holding my Hunchback of Notre Dam barbies
dearly. Attempting to write a note saying i had run away,
and wouldn't be coming back.
I was four.
After too much frustration of not being able to write a
note that would be actually readable to anyone besides myself,
i settled to crying at my window like
Princess Aurora from Sleeping Beauty.
The neighbors, a group of teens who at the time were my best
friends, after moving into Elise's house, who was my last, and
possibly still, my best friend.
They hollered up trying to figure out what was wrong,
i think i called back louder than needed hoping my mother would
hear me complaining. As far as i remember she didn't.

Dear Prudence, open up your eyes, Dear Prudence, see the sunny skyes.

Merry fucking Christmas. Letting her down, again, broken promises, again. Battling a food disorder still, after promising one too many times that i'll stop. I want to say i did some research for hours last night, but i can't, 15 minutes top, i sure seem to give a shit about myself. I remember reading something about to keep, or in my case get some self esteem in the first place, people need to do things that they like, or are good at. I like dancing, so i spent about an hour dancing to upbeat music in my bra, feeling extremely sexy, followed by some drawing, which i like to think i'm good at. I like to think i'm helping myself, that this is a good step, but its happened so many times before, and yet here i am. Wallowing in this desperation. Begging for this to end, for it to be like flipping a switch, on and off. I'm trying to flip the switch, but i cant reach it. pathetic metaphor I know, but at the moment its all i've got, and i plan to hold on to it for as long as possible.

And i just can't take these tears, i hate this part right here.

I hate not being able to do shit to make it better,
i hate being this pathetic little girl who will
moan when saying her name,
but still cant do shit to help.
Just sitting on the sidelines,
searching through my mind
for a way to help.
All i know is little bits and pieces of what
happened last year round this time,
and honestly, there's nothing i can think of to help.
Looking at a faded photograph,
seeing her smile, just wishing there was i way i could
put that smile there again.
Find a way to make it stay,but i know i couldn't.
Really now, i think i would honestly
do anything, give up anything just to know
she was safe, and happy.
Just to know that none of these
thoughts would be on her mind.
Sadly there's nothing i can do now is there?
No. Of course not.
Just that pathetic little girl,
watching from the side lines.

And did you really look my way? 'Cause noone could have seen this coming.

I'm disgusted with you, who you are, what you've become.
Two fucking little chicken legs, and you feel sick to your stomach.
You eat less than your barely 5 years old brother.
Fucking 5 years old.
You clench your stomach not just in disgust, but in pain.
Your body cant even handle the fucking smallest things.
Two little cookies fill you up, even when its all
you've eaten at 2'clock in the afternoon.
A handful of french fries, and your done for the night,
Again, your sick to your stomach. Pathetic.
In a day you barely eat one meal's worth.
7am-11pm half the time,and only a handful or two of food.
Even then you still can hardly keep it down,
she was right, eventually your body wont be able to handle anything.
Just thinking about it makes me sick, that's how bad this is.
That's how pathetic you are,
that's how much of a horrible person you are.
Why cant you just fucking stop? If it hurts me this much,
just imagine what it does to them...
You say you cant stop, your trying,
but you don't know if you can stop, well why the hell not?
This is all self inflicted, your doing this to yourself,
so just fucking quit. You're putting everyone around you in pain.
Pulling everyone you love down with you.
Down this dark hole of pain, worries, and sadness.
You've obviously forgotten about her, what this does to her.
You claim to love her, and yet your putting her through all this pain.
You've dug yourself one hell of a hole,
and i almost wish you would die in it.
Because honestly, for what your putting everyone through,
you deserve it. No, you don't deserve that, you should have
to stay here in pain for what your doing to them.
Dieing would let you off the hook, but just put everyone
else around you in more pain.

Someone come, Someone come and save my life, Maybe I'll sleep when I am dead.

I just wanna break you down so badly, in the worste way.

I want to know where you were one year ago,
I want to be where you were one year ago.
Who were you a year from now?
I dont even know who i was one year from now.
I wish i was there one year ago.
Maybe i would remember me one year ago.
Remember my dreams, my friends, my thoughts.
Because honestly, i dont have a clue,
Its all been lost, everything i held so dear.
Looking through these old shoe boxes as rain falls down,
splashing away the memories i no longer have.

This is my grownup christmas list.

Do you remember me
I sat upon your knee
I wrote to you
With childhood fantasies

Well, I'm all grown up now
And still need
help somehow
I'm not a child
But my heart still can dream

So here's my lifelong wish
My grown up christmas list
Not for myself
But for a world in need

No more lives torn apart
That wars would never start
And wars would never start
And time would heal all hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always win
And love would never end
This is my grown up christmas list

As children we believed
The grandest sight to see
Was something lovely
Wrapped beneath our tree

Well heaven only knows
That packages and bows
Can never heal
A hurting human soul

No more lives torn apart
That wars would never start
And time would heal all hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always win
And love would never end
This is my grown up christmas list

What is this illusion called the innocence of youth
Maybe only in our blind belief can we ever find the truth
(there'd be)

No more lives torn apart
That wars would never start
And time would heal all hearts
And everyone would have a friend
And right would always win
And love would never end, oh
This is my grown up christmas list

This is my grown up christmas list

Do you remember me,
Back in time to the days of childhood
I dont even know how you could
The days of just you and me
Father and daughter, in front of the fire place
Dreaming of days in space
The stars and the moon,
The sun and the clouds.
Crying so loud and yet no one would hear
Yet noone would see the rain turned into tear
I still remember this
The days of love and bliss
Remember dreaming of you coming home
When no little girl would be alone
Waking up to a big bear hug
Cuddling up so nice and snug
A tale as old as time,
Father and daughter, happily ever after.
Happily every after.
What a story, what a tale
Too much of a lie for a small girl so frail.

Cus i will die for you, on sky way avenue.

Sitting here in this cold dark room, surrounded by smiles,
but none meet their eyes.
Nothing but lies, false accusations of the truth.
Watching my life, dreams, and friends crumble down all around me.
Well no, not my friends, i'm surrounded by their happiness,
by their dreams coming out from the dark,
coming out of hiding.
Reading of things i don't even care for, not that i have a choice.
Welcome to the teenage years, forced to do things you don't want,
to be something you never dreamed of,
to be someone you never dreamed of.
So i keep trying, keep begging,
down on my hands and knees,
hoping, begging, and crying for it to happen,
or to end. Whichever works out better.
Just so sick of everyone, the shit that somehow crosses their minds,
and comes out their mouths.
Hating the teenage population as a whole,
And yet dreading the day when i'm no longer apart of it.
Rumors, lables, and gossip, its all just a load of shit.
You're an emotional little girl they'd say, it doesn't mean a thing,
get your act together and get over it.

Why do I put myself in these situations, I keep pushing myself even though i can't take it all.

rofl.

This nights a perfect shade of dark blue, dark blue. Have you ever been alone in a crowded room?

I'm sick of depression.

I'm sick of lying.

I'm sick of wanting.

I'm sick of crying.

I'm sick of my body.

I'm sick of the World.

I'm sick of the damage being done everywhere.

I'm sick of society.

I'm sick of being a teenager.

I'm sick of every god damned eating disorder.

I'm sick of being used.

I'm sick of being told i'm useless.

I'm sick of school.

I'm sick of family.

I'm sick of trying too hard to be cool.

I'm sick of this numbness.

I'm sick of the rumors.

I'm sick of those damn populars

I'm sick of being worthless.

I'm sick of me.
I'm sick of you.

I'm sick of life.

I want to cry, but she would die if she knew.

Another two weeks go by, with an eternity on the hips.
What?No you refuse to think like this, your not one of them.
Refuse to be sucked into the horror filled light,
that eerie glow that causes everything to look oh so different.
Girl, your not one of them, stop pretending.stop lying to yourself.
But still another two weeks go by, with an eternity on the hips.
Another wasted dream wasted in the night, unfulfilled,useless.
Its a dark night out there, but the stars light it up, creating
this mass allusion of safety.
But dreams are useless so they say.
Just like you. Pathetic little idiot girl, your not even of age.
What makes you think anyone could love you, what makes you think
that you could make it in the world?
What was that? You have a dream, do you?
Well who the hell doesn't, its a big world out there,
if you want to do, or be anything useful in this life,
you better work hard. You want to be known,
get your name out there, well your not fucking Paris Hilton.
Have you seen your body? This wont come easy.
You have to work harder than you have for anything else,
you have to starve yourself to the point of perfection.
You need serious help girlie, so you've heard, but by the end of this week
nothing will be the same. Not knowing if you want to or not,
but apparently you need to. That's all you know, that they want this,
personally you couldn't care less about the effect on you,
but as long as they get this feeling of safety, and closure, you will be happy.
Its a shame that your the one going in though, your the one
who's hand they'll be holding. But its their hand's your squeezing.
"I may seem crazy
Or painfully shy
And these scars wouldn't be so hidden
If you would just look me in the eye
I feel alone here and cold here
Though I don't want to die
But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills inside."

And now i've had enough of all the hating. Do we even care, is someone there?

I remember when we were 8 years old, sitting on your bed, talking about shit we barely remember. For some reason we were talking about our favourite colours, yours were green and blue, mine were purple...and pink? You said something about pink being my favourite colour, and how that made me girlier. Thinking about it now, i think thats the funniest thing, considering my girly level is pretty low. My favourite colours are still purple, but red instead of pink. Does that have anything to do with it? These little things create who we are, little things like favourite colours, or the pets we have growing up. Remember my cat? Your family had to watch him for a week, and Cameron would be holding him wrong. Hold my baby wrong. What a spaz eh cuz? Aha, you always hated it when i called you that. Too childish you'd say. We were so close, you meant the world to me, what happened? Family, moving, fighting, all that dumb jazz. Shitty eh?

its the first kiss, it flawless, its really something.

your and idiot girl, do you know that?
i don't regret it, not in the least, i meant those words,
i swear on my life i do. i've been thinking about it night
and day for a while now, wanting to say them so badly. i
was afraid, i don't know why, or even of what, but i was.
but now i'm furious with myself, tossing and turning through out
the night about what to do know. i don't regret it, not in the least.
but saying it in the state that i was in
was just about the dumbest thing in the world.
i wanted those words to be important, to mean something, not just
slurred mumbles between my lips. i'm an idiot, such an idiot,
but its good that i know it, be able to make up for my mistakes.
i love you babe.
Are you aware of what you said to me earlier?
mhmm....but i'm not sure if i will in the morning, but i meant it.

In your brown eyes, walked away.

You hate your body,
but you love to dance.
So baby lets get drunk,
n'swing those hips to the flow.
And lets pretend that nobody knows.

What you feel is what you are, and what you are is beautiful.

i hate Christmas music.
why?
i just... i don't know
alright scrooge
sorry.
the feeling of waking up to a false reality, a false story line, a false family.i hate it all. loathing every little girl who jumps into daddy's arms Christmas morning, or any morning for that matter, and yet craving the same reality all the same. still, i'll plaster this smile wrapping paper on my face every morning, not wanting to ruin it for myself, but mainly for anyone else. i vaguely remember the past few birthdays, and Christmases, watching the phone, and waiting for him to call. balling my eyes out the rest of the night when i finally realise i wont be hearing from him for at least another year. spending birthdays sitting in front of this very screen, happy 14th girly, daddy forgot the big day, again. merry Christmas, cramming a month's worth of calories, fat and sugar down my throat, but knowing there's no way i can keep it all down this year. apparently its genetic, having this pathetic low self esteem, but honestly i can't wonder why. i stand there trying not to show how much it hurts when even she would bug me about my weight, and my size, even though i feel like throwing up just thinking about it. knowing the next time i look at this horrible body of mine, i'll cry just by looking at myself. cry myself to sleep with more useless tears, little raindrops af pain smearing down my face.

and i'll do anything you ever dreamed to be complete.

"i hate this, this feeling. feeling so vulnerable towards one person, feeling like they have control over everything you say, everything you do. when only they're words matter, not anybody elses, or anything anybody else does. everything they do just seems more important. i hate it, so much. yet i love the other side of the feeling too, the side that gives you butterflies. the side that makes you feel wanted, important. the side that brings you those moments, that you never want to forget, never want to let go of. the perfect moments, when time stands still. "
-Char

Now come on,baby, shake it, Like you mean it, Now take it, Like i need it.

Laying there on her lap, as her body
warmth slowly starts to affect me,
coming in and out of consciousness. Barely
picking out distinct words
the others are murmuring back and forth.
Opening my eyes to see hers staring down
straight into mine, apparently i was wrong before.
This is true happiness. Fingers entwined,
curled up in a little ball, on the break of passing out,
but refusing to miss a single moment of any of this.
Sooner than it should, 2am rolls around
causing grumbles and dumb comments
from myself which i can't even remember the following morning.
As i'm writing this down i'm thinking that there should
be some sort of meaningfulness to this entry, but there's none.
Nothing to sound smart, or classy, just rambling words like
the little girl i am. But i'm okay with that, i don't need
some big quote to live by throughout my life.
I just need this happiness which, i've got. So i know i'm okay.

You Dance Like a Queen, Despite of All The Things You Never Wanted.

Jealousy hits hard as she runs after Blondie.
Hard like the concrete smashing
at that meth addicts head. I know its pathetic, but i'm at
the point where i don't even care.
Well, that's a lie, i do care, allot. Its ridiculous how much
of an impact T. has on me. On these horrible
emotions burning inside me. I already know how
much she cares, if shes willing to lay with me, cradle my
tears, and hold me strong enough to stop the shaking, she must care,
she must. She wants him to rot in hell for what he did to me,
but she doesn't understand it. He already is, its a living hell walking
through each day on Earth. He's allready living his hell, as are most of us.
I need to read more, it helps my writing, gives me words i never
knew i had. I crave happiness, its healthy for my art,
tears smudge my pictures. But i refuse to let my potential be
flushed down the toilet. No pun intended 'eh babe?
I want to scream out loud. Scream at myself for all the horrible
thoughts going through my mind, that built up this
big ugly wall of protection. Waitta go girl, now you're
stuck and theres no getting out. These concrete walls are 10ft.
tall and i'm stuck inside of this little box. Theres nothing left to
do but cowar in a dark corner, hide from the world,
hide from my mistakes. Looking through a
shoebox of memories, peices of time that somehow slipped my
mind in the past year or so slowly start to come back to me.
I miss those days of bliss, and happiness, having a smile
painted on my face.
The good 'ole days truely never end, just fade slightly bit by bit.
"An English 11 classroom. Girls, have you ever been out there, sucking off
and old man's prick, seeing the ugliness behind the concealing blackness,
legs tottering on heels? It frightens you too much, doesn't it, the men
stopping and the woman bending over, needing money to pay for the fleeting
happiness that all of us snatch at: that one thread in the neon darkness.
When the cars stopped you always hoped it would be different, that somebody
would step out and hold you and stop the shaking."