Don’t write

I tell myself not to write
Because I five too deep
But then, I fall
Into a world to easy to keep

Of tinder dates that fall in love or to never been seen again
Of short 6 second videos that teach me nothing or bring up pain

I tell myself not the start writing because I’ll be depressed again.

But how bad can life be
Sat here listening to quiet tv
And chatter
In one room and quiet resource
Evelyn Stein in this room
Quiet

With the sound of rain falling into the deck
And the song has now changed

to the Hymn of the sea by James Korner

And now I feel like although I don’t believe in god,
maybe a Spotify one exists.

He knows who I am better than you do
She knows what I need more that you do
They know more about me than you could ever do.

Because I am nothing but my habits,
I am nothing but my thoughts and my soul,
I am nothing but todays playlist,
I am nothing but todays goal.

dried up paint

Scraping dried up paint from under my fingernails
With a 2H
Writing shit with too many details
Its getting late

Lying down by my book
Kept company by my pencils
And my phone
But its only decoration right now

I love it when an addiction is just decor
I could be using it but I wouldn’t know what for
To pick you up
To start to scroll
But I don’t
To want to drink
A glass of wine
But I wont

To smoke a cigarette, to think about you...
But I do


I love it when I write
Because nothing really means anything
Apart from one word at a time
And everyone thinks it does
That theres a theme or a deeper meaning
That I thought about before I finished it
I didn’t
There isn’t
Its just me talking in my head
If my brain could talk
Its just the shit it woulda said
I find meaning in my writing
But I don’t write with meaning
I write with a pencil
And dried up paint

trigger

I sometimes loose control of my body

My hands smack into my head repeatedly

My eyes water with no end

My heart rushes and bangs through my chest

This can be caused when I have strong feelings that my brain can’t process.

I wanted to sleep for hours and I couldn’t

I wanted to feel cared for and I didn’t

I wanted to be respected and I wasn’t

So my body shut down, everything went to the beat of my heart

My hands came up, and my knuckles got bruised, and my scalp got cut, and my head wanted to lose.

I woke up the next day and saw the torn up sheet from all my shaking

I woke up and felt my hands aching

I woke up and my heart hadn’t yet stopped

The worst part is, is that normally I trigger this, with dark thoughts or loss of hope

But this time it was people, who I loved or thought I did

And so my world has crashed, and behind the pretty paintings I now see all the ash

So this is the time for me, and new beginnings, and people who I admire and look up to, not people who held knifes behind each others back.

Im not being used or abused or taken for granted

I’ll do some yoga and reflect, and not give any more chances.

I don’t even know what to think

Out of sight out of mind

Close the door out of line

Why did you say that

What the fuck that’s not nice

That’s not the way u treat guys

That’s a good joke

You’re joking right

Hahahaha wait is it a joke

Or was it what I just said

Am I wrong or is this in my head

I can’t take in all the things

What have I just read?

My thoughts as I go to bed

Just writting about how I feel

When a situation feels unreal

Is it what I felt or what I feel

Do I know this is my own skin

Or does it just feel like a different body I’m living in

Is it the drugs, the weed, the alcohol

That’s making me feel like I’m out of it all

Out of my mind

Im going insane

Feeling like a fucking video game

Feeling like I’ve got to control

Every little inch

Whack a mole

Whack me out

of this skitz life

Im thinking about

Unseen

Tripping over reality

Or under it

And seeing the unseen

What we cannot observe through the naked eye

Not even with enhanced vision

Unlocking corners of our mind

Observing a collision

Between reality and something else

But what is the something else that remains unseen

And will there come a day where it can be

Taylor

My story

Once upon a time there was a girl

Who suddenly felt sad

And glad

That she just took those 12 paracetamol, 3 sleeping pills and 2 tranquillisers

At the age of 12

She loved the blood that covered her bruised knuckles

And the way her body was now filled with scars and open slits

She remembered the time

At the age of 15

When she woke up in hospital, tangled in tubes

Because she took enough to knock her out this time

Whose scars people still mistake for stretch marks

There was a girl who worked so hard to be able to write her story

From the outside

I am girl who was that girl

But that girl is no longer me

Because I know its my story but I no longer identify with her even though we share our memories

I love my scars because they show me how far I have come, not because of the empty space between them

I love my mind because they let me know theres still miles to run, not all the ways and days until I end it

I always told myself I would kill myself successfully before I’m 18… I’m 18 now

Im starting a new story, but this one takes place in another land

With a different girl

I knew I wouldn’t make it past 18, and I am so glad that that me didn’t.

Taylor

Healing

My nails are growing again

Im not happy yet

But Ive lost the habit of tearing myself apart because of it

My body is healing

It wont be the same

But Ive started to love the history it has and holds

Im growing, slowly, up towards the sun

Lets hope a drought is not going to come

Because for now

Look at me

Taylor