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

Fear

I fear… the inevitable

The ups the downs the all arounds

I fear what will happen next

I fear the rope that ties itself

Tightly ’round my neck

But this is not inevitable

This will not happen

I have changed

I am changing with each day

And I no longer see death as an exit

I no longer see my life as a play

That I can just quit

I am scared of being better

But that’s why I am scared, today

Taylor

First part is a little extract from a poem I wrote, and second part is how that no longer is me, I no longer believe that I will be in pain forever, I no longer see life as a burden, or myself as a burden. But being better is scary, its scary to think that one day everything you’ve worked for could all fade away.

I know I can’t but I’ll try

I’m sorry for saying I was okay 

I’m sorry for wiping off my tears 

And brushing it all away 

I’m sorry for not warning you 

Of all that I was 

 and all I could do 

See, I’m a fucking monster 

Made out of hate and lies 

From the pile of regret 

And constant despise  

of myself 

But for me there was no cure 

Just things to hold it off 

But I never felt secure 

See the pills took away my hunger 

And deprived me of my sleep 

I guess I wasn’t suicidal 

Because tired and hungry was all I could be 

They took my passions away

They told me it would only make it worse 

But paintings of people in pain 

Made my pain feel less like a curse  

So I’ve come to the conclusion 

That I’ll never be okay 

Ill just have to get through the years 

Day by day 

And I know I cant do it 

But trust me ill try 

To stay alive

Taylor

This is an old poem, 2-3 years ago. I don’t agree with this mindset anymore but at that time I had a bad experience with antidepressants, and people judged my artwork, for being black and white and scary. I was filled with this self-hatred, which made me judge others who were enjoying their time. Its a very personal poem, that I could rant about each little meaning, but I’ll leave that for another day. 🙂

Dear 2020

Dear 2020, please by kind

I don’t want to get left behind

again.

I’m scared of falling all the way back down,

Ive climbed so far up,

but I’m loosing my grasp.

The rock between my fingers is crumbling fast.

And I’m scared

of ending up tangled in vines,

tubes running into my skin.

I’m scared of going,

where I’ve already been.

Taylor

I think its quite easy to understand what this means, as its just me wishing that 2020 will be a good year for me, and fearing that it wont