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

Love myself

I can’t love someone else

I’m not ready

Saw something saying otherwise

Saying that you learn to love yourself through others loving you

No

Others love me and I just don’t

Others see this beauty somewhere in me

That I just can’t find

And I am trying everyday

But I just can’t understand how the thought of me can make someone smile

Or how my presence could be wanted

I don’t understand it

I don’t understand how I have been the one to break peoples hearts

I do understand

Its because I can’t love them

But they can love me

Something that I can’t do either

Taylor

my purpose

And I will drown myself in water

Because they have taken away the pills

And the alcohol

I will pour everything I can down the sink

Because my blood no longer flows from my skin

They took away the blades

But they didn’t take away the pain within

I will deafen myself with music because I no longer want to scream

Because screaming is a cry for help and I don’t want it

I don’t want to get better because this is what I know

I don’t want to change because I’ve never been a better writer than right now

But even now I’m still shit

And I don’t know how else to deal with pain

Of the lack of it

I know I should feel upset but all I feel is inspiration

I know I should be angry, but all I see is words

And all I hear is words

That might not rhyme

But my god do they sound good to me

So I’m sorry for what I’ve caused or what feelings this ignites within you

But maybe that’s my purpose

And I’m really looking for things to keep me alive

So if that’s the one

Then I’ll take what I can get

Taylor

I wrote this mid break-down (if you couldn’t tell) and its although quite sad, its powerful, its me saying that I have this reason to live, however silly it may be, and times might be rough but I will hold on to it.

are you okay?

I’m sick of being asked how I am in social situations

or casual conversations.

I’m not going to lightly tell you how I was awake until dawn,

in fact I actually haven’t slept,

or how many pills I stole and have kept.

I’m not going to ‘chat’ about the new cuts that you can’t see,

or how I downed the vodka just so I can breathe.

I’m sick of smiling all day

and also of always saying that I’m okay.

I’m sick of life and I’m sick of crying

and trying.

Taylor