Everyday needle in, needle out, repeat.

Everyday scrambling for money to sustain my urges.

Everyday battling myself, only for defeat.

Everyday people walk past me as my vain surges.

They don't see me, they see a freak, a "crackhead", a begger.

They see me and hide their kids.

They don't stop to help or ask what's wrong.

And if they do stop it's to tell me to move.

So not today will anyone tell me to move,

Not today will anyone call me a freak,

Not today will I satisfy my cravings,

Not today will anyone run from me.

Not today,

Or ever again.

Being alone and isolated is scary. (I have so much anger inside of me I didn't know existed. I'm mad at my dad for giving me a shitty easter 10 years ago, and I'm mad at everyone for treating my grandma like she was sick when she was sick -because that's the last thing you want when you're sick, Right?- Maybe that's why she was my best friend? Because I never treated her any different, I never acted like she had cancer and I never gave her those sad eyes like everyone else did. I'm mad at my mom. Why wouldn't she bring me to see my grandma on her death bed? I never got to say bye. I guess I was young, I don't think I would've understood and watching everyone cry would've shread my soul. That would've been the only time she would've seen my sad eyes. My sad eyes have only been used once. Watching my mom get carried in on a streatcher with blood- looking like dye on her chest. That was the saddest moment of my life... Or was it coming back to the same hospital because I overdosed -17 Tylenol (cold and flu), 5 Ibueprfen (200mg), 1 bottle of liquid tylenol, at least 10 melatonine... Im gagging just thinking about it. Swallowing pills is never the same now. Now I can feel what I did the day I inhaled pills -I didn't want to be alive. But what has changed? not much... Nothing actually. My boyfriend didn't even come visit me when I was in the hopital... "I sure know how to pick em!" Funny thing is we stayed together for 5 more months after that, until life started to pile up and he could no longer support me and went into the deep end too. He was good to me and I'm sad I never noticed the love pouring out of him. I think about him everyday still. Sometimes I wish I could hug him and tell him I love him and just hold him and everything will be okay... He did me wrong too much. He did things I couldn't forget. So lets just drop this thought. Wow it's already 2:30 and I only just woke up an hour ago! That's sad...) But being alone with your thoughts is far worse.

Only by a hair, but I am alive. It might stay that way for awhile, yet I am slowly dying again. Slowly dying for your warmth against me and your hands against my hips. Slowly dying to put more scratch marks on your back and feel every muscle I already know like the marks in my palm. I need you to put me back under your spell, back under your sheets and back under your body. I need to have the sweep of your hands through my hair, the tingly feeling you could always give me that no one else could. What went so wrong for you to be gone? I miss you, but thats just a feeling. I’ll learn to live with, because I will never feel your weight on mine again and I will never feel your hands stroke through my hair. Which means we spent months learning each others anatomy, just to sever each others hearts into pieces onto a rug that wont be taken out for years. And once that rug gets pulled back out and the splinters mend back together; we will be ready to break each others hearts all over again.

#poetry #prose #hearts #mending #broken #original #toanend

I’m not living, nor am i dead;

I call it ”Surviving”.

I don’t like surviving,

It makes it hard to be alive.

“You’re not sick” my mother says, “You don’t need those pills” she repeats to the psychiatrist, less than five hours after trying to kill myself.

I don’t know where to go from here.

Do I just carry on with life under these conditions?

Is that possible?

“She needs all the love she can get right now” What about before? When i told you I needed help? and when I told you something bad was going to happen.

Why didn’t you listen?

Why doesnt anyone listen?

Still I’m sitting in the hospital “not sick” with a nurse watching my every move through the night and day, stuck in a 10x10 square foot room with bars covering the windows blocking all means of fresh air.

How I miss being outside.

I want to run around in the streets at 12am with my friends again.

Just one last time before I get locked away.

“She just needs time to rest”

But i’m not sick, so why would it matter?

#prose #mentalhealthmatters #mentalhealth #mystory

I can tell where you are from the moon, and I can feel your frizzy hair rubbing against my chest from miles away. I know the spells your lips can cast on a girl, yet it didn't work on me. I don't Love you like everyone else.

I only know every curve and freckle on your body, I could tell you the number of eyelashes you have; It's 500 and 28 to be exact, plus the one that's always out of line.

But I don't Love you... at all

It's not like you're the only piece of art hanging on my walls, all though you do appear most.

I don't love you like everyone else; Maybe more? no. never.

You're just my strange addiction I keep running back to.

#poetry #addictedtoyou #prose #story

I dont love you,

but nobody else will love me the way you do...

If only I listened when you said it youself.

#poetry #prose #hurting

You are a stranger to me.

I never hear your thick accent,

Or see you around the halls.

Mais quand nous changons la langue,

Je vous connais.

Je connais la ceinture fléchée

Qui est accrogée au mur,

Et je connais le drapeau avec l’étoile

Qui brille les couleurs blue, blanc et rouge.

Je connais les petits projecteurs de lumières placés a chaque coin,

Et la petite tour d’Eiffel qui est toujours partie.

But we always switch worlds,

And become strangers again.

#codeswitching #frenchpoetry #francophones #poetry