Tag Archives: loneliness

One day, another day

one day he wants me, another day he wants me not.

one day he loves me, another day he loves me not.

one day he needs me, another day he needs me not.

 

one day I’m his everything, another day I’m his nothing.

one day I’m his love, another day I’m his hate.

one day I’m his forever, another day I’m his never.

 

one day he’s a sunny day, another day he’s a stormy night.

one day he’s a lovable man, another day he’s isolated.

one day he’s all mine, another day he’s hers.

 

one day I was warm, another day I was cold.

one day I was happy, another day I have him in my life.

one day I was in love, another day I have a broken heart.

I Hate Christmas

Christmas is not a holiday for the lonely

Happiness is all around me but not inside me

Remembered how I’m not loved or cherished anymore

Isolated with the knowledge of how alone I really am

Sadness over comes all emotions

The hollowness of my empty heart echos louder than usual

My mind is running wild with the lonely thoughts deep inside my soul

Always reminded how I don’t have anyone to be with

Surrounded by happy couples and happy families while I have nobody

Suicide

March 27th, 2014. Teenage suicide attempt.

She swallowed 82 Ibuprofen with water.

Along with phenazopyridine, an old subscription.

With the pain she was experiencing

It seemed to call for medication.

Medication will hopefully numb the pain.

It is her final, last resort.

 

Slowly feeling her stomach start disintegrating.

As her stomach lining started thinning

She was waiting for the end.

 

Getting dizzy unable to walk properly.

Walking around almost as if drunk.

Her mind unable to focus straight.

 

She was unable to wait anymore.

She finally told him about everything.

He brought her to get help.

They called an ambulance for her.

They asked questions she couldn’t answer.

She was close to falling asleep.

Fighting the darkness and the unconsciousness.

Laying on a gurney leaving school.

On her way to the hospital.

The paramedic looking for her veins.

Unable to find them do to

Ibuprofen thins blood making it difficult.

Paramedic kept missing the thin veins.

Finally was able to find one.

 

Laying on the gurney inside waiting.

Falling in and out of unconsciousness.

Waiting for the doctor and nurse.

 

Her lips becoming blue and purple.

But her body overheating within seconds.

Sweating through clothing and gurney sheets.

 

Her hearing slowly started to disappear.

She was unable to hear anyone

She couldn’t even hear herself speak.

The Stars

She has nobody during the day.

She lays in bed each night.

After long days she’s weak, tired.

All she has to do is,

Look outside her cold bedroom window.

 

And look up at the stars.

The stars she can count on.

They’ll always be in the sky.

Even if they’re hiding behind clouds.

She trusts them enough to know.

Know they are listening to her.

 

Listening to her cries, whispers, wishes.

They shine upon her, giving strength.

Strength to shine bright another day.

They twinkle down, giving her hope.

Hope she’ll find someone, one day.

 

The stars are her strength, hope.

Without her stars how could she?

How could she be alone again.

Without her stars how will she?

How will she build strength again.

Strength to carry loneliness alongside herself.

 

The loneliness that nobody else wants.

They leave her alone, baring it.

Burning her strength carrying loneliness along.

Walking swiftly looking down at phones.

Pretending to look busy, avoiding her.

Leaving her more alone than ever.

 

Making the loneliness seep out hope.

Her hope escaping like caged butterflies.

Flying away, high in the daylight.

Leaving her weak and unhopeful again.

 

But, with the stars shining, twinkling.

She can gain the strength again.

Collect her hope in her hands.

So once again she’ll endure days.

Because during the day, there’s nobody.

Skinny

How many pounds? How many inches?

How many calories? How many fats?

How many candies? How many veggies?

How many?.. How many?.. How many..?

 

The questions go through her head.

In the morning, afternoon, and night.

She’s always thinking about not eating.

If she eats, that’s another calorie.

 

That’s another gram of body fat.

Another outfit she can’t fit into.

Another outfit she has destroyed again.

That’s another number on the scale.

 

Her notebook is filled with thinspirations.

Skinny girls, skinny foods, skinny tips.

Notes about getting small and skinny.

 

Learning how to eat or not.

What to eat to burn calories.

What to do instead of eating.

What to do to burn calories.

 

Things to do instead of eating.

Drawing, writing, painting, reading, or coloring.

Napping, bathing, doing hair, painting nails.

Walking, running, doing yoga, or fitness.

Not eating is easier than tracking.

Tracking is hard, tiring, and consuming.

Not eating is easier than fitness.

Tracking is hard, boring, and draining.

 

If she gets through a day,

One, single, empty day without eating,

It’s considered a good successful day.

 

To be skinny she has to

Skip a meal, avoid all foods.

To be skinny she has to

Do something other than eating foods.

 

To be skinny she has to

Drink zero calorie, zero sugar tea.

To be skinny she has to

Pretend to not be starving inside.

 

To be skinny means she’s pretty.

To be skinny means she’s confident.

To be skinny means she’s strong.

To be skinny means she’s brave.

 

How many pounds until she’s perfect?

How many calories does to burn?

How many more candies to avoid?

How many?.. How many?.. How many?..

Broken Glass

Middle​ ​school​ ​girl​ ​with​ ​broken​ ​glass.

Glass​ ​she​ ​found​ ​behind​ ​her​ ​school,

Along​ ​the​ ​ground​ ​mixed​ ​in​ ​rocks.

Unclean,​ ​broken,​ ​shards​ ​of​ ​glass.

Raggedy,​ ​broken,​ ​torn​ ​fresh​ ​skin.

She​ ​didn’t​ ​know​ ​what​ ​she’s​ ​doing.

Willingly​ ​following​ ​a​ ​friend’s​ ​steps​ ​forward,

Forward​ ​into​ ​a​ ​deep​ ​dark​ ​hole.

A​ ​hole​ ​with​ ​scars​ ​and​ ​cuts.

Blade​ ​of​ ​a​ ​new​ ​pencil​ ​sharpener.

Blunt​ ​end​ ​of​ ​a​ ​pocket​ ​knife.

Broken​ ​glass​ ​found​ ​on​ ​the​ ​street.

Deep,​ ​shallow.​ ​Thick,​ ​thin.​ ​Scars,​ ​cut.

She​ ​was​ ​scared​ ​at​ ​first​ ​cut.

But​ ​she​ ​soon​ ​realized​ ​it​ ​helped,

She​ ​was​ ​able​ ​to​ ​numb​ ​pain.

She​ ​numbed​ ​the​ ​emotional​ ​daily​ ​pain.

The​ ​lies​ ​her​ ​brain​ ​would​ ​tell.

The​ ​stories​ ​her​ ​thoughts​ ​would​ ​create.

The​ ​whispers​ ​her​ ​ears​ ​would​ ​hear.

The​ ​other’s​ ​thoughts​ ​she’d​ ​listen​ ​to.

She​ ​was​ ​able​ ​to​ ​numb​ ​pain.

Easy​ ​to​ ​numb​ ​emotional​ ​pain,​ ​also,

Easy​ ​to​ ​numb​ ​the​ ​mental​ ​pain.

She​ ​numbed​ ​the​ ​mental​ ​daily​ ​pain.

The​ ​thoughts​ ​her​ ​mind​ ​would​ ​explore.

The​ ​images​ ​her​ ​imagination​ ​would​ ​create.

The​ ​dreams​ ​her​ ​sleep​ ​would​ ​show.

The​ ​ideas​ ​her​ ​brain​ ​would​ ​brainstorm.

Her​ ​small​ ​shards​ ​of​ ​broken​ ​glass,

Her​ ​sharp​ ​blade​ ​of​ ​pencil​ ​sharpeners,

Her​ ​dull​ ​blade​ ​of​ ​pocket​ ​knife.

To​ ​quiet​ ​her​ ​brain,​ ​thoughts,​ ​ears,

Her​ ​mind,​ ​imagination,​ ​and​ ​sleep.

She’d​ ​guide​ ​the​ ​blade,​ ​glass,​ ​knife

Across​ ​her​ ​arm​ ​and​ ​push​ ​down.

Looking​ ​for​ ​broken​ ​skin​ ​and​ ​blood.

The​ ​cuts​ ​hurt​ ​her​ ​at​ ​first,

But​ ​then​ ​became​ ​a​ ​tickle​ ​sensation.

Then​ ​became​ ​a​ ​numb​ ​gliding​ ​feeling.

Middle​ ​school​ ​girl​ ​became​ ​broken​ ​glass.

Glass​ ​she​ ​became​ ​behind​ ​her​ ​school,

Along​ ​the​ ​ground​ ​mixed​ ​in​ ​blood.

Unclean,​ ​broken​ ​shards​ ​of​ ​glass.

Raggedy,​ ​broken,​ ​torn​ ​fresh​ ​skin.

 

The Weight

She sat outside in the dark.

Alone, with just her calming cigarettes.

And her music, listening to songs.

Songs that belonged to a playlist,

Called scars, a playlist she hears.

When she’s sad, depressed, and alone.

She stares up at the stars.

Stars that are her only light.

The ones that only care, listens.

Millions upon millions in the twilight.

But she still feels more alone.

The fresh cigarette smoke helps calm.

They’re her fresh air from sadness.

The sadness is heavy like rocks.

Rocks on her small, weak shoulders.

She doesn’t know what to do.

How to relieve the unbearable pain.

She wants to sit up straight,

But the weight is too much.

Her shoulders are sore, she’s sore.

The pain can’t be released alone.

But nobody is willing to help.

The weight’s too much for everyone.

She’s left alone to bear it,

Carrying throughout the days and nights.

The cigarette smoke helps her breath,

Underneath all the rock’s hard weight.

She doesn’t know how much longer,

How much more she can take.

She’s getting tired, worn out, weak.

Doesn’t know how to get out,

Out from underneath all the weight.