It's an interesting feeling, really, to scroll through all the numbers in your phone, and realize that there is no one who will understand.
You never know when you wake up, if all will be the same, or if you'll be back in your dark place, again to feel the pain.
I am not what I ought to be, not what I want to be, but I am thankful that I am better than I used to be...
I can't stop crying... I don't understand, and it's not the loud, screaming crying... it's just the tears continuously roll down my face, and I can't do anything to stop them.
Self-injury is a sign of distress not madness. We should be congratulated on having found a way of surviving.
She was a girl who knew how to be happy even when she was sad and that's important you know.
I am sad but I'm laughing.
Every word, another scar, Some people say I cut for attention, Attention is the last thing I want, I tell them I've got my reasons, But what they don't know is, They are the reason I cut, I walk the halls and people talk, Their harsh words cut in deep, Don't they know what they're doing, Every word they say is another scar on my wrist.
Her sadness did not have that. It dripped slowly into her life without her noticing it, at least, not noticing it until it consumed her fully and smothered her with darkness.
I used to have many faults, not I have only two - everything I say and everything I do...
I've been a loser all my life. I'm not about to change. If you don't like it, there's a door. Nobody made you stay.
Unperfect. That's what you can call me. After all I am me, and don't fit a certain category. I'm just a girl who lives life day by day and always manages to put a smile on my face. Even if that day I'm a complete mess.