So like, me and my sister were talking today and just joking around and shit, and some how we got on the topic of me being a little snobby. Now, I know I can be, but its never intentional. Well, as we were talking I naturally defended myself and came to a realization. Im such and uppity asshole all the time, because if how much I hate myself. Like, I never evaluated how I am, and patti really made me think, and it makes sense. I have such a low view of myself, that i think if I get other people to think I view myself better than I do than people will think Im just some snobby ass and leave me alone. I don’t like talking about my feelings, and when I act better than someone, no one will question why im so quiet or why I wear long sleves a lot. Its my mask.

At the age of ten she knew she would kill herself,

her disease started early

she knew she needed help.

Years went by and everything went round in a blur

trying to fit in, with the clothes, make-up and hair

just wasn’t working for her.

Her friends soon matured

and left her in the dust.

The thing was, she didn’t care,

she was too consumed with her own bloodlust.

He time was coming; she felt it in her bones,

She felt as if shes done enough

this performance has come to an end.

With her final breath she laughs with an amused tone,

she slashes her wrist with a smile on her lips

Thankful that she no longer needs to pretend.

connotativewords:

January 15, 2013

because I swear it’s as if she already knew me

She watched as her best friend lay before her. A broken mess, she’s never seen before.

Her eyes were the widest they’ve been, and yet she couldn’t be more blind. Her best friend lay before her, pleading for the help she knew would never come.

For the best friend knew, that the girls needs came before her own.

It was something the best friend has been through before. For these feelings were sadly familiar.

Her eyes were blurry  as the girl began to walk away. Her own pity followed her through the cold streets.

As the best friend lay in the ally, broken sobs are filing the air. Not for the abandonment she felt, this was something shes never felt before. 

A terrifying feeling that was raising from her chest. No matter how much she wanted to give up, she knew it wasn’t an option. This feeling, this new found power, wouldn’t let her. It made her want to continue on, to not let this new back wound be the thing to break her. It made her want to live.

This feeling she desperately despised. For, she thought, that all she wanted was to leave and go into a permanent slumber. This new feeling was so foreign to her that she couldn’t help but to despise it. Which only made her hate it more.