02/08/2013 ik hou van die dag! ik hou van jou! eindelijk zijn we terug samen je slaat je armen om me heen je zegt dat het je spijt je drukt je lippen tegen de mijne we zijn weer een geheel mijn leven heeft geen zin zonder jou blijf voor altijd bij me voor altijd en eeuwig ik hou van je lieve schat
I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of yelling. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of feeling crazy. I'm tired of feeling stuck. I'm tired of needing help. I'm tired of remembering. I'm tired of missing things. I'm tired of being different. I'm tired of missing people. I'm tired of feeling worthless. I'm tired of feeling empty inside. I'm tired of not being able to just let go. I'm tired of wishing I could start all over. I'm tired of dreaming about a life I will never have. But most of all, I'm tired of being tired.
We say we love flowers, Yet we pluck them. We say we love trees, Yet we cut them down. And people still wonder, Why some people are afraid, When told they are loved.
Suddenly the mirror shows someone fat. Suddenly wrists become papers. Suddenly the scale becomes the enemy. Suddenly pencil sharpeners are weapons. Suddenly pillows are for tears. Suddenly life is worthless. Suddenly blood is relief. Suddenly sleep is an escape. Suddenly meals become torture. Suddenly friends are fake. Suddenly make-up becomes necessary. Suddenly everything becomes ugly. But one day the mirror will show somebody beautiful. Wrists will heal. The scale will be a friend. Pencil sharpeners will be for pencils. Pillows will be for comfort. Life will be worth living. Blood will be bad. Sleep will be for dreams. Meals will be effortless. Friends will be real and true. Make-up will not be needed. Everything will be beautiful. And you will be better and stronger for it all.
Depression is like a storm, It starts slow. Beating away at you slowly, Then it becomes stronger, And causes more damage, Then it stops. And you think you're fine, That it's getting better, Like it's safe to go outside now. And enjoy the finer things in life, Kind of like the eye of the storm, Then out of nowhere, It hits you again, Knocking you down, Harder than before, Until you're no more, It swallows you, Clogs your vision, So that you can't see how close to ending it is, And some don't make it, Thinking that the only way to stop the storm, Is to stop themselves.
Why is this pain within me, Silently it kills me, The endless harm is here. Save me from this nightmare, Angels cry he comes for you, Tonight will be different. Show yourself. If there is hell, There is me. When there is no me, There is no nightmare.
°Grab a plate & Throw it on the ground. *Okay, done. °Did it break? *Yes. °Now say sorry to it. *Sorry. °Did it go back to how it was before? *No. °Do you understand?
When you want to cut yourself, don't. Take a pencil and draw a butterfly wherever you were going to cut. Name the butterfly after a person you love the most in the world or somebody that really dislikes you cutting. You have to let the butterfly erase by itself, do not wash it! If you cut before the butterfly has been cleared you've killed it. If you don't cut it's alive. If you have more than one butterfly, one cut kills all. Someone else can draw butterflies on you as well. Lots of love and stay strong. <3 <3 <3
Just a cut. Just a scratch. "What's that mark?" "It was the cat." Just an excuse. Just a lie. "What with all the bracelets?" "Just fashion, why?" Just a tear. Just a scream. "Why were you crying?" "Just a bad dream." But it's not just a cut. Or a tear, Or a lie. It's always 'just one more' Until you die...
There was a girl She said she was fine She laughed and she smiled And she seemed so alive But that girl is dead And her life was a lie She had too much So she lay down to die
The blood, how it runs. The tears as they drip. The sting feels so good. You are simply slipping in. Can't take it anymore. It's the one voice that you need. To tell you that you are worthless. To bring you to your knees. Very little people know this. And act like it doesn't exist. The sadness. The depression. "Be quiet. Others have it worse than you." Just when you think you have had enough, It obviously gets worse. Thinking "How?" When it id pointed out to you from the beginning. It's been a long time since I have seen you. You should probably know that I still care about you. Even though the tears you gave me. The crying that you can't hear in the daylight. We all knew this would happen. Why not act the way others think you do? It's all just a big game, right? And we were taught that it's okay to lose? If you read the words in my eyes, And heard the thoughts in my mind, I am sure you would see I'm not okay. Please, excuse me while I clear my throat. It's scratchy from the crying for hours. I think I may be done. Not now but soon. Attention seeker? I just need a hug. Or somebody to tell me it'll be okay. I get smaller and smaller with every word. Every realization. I told you I would be done. Did anybody bother to ask? No. When the first cutting joke came along. I was already gone.
This is all I ever wanted, but life got in my way. You're all I ever wanted, I didn't see how it could change. This is all I ever wanted, nothing will get in the way. You're all I ever wanted, I knew that somehow it could change. I didn't know what I was missing until today.
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Over mijzelf
Ik ben V., en gebruik soms ook wel de schuilnaam Hope.
Ik ben een vrouw en woon in (België) en mijn beroep is .
Ik ben geboren op 25/05/1998 en ben nu dus 27 jaar jong.
Mijn hobby's zijn: .
