Metal.

Has anyone ever told you what you were doing could kill you? and knowing this it made you want to do it more? this is me. thats how i feel, how i live. at least how i used too. It was something that called to me, fufilled me, made me feel real. Sharp metal was my favorite. I loved the feeling of metal dissecting my bare skin. It was an addiction. But one that no one can really understand unless they know, unless they feel, unless they cut. This monster has torn at me for almost two years. Killing me, making me someone i didn't want to be, but someone that was numb. Numb to the emotions, numb to the pain, numb to herself. I always wanted the scar deep, so the feeling would come back to creep. I felt worthless. Everything i did was wrong. No one understood. I took for granted my happiness when my world started falling apart, piece by piece. Crumbling like a rock slide. Huge pieces of me smashing into the ground disentagrating into dust. These pieces, they were happy. It started to bottle up inside me. My secret obsession with metal. People knew i needed help. Next came the conselor. It worked. but i stopped going for a little bit. I let my gaurd down and those feelings they came back to haunt me. i gave in. and loved it. Its a battle, and most days it gets the worst of me. I wish i could say i had won, but its a work in progress. Its something that eats away a lot of teens, and i just happen to fit into that unlucky crowd.




As she walks her lies follow.
We all know the truth is hard to swallow.
Seeing a smile on the outside,
but inside, only pain that she hides.
So few would ever guess she takes a razor to her flesh.
All she thinks is " would they like me less?"
" F**k the world" her eyes scream.
But this is not what they see.
She doesn't want to exist.
Iwant to help her so bad.
To see her this way, its terrible sad.
I wonder what shes thinking.
I wouldn't know where to start.
So who is this girl?
I guess ill have to break myself apart.