Sometimes having your friends say they love you can make your day that much brighter

Shallow waters captivate me; I see the creatures within and ponder at their beauty.

Helping is making me break down every night and pour out my soul to the black walls of my room, wishing someone was there

When no one is home I blare the angriest music I have and pretend I'm somewhere else

Sometimes the strongest need to fall before they can move forward.

The scars that never fade are those of which I am most ashamed.

I do not want to hear you say you love me. I want to hear that you hate me and never want to talk to me again. At least then I would understand why.

I've lost so much more than my love for this darkness.

Do I really help anymore or do I just delay things?

Holding my tongue until it bleeds
is the only thing holding back the screams.