Reposted from Nixie

Once upon a time,
Many years ago,
Every child could be happy.
No death
No sadness
No war.
Just love.
But when a child lost their innocence,
Their blindfold
Ripped away.
Exposing all the dangers of life.
Nothing was off limits.
Precious treasures from before
Are now worthless trinkets.
Words no longer
A kindness.
They rip into you
Destroying you
Making you bleed
And collapse
And fall.
Words are our connection to others.
But each letter
Is
Laced
With
Pain.

I’ve been told of all my faults.
But never of my strengths.
So all that I know
Is someone saying;
You’re Not Enough,
No One Cares,
You’re Not Important,
Just An Idiot,
Loser,
Dummy,
Lazy,
And Stupid.
I’m not respectful enough.
I need to pay more attention to others.
But most of all
I need to learn
How to be
Part of a family.
And the only thing
That I can hear.
Is what they want me to do.
Of how I could be better.

I gave in.
I told myself
I needed to be better.
I couldn’t fail them.
I had to fix my actions.
It still wasn’t enough.
Their taunts gained more traction.
Fucker,
Retard,
Slut,
Bitch,
Friendless,
You’ll Never Be Good Enough,
You’ll Never Fit In,
Why Don’t You
Just
Give
Up?
All I heard were their statements
On how I could improve.
How I could be better.
So I followed them
To
The
Fucken
Letter.

It was never enough.
So
I just pretended
That I couldn’t hear.
That the words didn’t hurt me.
But they did.
I attempted once.
But I still lived.
I was close to trying again.
Then I found a friend.
They helped Me.
They trusted me.


I did.
I broke that trust.
I
Deserve
To
Be
Dead.

I’m just a monster.
Sick.
Unworthy.
These are truths.
The truths that came from the mouth
Of the one
I trust.
The words
That came
With a burst of anger
And swept away with a burst
Of wind.

Anger.
It lets us say what we want to say.
Say our truths.
There are no filters.
No nice words
No mercy.
You tell the worst truths you know.
Even if they aren’t the nicest,
They are still truths.
And deep in my bones I know the words they yelled in their moment of harm
Were still too gentle.
Too kind.

Those words used to rip me to pieces.
I used to hate those who told me the truth.
Now my heart beats to the tune of their words.
I’m not worthy of the air I breathe
The food I eat
The effort it takes to keep me alive.
And while my friend was willing to forgive my past sins,
Most of our conversations consist of
Him comforting me.
Me crying.
He spends too much time with me.
I ruin so much of his life.
He has kids
A wife
Family
A job.
Everything.
And he still wastes his time with me.
What makes me honorable in his eyes?
What makes him different from the rest?
I don’t want to disappoint him.
So I’m sinning again.
He shouldn’t worry about me.
The less he knows
The better everyone is.

When my own family doesn’t care if I throw away breakfast and lunch.
When I stand puking in the bathroom
To purge my indulgences.
When I
Strangle
Cut
Hit
And bruise
Myself,
Then why would anyone else?
What entitles them to care?
I’m just me.

I’m not sure if anyone noticed,
After all, they never look at me,
But I have trust issues
Social anxiety
Depression
Anorexia.
I’m a fucked up bitch.
No part of me is right.
My body?
Wrong.
My brain?
Even worse.
So many problems.
So many words rattling round my head.
I don’t deserve what I have.
I don’t deserve the friends
That I’ve made.

I wanted...
No, I still want
Nothing more than to disappear.
To go far away,
So I can’t ever bother anyone again.
And in a years time
I shall be gone.
Forever, this time.

I cannot fail,
I cannot ruin their lives any more.
I cannot tell them,
Or they will stop me.
For I know no one cares.
My notes are written,
My noose intact.
All that is needed is a body to hang,
And the courage to end a worthless existence