An insult is just an insult,Until you receive them like daily mail.A tear is just a tear,Until you've dropped too many to count.A stall is just a stall,Until it knows your tears better than your parents.A pillowcase is just a pillowcase,Until it hears your screams as your throat turns raw.A bed is just a bed,Until you feel unable to get up and face reality.A knife is just a knife,Until it has broken your skin more than childhood sidewalk scrapes.A razor is just a razor,Until it has left more messages on your skin than tattoo artists do.Self-harm is just self-harm,Until you've done it, and you are permanently stained.
closed my eyesshe was thereyoung and joyouscancer-freeeyes full of hope and wondernot clouded with painpanting of excitmentnot exhaustionfur soft and cleannot falling out in clumpswalking easilynot limping and fallingi missed hershe missed mei love hershe loves me
that i left youthat i wasn't worth itthat you couldn't care less.i'm sorrythat i don't comparethat i didn't do what he didthat you don't feel as proud.i'm sorryfor not finishing my homeworkfor messing up on your quizfor not being perfect.i'm sorrythat i didn't tell you i was hurtingthat i broke our caring promisethat i cut myself anyways.i'm sorry
The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,And the YearOn the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,Is lying.Come, Months, come away,From November to May,In your saddest array;Follow the bierOf the dead cold Year,And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.The chill rain is falling, the nipped worm is crawling,The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knellingFor the Year;The blithe swallows are flown, and the lizards each gone
I never lost as much but twice,And that was in the sod.Twice have I stood a beggarBefore the door of God!Angels -- twice descendingReimbursed my store --Burglar! Banker -- Father!I am poor once more!
The weight of misfortune has stooped my shouldersBut I don’t intend to stop for a good while yet;I afflict my own destinyAnd don’t want anyone to mourn for my fate.I’ve made peace with God on my lossesAnd agreed with him on the epitaphsThat should be written about my senseless wars.