this is mine

I saw him, not in human form though, like a spirit but I thought bad spirits weren’t aloud here. it’s my head I should be able to control what’s here, right? it’s like the world stopped spinning and everyone went silent. my heart stopped beating and I’m afraid it did in my human body. I wasn’t able to with stand what was happening anymore, I wasn’t numb I wasn’t dead, I wasn’t giving up I was accepting that I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was. when I mentioned a while back I thought my head was getting darker and filling itself with impatient thoughts of dying. being blessed or waiting for a miracle wasn’t happening any time soon enough to stop that bad spirit from haunting me for the last few breaths if this moment. did I mention that bad spirits carved their own initials in my skin each night to remind me that they left me. well check my hips, legs, arms, and even engraved inside my head hurting me. and those nights I’m not getting over.

this is mine

did you know the demons we posses sometimes are as bad as we think. all the possibilities of getting hurt or getting into a bad position it sounds harsh but they can even tell you bad things to not get yourself in that position. we have a darkness and in that darkness there is light and sometimes the same goes with our light we have our darkness we have a story and every story has it’s side to the light in the dark and the dark in the light

this is minw

how do you be happy. how when you hear the screams of the suicidal voices in my head. world war 3 started. the demons we winning from the inside out leaving new scars each night and new blades for so. no new weapons but the pills and drugs that were handed to me by them. the human of hope were growing to weak and the demons weren’t winning fast enough they created a new weapon a gun, a mindless thought began as the bullet ended the war. what a selfish child

this is mine

I am crazy I am on and off I’m not depressed though I do want to kill myself though I believe I find 10 reasons and 10 thing a to kill myself for and with before I eat breakfast and it is very so possible. I’m not okay anymore I don’t eat as much I don’t want to eat I’m not breaking down in front if people because I see it as a cry for help I don’t want to be here anymore but I’m scared I will go to hell if I kill myself because god will see it as a sign I’m not thankful for this life. no one cares they say they do but honestly I don’t see a point we end up seeing each other in the end right. so take me

this is mine

What happened here, the mess looks like broken lines and all the gaps, the unfilled areas. Why is many errors and rough drafts. Why are the black spots on the paper look like dried up tears. Do you see the red marks around the paper, why do they look like cuts and bruises. Why are the smiley faces so small. Why are all the letters and words broken up, are these even words they don’t look like they are even a language at all. It looks like a sad kid drew this fucked up drawing blindly. I see violent tears that look like they are from knives and people trying to tear it with their fingernails as they bled. This drawing here looks like a demon—- a man walks up and says “this is a drawing my daughter drew to represent her life, when she commuted suicide.
-in loving memory