XbeyondmeX

Eve was the first girl ever to be alive. The first woman into another person’s life. Can I say that MY “Eve” is similar to her?! MY Eve, was the first girl in my life. My first love. She has the most beautiful, long hair that I have ever seen I’m not usually fond of girls with long hair, but she can defiantly pull it off. (Just long enough to cover her chest area when she stands up) Pretty as a picture. Her face, flawless. Sure every teen might have issues with acne, But not her. So smooth, so soft. So her. Her eyes, pretty blue. You can be swallowed into a new world when you look deep into them. (They look even bet

1 person I fell in love first. This person was my summer, my joy, my love. It sucks that because of who we are you won’t be with me.. It tears me apart. Because it isn’t fair and just that we can’t be together cause of some lame rule that won’t allow it. 1st and really painful heartbreak…

Something that I never thought I’d do. Then I did it… I used a pen. Digging deep into my flesh. No blood. Just red irritated skin marks. Only 3 of them. That was the beginning Later I used a xacto knife Not deep. (only deep enough to see a little bit of blood) Started with 5, then 15, then 28, then 56…Etc.. I kept doing this. Every other night. It calmed me. Relaxed me. One of my friends saw them. She cried and cried. I told her I would stop. So I did. Stopped cold turkey as some might say. I made it over a year and one month. I was on a roll…Until last week. After being reminded of my pain day after day&hell

Pain, I feel it every day now… It's hard to wish away… What more is there to say? It happens.. Missing you is what causes the pain… I’m growing weak… Is it because what happened between us… Not the first part of course, but how things ended.. When you left for school… The pain is going to be around for a while… I don’t know how long… But I can tell it will be a long while… Will I ever be as happy as I was when I was with you? I’m falling, deeper and deeper into the unknown, lost in time

Everyone has different sides of them self Most have two Bad or good But me, I have three… Side 1…the bad The side where I’m mean. I get jealous, yell at times, and don’t do what people tell me too Someone who doesn’t care about what people think. The side that holds grudges… The side no one wants to be around. I hate it because at times I don’t recognize that side until I hurt someone Then I notice it. Side 2…the good The side where I’m me. The side that people see as innocent, wild, crazy, caring, fun nice, The side that people like, and wants to be around. The side that I like.

they say an eating disorder will always be an eating disorder, that a cutter will always crave the open door of their skin. that sober is just another way of saying thirsty and that relapse is just as far as the breadth of your self control. when did we accept our addictions as a part of us? maybe we've fallen in love with them, we have been taught to define ourselves by them. never forget, your vices are cancer. they are growths, sucking life. they will never do anything but sink you, yet still we don't get better, because we don't want to. not really. why is the recovery so much harder than the relapse? replaying old cycles like a favorite

your fingers read like brail the tallies sunk too deep in my skin like a map you read my scars. you translate the manifestation of my pain and whisper it'll be alright. and i'm blind, in need of a cure you cannot give broken, in a manner you cannot fix. (because maybe you are too). i'm the expiration date, set to implode. the clockwork, winding to a stop. a nuclear leak, spreading radiation. i'm the fixer-up thats not worth the money. (can't you see?) but that night we spent on your living room couch, your fingers wrapped tight around mine holding them captive from tearing out my hair. letting you in is hard for me, please understand. yo

somedays, i can admit to myself that i don't want to be alone forever, even though my bones insist its safest. somedays, i can't even consider getting that close to someone again. but i've been alone for 18 years, part of me want to find out what a together that doesn't involve him feels like. to hold someone's hand to talk into the night and feel the earthquake in my bones when they smile at me. i want to write poetry into the soft corners of their wrists and across the gentle slope of their collarbones. and learn to kiss without the thought of corrupted lips in my skin releasing involuntary shudders down my spine. to be a safe house for so