POEM & PHOTOGRAPH FROM NOVEMBER 2009 (Age 23)
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This is me when I'm suicidal.
This is me with a broken finger
because I beat myself over the head
with a flashlight in a drunken rage.
This is me smiling.
This is me hiding the slash marks
down my thighs.
This is me with a broken heart.
This is me with a drinking problem.
This is me when I'm suicidal,
and I look pretty normal... Don't I?
I am not a prize to be won. I am an Empire to be built— To be invested in, protected, cherished, and maintained. So when the millennia pass, and our bodies have long since turned to ash; They will sti
Some people aren’t meant for us. Sometimes they belong to someone else. Sometimes they’re just not interested. Sometimes the ice in their heart stops them from stoking the fires of love. Sometimes the
