Yikes. More.

I found a pile of poems from when I was little. "Little". Hah. That's what the other one was too. I threw most of these away, I don't know how I missed these. They make Cullen too sad for me to keep around, and now I know why. I can almost remember where I was, how horrible I felt and which boy I let use me and abuse me. ICK. And how horrible it was to have people who were supposed to love me saying the meanest things to me, as if I weren't already trying to die. UGHHHHH!

If they knew I came
up here to cry,
to replay their words
and hope to die....
would they stop?

If they knew I felt
I have no use
so I happily take on
their abuse....
would they stop?

If they knew I see it
over and again
I can't forget the
how or when....
would they stop?

If I lay here dead,
the bad all gone,
would that make up for
all the wrong?
Would they stop??????

and I remain
unworthy to eat
But with your words
you continue to beat...
When will you stop?

You retell my badness
"remember when?"
As if I don't know.
I throw up again.
When will I stop???

Another night goes by
I'll awake in the morn
We'll beat me up some more
with our hate and scorn..
Why don't we stop????

-----------------------------------

I sleep with a picture of Jesus, does anyone know that?
Does anyone see my picture of Jesus and my used up tissue on my bed in the morning?
My tears full of prayers to help me live and help me die all at once?
Does she come looking through here to try to find evidence of what I'm doing?
Does she avoid it here because I'm so horrible she doesn't want to know? Yes, I bet that's more likely. Does she think I can hear any of the good things she says after reminding me of how horrible I am? I already KNOW, I want to scream. I ALREADY KNOW I'M HORRIBLE.
No one knows what to do with me. I don't even know. I feel like I'm screaming and no one
hears me. But I hide so well, oh I know I hide it all too well.
I smile, I laugh, I dance into arms of people who just want to use me anyway, and I work hard on not caring. I'm doing this to myself as much as anyone else is doing it to me.
He's such an asshole, and I know it. I know, I actually know that I don't deserve to be called the names he calls me. I don't deserve to be yelled at in front of the whole football team. I don't deserve the shoes that fly at me. I don't deserve it. Someday I won't stay anymore.
Someday I'm going to fly. Someday.
No one knows how to help me. I don't even know.
But I have to wonder: does it have to be this way? Am I meant to be struggling so much, by myself? I don't feel like there's anyone in the world that can help me. There's no Savior coming to rescue me from myself. Not one trustworthy person who can help me.
And my choices are either die to escape, or wake up and keep fucking going.
Fantastic.
Someday I'm going to fly.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Harsh, huh. Aren't you glad that wasn't *your* story growing up???? Doesn't it sound like fun to be stuck in an eating disorder, promiscuous in highschool along with a 100% emotionally abusive, 5.7% physically abusive boyfriend? Making one bad decision that leads to having to make more decisions until it seems there's no way out? Everywhere you turn, everything is "bad"---Jesus couldn't even save me. THANK GOD highschool is over. I'm so surprised I lived through it. So, so surprised. I'm stronger than even *I* know. If you had any idea of how ...ugh. It's over. Whew. Way over and way gone.

*rips up and throws into garbage*