The Trials of My Perfect Sister's Life.

Bloody sister.
She's a fucking bitch.
Stupid comments.

I say something:
"No one cares."
"Shut up."

You shut up,
Bitch.
Slut.

No one fucking cares
About you.
Bitch.

That's a lie.
They do.
Everyone cares

About my goody-two-shoes
Whinging, ass-kissing,
Bitch of a sister.

Not about me.
She thinks she
Is so fucking hard-done-by.

False.
She has no idea
At what it's like to be angry,

To hurt, to feel pain
Like I do.
She lives the sheltered life

Of a favoured princess.
Gets what she wants.
Always defended.

I hurt myself.
An idea
She couldn't fathom,

Not even in her
Scariest nightmares.
Cause she doesn't have nightmares.

Not like me.
She has
Mildly disturbing dreams.

The life of a bitch;
The life of my sister,
Must be a pleasant one.

Her biggest problems
Are me calling her names
And her group of friends fighting.

Ouch. That must hurt,
An awful fucking lot,
Bitch.

Toughen the fuck up.
"This steak is chewy..."
Fucking, spoilt, princess child.

Quit your fucked up singing,
Shut your stupid mouth,
And toughen up, bitch.

Love from, Me.
xx

Memoirs From My Messed Up Mind

I made a mistake.
I looked at his Facebook.
And our formal pictures.

And I talked to him
On MSN.
So, a few mistakes.

Now I've backtracked.
I'm back in Depression.
I still want things back.

So I occupy myself
In other ways.
Youtube.

I look up videos
That some may consider
"Disturbing".

There's red.
And sharp stuff.
And beautiful images.

This just goes to show
How fucked up I am
In the head.

I think up
What I can do
To myself

When I've got my stuff.
I take pictures.
Save them to my computer.

I want to do it now.
But what I use
Isn't where I am now.

Fuck that.
I really,
Really want to.

Fuck that as well.
I'm fucking messed up.
Clearly.

I listen to depressing songs
And learn the lyrics.
I wanna be Dark. Reckless.

I want that red, though.
The beautiful carvings and inscriptions
Of words and phrases.

Not on paper.
Not in the sand.
On me.

On my arm,
My leg,
My shoulder.

Don't copy me.
Trust me,
You so don't want to be like this.

It's quite horrible,
Actually.
Lying, Concealing,

Doing it anyway.
Because I'm stupid,
And fucked up.

"Help" isn't working.
I'm only going
To keep mum happy.

Well, that makes one of us.
Better than
None of us.

"This is for you..."
"Love is blood ...and tears..."
Beautiful Inscriptions.

Love from, Me.
xx

What is This? I Don't Exactly Get It..

There's something
I can't exactly
Comprehend.

I'm feeling...
Better.
A little. Just a bit.

Not very much.
But a tiny, little,
Miniscule, bit.

I think
It's maybe cause
I'm starting to finally accept it.

The fact he doesn't want me.
The fact that great thing we had
Is over. For good.

I heard a song.
That song by P!nk -
Long Way To Happy.

It sounds depressing.
Maybe it is,
For those happier than me.

But for me,
I found it
Inspiring.

"It's gonna take a long time to love,
It's gonna take a lot to hold on,
It's gonna be a long way to happy..."

It made me realise something.
That maybe, just maybe,
There might be something at the end.

Something that might
Be worth
Living for.

I don't know, though.
I'm just guessing.
But maybe there is.

The fact that there is
A "long way" to happy,
Apparently,

Implies that
You can get there eventually.
But can I?

There are a few stages to grief.
I'm not sure of all of them,
But I know the first few.

Denial.
Anger.
Depression.

Acceptance.
I realise "losing" someone
You never really had

Isn't exactly grief,
But surely the same principle
Can apply?

Either way,
I think I'm finally starting to enter
The Acceptance stage.

How much better
Will it make me, though?
If at all?

I don't know.
But I do know,
Some people

Go back and forth
Between stages.
What to make of that?

Love from, Me.
xx

And this was Only One Afternoon of the Week.

It all started
When I couldn't find
My phone charger.

This loss succeeds
the loss
of my fucking camera charger.

So I look
And look
And look.

Finally I find it.
And my camera charger.
Together.

I go off
At everyone
For moving my stuff.

For fuck's sake,
It's no wonder I can't
Find anything,

If fucking people
Keep touching it
And moving it around!

So I yell at mum,
She lectures back,
And brings up my driving.

I'm fucking sick
Of her holding that
Over my head.

Then she brings in dad.
She says he never takes me.
I remind her of the obvious.

He's never fucking around.
I don't live with him, and
he always has to go out when I visit.

It uspets me.
It makes my eyes well with tears.
I get angry and make to escape.

I cry in my room.
I want to punch something.
But I try to do the right thing.

I ring up my counsellor.
I've been emailing her.
But her shift just finished.

I hang up.
I missed her. Again.
I feel so alone.

Cause now I have no one.
Everyone to talk to,
The whole one, is unavailable.

Mum comes in.
I hide, but she finds me. She says
She doesn't like seeing me upset.

Yeah, that so makes me
Feel better.
She says its not my fault.

My eyes are red.
My nose is stuffed.
And I'm so not okay.

Love from, Me.
xx