hope is not a plan its a good creature but it can’t do much its a loser that is holding on yet i yearn for finally giving up faith is evil and it yanks my chain puppy crying all in vain i am sad i still deal with all the same things that i once did i want the things that i never had the things that normals take for granted ah,im sad a brain and body not in war something to keep living for i cry forever lay at your feet wanting caring,wanting sleep but thinking i did worst of all cannot allow it so i slit my inner arms up pulling all the tissue out creating rivers from my shoulders to my thumb i wanna take all the bad things all the things i didn’t think that i had to deal with and i want to pull it all out of me there are things in here that i didn’t put there that were forced in me and now they’re glued and please dont yell dont scream or i feel unreal i am scared of you but i am scared of myself too i want the things i never had the things that normals take for granted ah,im sad a brain and body not in war something to keep living for i cry forever lay at your feet wanting caring,wanting sleep but thinking i did worst of all because you told me thats the case and i want the things that im not allowed to touch a sense of something pure like love and i need the things you told me i did and its the grossest sense of sickening and i should've listened to my inner voice speaking up but i never spoke up and thinking i did worst of all cannot allow it cannot allow it cannot allow it cannot allow it

i’ll tattoo across my chest that im unlovable to prove it and force the pills down my throat so i can kiss someone without puking im sick of being sick but sick is sick of wanting out my body should be a body but instead its walking ground but just strap your boots on and walk all over me ive gotten kinda used to that whole dynamic ill tie your laces if you just could listen for a while ill sing horrific details in the story of my life ill cut across my chest that im uncomfortable to show it cause im bad at saying how i feel thats why i’m not a poet everything i write is always repetitive and way too literal but the only way to say im sad is if i sing it so just strap on your shoes and walk across the sea or anything at all just get the fuck away from me those days where im just so depressed that everybody sucks i hate those days but hey its me so sorry but fuck off ill shoot my brain to pieces so i can prove that i dont like it the thoughts and all the pictures that repeat themselves inside me the therapy thats killing me the people who are treating me the ocd inside of me the fuckedness im trying not to be but i promised not to die i've promised lots of people i even have a hotline number saved to make them feel like im still kinda here that they shouldn’t start to mourn just yet even if it really does feel like i am gone already and my antidepressants are like gummy candy to me i swallow them with water and wait until the happy kicks in it doesn’t even matter that the only thing they do is make me ill the placebo effect of goodness is enough for me to be happy today happy today

saying that im fine made me realise that i wasn’t made me realise that i haven’t been for long so i've chosen to keep playing in a game that i can’t win in like im just support for others or a creature pretending but i wish i knew how other people felt how it would be to be well like i can’t pretend that im good if im not its like i should be better by now like my brain should fix itself and be fine but it hasn’t but hopefully i will be medicated soon thankfully so thankfully so thankfully so so i keep on living for a new day i keep on breathing in the toxic waste and i keep on waking up and living getting up and feeling shitty but i am here thankfully so thankfully so bloodgirl has depression cause without it she would simply be too strong she needs a little bit of sadness to string her along sometimes i pray to god and i apologise for everything but then i realise he doesn’t exist and i am over it saying that im fine made me realise that i wasn’t made me realise that i haven’t been for long so ive chosen to keep playing in a game that i can’t win in like im just support for others or a creature pretending

guess who broke their streak after 9 pathetic weeks guess im not as ok as i thought that i could be i didn’t choose this life but it chose me so tell me why is it my responsibility i still do things im not allowed to do like hit myself or take it out on you i still cut my thighs now and then and forget to take my medicine lately i can’t convince myself that i am good deep down nothing surprises me anymore in my behaviour as a monster nothing hurts me like the way that i hurt you and if i killed myself would i hurt you more or would you rather i was here this fucked up always messing up you always messing up me too i didnt want this i hope you know that i did not do you know that i am sadder right now than i ever ever thought that i would be who knew me before this shit or has it always been like this either way i cut myself today and i fucked up cause i like you but thats the whole fucking problem cause i dont know how to treat people i love so i dont want to keep on loving you cause its hurting me and also hurting you too cause i can feel you slipping away i can feel you slipping away whys it like this? it is hurting me which is hurting you which is what i,what i always do always fucking up somehow i just wish that loving was not so fucking tough but nothing is and thats why its unfair cause i love you so so so much and i am sorry that i love you i am i am i am sorry that i can’t make you understand you can’t read my mind and i can’t read yours which should be alright but its hard of course nothing ever is easy with me but im sorry either way either way

dont want bandaids or the pills just an all-inclusive cure something i can eat for breakfast that will make me always sure not doubting everything about everyone about something dumb that i should've done maybe thinking less is the cure i want but its also all that i have become thinking, always thinking wished for a switch-off button to my brain wished for hypnosis, wished for death always wished more or less but all i am is what i am not never happy or good enough i want the good things the things i cannot have what the sickness chose that i should never get fuck this brain, fuck fuckworld but i live here in this prison of terminal illness nightmare oh, im a cliché of myself but i keep on writing whether you want me to or not cause its the only thing that ive got its the only thing that ive got will you take what i give? even if its pure toxic? i promised to be better while i kept on cutting and i kept on isolating myself even tho i knew it hurt you and i see my mother in the mirror and it fucks me up cus im not what i want or what anyone wants cus im not what i want or what anyone wants im not what i want or what anyone wants

stuffs weird right now my brain and i are taking a tiny break how friendships die and how doctors lie and theres no more art to make i collect a lot cus i feel sad a lot and maybe hoarding is ok and copings often bad but so is killing yourself and im surviving so everythings is great every bag of trash every box and stash makes me overwhelmed and cry like a rock i found that makes a special sound just makes me wanna die now and i was almost fine but now im not alright and i dont know what happened there but summer came around, hit me like a pow and happy all but dissapeared now im me again just your tired friend just a blood girl with a frown i promise im ok and if im not i will be after all i am your clown

poisoning my body with bad things like telling myself that i am not good even when i try isnt that the same as doing drugs? getting addicted to not being enough cause now i’m so used to always making myself smaller than most than others the outside world as i see it the people i interpret to being healthier and happier than i’ll ever be and it is so sick to think that people hate me and also thinking that maybe that would be better cause i deserve to be alone i hate getting used to being depressed i wanna get used to feeling content so i dont just accept this way that i behave and can actually believe that things will be ok if you’ve been untreated for 3 whole years with therapists just screaming in your ears that nothing is wrong and that you’re not depressed its hard to get the courage to go through that again or believe in any positive thinking shit even if thats probably better i think i’d rather drink a smoothie than kill myself or do some yoga or whatever they think will help often doesnt help but i know im the responsible adult when its in regards to my own being i can’t pin everything on my new psychiatrist take medication and think “now everything is fixed” i gotta wake up i gotta go to school i gotta take showers and act like its cool i gotta treat myself like i’d treat a crying friend tell her: hey dont worry, cus sadness will end depression can be cured and so can ocd and so can many other mental illnesses,you see nothing is permanent and even if it is its your responsibility to tackle that shit which i know you can which i know i can with this amount of tough skin and these walls i wont let anything get to me i’ll claw my way out i’m sometimes disappointed in how my life turned out but existings kinda magical cause i can turn it all around with the help of my friends (and therapy and medication) and especially my friends i feel strong enough to face it and its the end of 2017 i hope by the end of 2018 this song won’t be so sad because i will look back and think “holy shit i’m so fucking proud of myself for surviving this"

i clog the toilet when i flush cus my apartments old and fucked up i’ve stopped worrying too much yet i still worry quite a lot i think im lonely but im not im just bored and i should shut up i think im angry but its stuff like life that makes it hard to live it,right? i know im not a monster but i still feel like a failure theres a ratio thats off of me pretending to be healthier i know im not the worst but its not like i am good i just know i could be better if i tried to be like you i know i know you say that i am great in fact you say it constantly i feel like after years of that it should’ve somewhat hit me i am better now than ever but i still feel really scared cus now i have something to lose if im not prepared and now and now i burn my tongue on soup and scratch the scab for days on end i spit blood into the sink and it makes me want to kill myself i fuck up my own body just to feel good for a sec and theres is proof of that if you just look down on my legs i was smoking outside when my cuts were peaking out my shorts before i got them covered up a stranger sorta saw it was a father and a child and he just gave a pity smile it wasn’t really anything but made me want to cry relapsing is hard but i haven’t talked about it after all ive done this shit for so long i just dont think there is more for me to say about how hard it is to only can relax when i am digging a boxcutter into the skin on my thigh and slitting slitting in the skin i always carry round with me shitty shitty how this is the final skin ill ever see i feel feel it when the blood is dripping down my pantyhose its fitting fitting feels like this is something i deserve and so the toilet doesn’t flush and i am sitting on the bathroom floor stopped cutting in the bath cus it just makes me want to do it more think im tired but im not i just haven’t eaten anything today and life is tiring as fuck but i am doing it my way im an addict for the pain and i lie when i complain about the scars that im covered in the knife i carry with me everyday i think my sentence is the pain and i like to hurt myself im not unhappy all the time but i feel like its the only way to feel like i am in control to get rid of all the thoughts thats why i cut or smoke or squeeze the dirt from all my pores its so much easier to hurt yourself than think of what you’re going thru so i would rather sit braindead and bleed out every afternoon every afternoon every afternoon every afternoon every afternoon

the more that i try the harder it is to imagine getting better the more that i try the harder it is to pretend that i got it all together and i cant pretend and i cant hold on it seems like i really cant do anything anymore the hardest is yet to come obviously it never gets easier does it the closer to dead the less im aware i lay in my bed in the smokiest air i try to hold on to my friends and my hobbies but the more depressed i am the more i really cant and i cant pretend and i cant hold on if i barely can exist and i really cant exist but im not letting go i write songs but they're shit im doing everything i can to get thru this and i try the best that i can but the less that i can the more i stop trying i want to pretend like i know what i am doing but fuck if i do i dont know anything highschool dropout soon loser trying to prove everyone wrong when they say i am good im not good im not good im not good im not the more that i try the harder it is to imagine getting better the more that i try the harder it is to pretend that i got it all together

so this is the first time i dreamt that you raped me im used to the nightmares i remember them faintly i couldn’t breathe cause your body was too heavy i tapped on your shoulder as to ask you to not break me i woke up in cold sweats the dreamt lasted weeks standing on the train station holding back tears dream became reality and reality too real so i just laid in silence and waited to not feel and im pretending to be ok when i know that i am not i am cutting so much lately everything i see is blood and i am waiting at the bus stop i am sitting on a chair everything around me is moving and im barely here i skipped school again today like all the other times where i just choose to lay in bed instead of waking up and doing things and trying hard to reach within to find a tiny piece of me that isn’t too sick to live living is a curse but i’ve committed to the crime i am here and i am breathing i am doing my time i am sick of all the waiting but i fear what will come next id like to sit in peace and quiet with a clock that never ticks and i am tired of my brain and i am tired of myself i just lay in bed cus everything inside me is a mess and nothing ever makes me happy except for slitting my own skin even though i finally know why its the painfullest of sins and im pretending to be sleeping when i know that i am not as to rewrite my own dreams so once i’ve hopefully forgot cus my brain likes to take good things i have and quickly make them rot so i dont like to close my eyes cause everything i see is mud i should just give up today like all the other times where i just choose to lay in bed instead of doing stuff and being happy and having hope for something that maybe will come along outta my brain like in this song i realise that im way more sad than i would ever have known had i just stayed in my bed watching stupid shows and pretending even to myself cause i dont know how i can fix this shit i dont know why im like this depression is a hole and no matter what i do i still sink i still sink i still sink

there is someting and i am waiting but i am losing my patience everyday its like im in deep seas cus i didn’t think that i would get this far i am alive now im almost twenty but i died when i was seven now im zombie sleepwalking going off on muscle memory alone but all my muscles know is the abuse how many people get to use and use until the last drop hits and its too late just how much pain can one person take i am tired even sleeping and i am fucked up from so deep in i dont think ill get to feel things that normal people do like loving healthy like kissing plenty like happy wealthy in safe like dreaming sweetly like feeling free in the brain not evil and pain and three years ago i said that the reason not to kill myself was then i could never feel the rain again hear it drumming on the glass laying in my bed at last sleeping just sleeping just sleeping with no questions asked but now im older and i know that life has more now im older and i know i can ask for more i want the things that normal people take for granted the happy life the safe life the boringness of the enchanted cus i know that there is something and im just so tired of waiting is living even worth it if all i do is trying not to feel pain if i had lived on back then would i still have a shot? do i still have a chance to get all the things that i never got?

i draw for the most part survive for the rest i have a thousand ton of cement hovering above my chest i have bones meant for cracking but i know its up to me to choose the ways i want to skip to pursue the path to lead and i have lots of things to say to you and things to say to future me and all the lives i lead before the year of 2019 im glad you didn’t die at thirteen im glad i didn’t die too cus if i did i wouldn’t have been around to eventually meet you when you meet someone you know is special brain stems from your brain they sense it i became a whole new being since our first magic meeting i was born anew of sorts learned what i am here for i was so afraid of being till i learned a human feeling something i’ve been told is love something that im thankful for i paint all the things i like but i also paint myself i always hated looking at my face and mirrors was a hell but now im really fascinated with the fact that i am real that someone could just reach their hands out and all my nerves would know to feel im learning everyday about me i am learning to give in and just accept that things are precious like my own shield of skin i want to someday learn to love it learn to not slice it in two one day i will learn to love myself the way that i love you when i meet someone i know is special brain stems in my brain they sense it i became a newborn being learned that everything is fleeting in a way that makes me certain that i would like to stay i was so afraid of being till i learned a human feeling something i’ve been told is love something i am thankful for something that is always present stronger than my deep depression when i sit and talk with you my whole being is so thankful too

hold me closer wait until i break i promise i was fine last week but now i am a mess and i wish that i was better like the people on tv they go outside and do shit and they dont have ocd and i promise i was happy once,or maybe i was not maybe ive been sad forever,isnt that fucked up? i cant say: oh i miss the times where everything was great! cus there has never been a year where things were just ok my brain is messy it slathers slimey snot i wish i had a scalpel so i could slice it all up id sort it into pieces,the good and all the sad id have like 20% left of things that arent bad and i think that im annoying or maybe i am not but everything i say always sound so fucking lost i cling onto people with everything i got hoping they wont squish me like a tiny nasty bug cus i lure people in with my patheticness then i run away cus i dont like myself i go from being clingy to distant and it sucks i wish that i was more than a little fucking bug cus i lure people in with my patheticness then i run away cus i dont like myself i go from being clingy to distant and it sucks i wish that i was more than a little fucking bug hold my hand and then ill go away ive sucked all of your lifestream out and now you cant escape! its like i am a vampire, i feel like im a thief i steal peoples time because of all my needs and im sorry i cant hear you when you tell me its not real you tell me that you have no problem being there for me cus my mirror tells me differently, it tells me i am fucked it tells me im manipulating all the ones i love and i make myself available for everyone to use i never actually tell anyone if i need them too cus im better at just wanting things but never speaking up cus then i can just tell myself that it is all my fault that i want all the things that i could never get that i want a little break from my sicky brain that i need a little hug so i can dissapear i need a little hug to make me feel like i am here x 2

sucking air from a balloon when i finally cant breathe and my body has given up and burst at the seams if i dont give up now, will i just give up later? is that how the world works, cus im just not getting better can i blame it on anyone? cus i cant blame myself thats what everyone tells me when i say i cant leave my bed and i suppose that it is true somehow i didnt cause all this pain but when it all comes down to it, it is my body and it is my brain im sick of writing fucking songs that all sound the same about death and life and feeling shit and other stuff that i always say what do people write about when they are not depressed? heartbreak? friends? i dont ever do anything i just lay in bed stupid stupid effort i put in seeing cracks in my skin purple marks that i create purple darkness in my brain cus when im really scared i squeeze my eyes shut but when its even worse i open them up and i look up to see nothing, nothing and i look up to see nothing, nothing and i look up to see nothing, nothing there is nothing up there for me, sadly is it glamorising my own pain if i sometimes dream of being dead? taking naps on clouds and being completely worryless

today i had an anxiety attack in front of somebody it began in my stomach then it went to my throat then i sat on the floor and i thought “oh no” my legs were shaking really hard and i couldn’t swallow my spit its times like these when i just feel how much im completely out of it today i had an anxiety attack and got comforted i felt like screaming and crying but i didn’t, thank god instead i just apologised a million times if your bodys used to icy cold then you never freeze, or so im told and i am used to never feeling so i just dont even as im shaking body quaking bones that creek when i move eyes glazing lips flaking numb feet when i should get up and go, i dont know how to my body doesnt work like a body should work so i think ill be sick or i think: this is it the death of blood girl and her messed up head the walls cave in and the building stars crashing apocalypse is nearing and i can’t do anything but all that happens is i shake for a bit an earthquake in my chest and it feels like shit i’ve learned how to breathe thru all of it though after some years you just start to know and it does feels like an attack like my body is just pulling a prank like: there you go now you know how it feels before you die

i am blood cute cus i eat you mostly eating myself i am shitfuck cause im lonely life is boring as hell and i speak up in my nightmares and everything goes to shit so im quiet,quiet riot and i cry for a bit i am angry when im singing and i yell all i can put the creature in my brain cage into the garbage bin she’s a wild dog and she bites me when i try to stay strong like when i play my guitar and i forget where i was… umm oh the problems,my problems are becoming my friends we watch tv, eat popcorn, have pillow fights to death i am used to feeling used, you feel the same way too i think i am crushing up my meds to make them into pixie sticks i am blood girl cus in blood world we are all alive check your voicemail, theres a voicemail from me inside saying “hey you, do your thing dude! blood girls cheering you on!” hope youre ok if you’re not hey maybe write a song