Okay, you know what? I don’t care if no one ever sees this, but I really need to let this out.

I HATE MYSELF. I’m not saying this for pity, I’m saying this because if I don’t I WILL explode.

I hate my legs, why can’t I have thigh gaps like all the pretty skinny girls? why is my skin a pizza? why couldn’t I keep the clear skin I was born with? Every time I look at my face all I see are mismatched features and a permanent frown. I AM NOT JOKING.


I can’t even bring myself to wear nice clothes. I mean, what’s the point?



Don’t you ever hate yourself so much you start to enjoy it?

Oh Butchery , Acccess Denied .

A shiver runs down my spine as I stare at the vulture infront of me .
” You did this to me .”
I meant for it to be a question , but my voice was too hoarse to cooperate .Everything around me blurs sharply except for the vulture .The foul air starts to sicken me bitterly  .The Vulture continues to be the center of my vision. Unfriendly emerald eyes .
Matching my own .
My feet try to move but my legs spasm and I fall hard onto the ground.My breath catches and I grimace in pain .Looking ahead , I see the vulture’s beak replaced with a cartoonish grin , staring mockingly at me . I manage a scowl and try to stand up . A burning urge was suddenly building up inside me , demanding I reach the vulture .I wave my arms around for balance and take another step forward .The air turns cold breaking straight into my bones .I cry in pain because the lack of air is agonizing .My body slowly turns numb , paralyzing my emotions down with it as I fall again .I grunt and silently curse colorfully but with no avail .I force my lungs to accept the sully air in despair .My hair is sprawled like fire sparks licking the blinding white floor.Hypnotized by the sight , I feel my body tinging and realize my joints were starting to spasm sweetly and the numbness was neutralizing. I take advantage of that and try to take control .The air changes again , turning thin , almost inviting my lungs to expand. Pain electrocutes through my chest , I’m selfish for more air .I lift my exhausted body off the now-comforting floor .My legs shake and my knees wabble as I attempt to stand straight . Suddenly , through the maze of headache that took shelter in my mind, I feel nothing against my bare feet . I look around but I don’t see the vulture anywhere anymore . Dirty fog starts to close in on me in what I smell is a rotting garden .Crimson clouds hang mercilessly above my head.

Blood fell that night instead of rain .

My body burns with cuts and wounds .Some sizzling , feeling like delicate paper cuts brushing the shallow surface of my skin ,Feather-light .Others made me wonder how my limbs were still connected .

Ruby droplets descend on my frail palms , contrasting sharply with my pale blue veins .The outlines of my hands almost blur into the fog that surrounds me .The air radiates with anxiety playfully sneaking into my lungs .

Blood fell that night instead of rain .

Blood keeps falling instead of rain.

I can’t stop the blood from falling .

I can’t make rain .

Happy two years anniversary.



I’m here .

They’re going to sedate me soon.I won’t feel a thing.

I’m laying on a cold hard operating table.Doctors shuffle around adjusting their equipment .

“nervous eh ? ” one of the masked surgeons says with big wide eyes.

I manage a scowl and grump with much effort.

No matter how many drugs they’re going to inject into my tried veins , I still feel everything .They don’t see the scars they leave on my soul.They don’t know about the late nights throwing my guts up wishing it would all just end .They’re never had chemicals forced into their bodies.

How could a body just decide to self-destruct ?

It’s MY body .I’M the one who’s supposed to control .I’M supposed to decide what happens.But apparently , that was never my decision to make .

Brain cancer stage 2.

I might die . This might be the last time i’m conscious in this world . Do I want to spend it contemplating the misery  I had to go through ?

Voices invade my mind til I could barely distinguish my own .I remember back in 5th grade , march 1st , it was my birthday .It’s one of the few memories that survived my bad memory .My mom got me out of school and we spent the day at the lake . I still remember how the water shimmered like blue crystals and stars , the horizon merging with the fluttering clouds like waves .Peanut butter and oreo sandwiches ,That was out tradition , Our special something.The tickling Wind breezed by while my mom sang to me softly .

Happy birthday Skye.

I remember that day so clearly .I remember the smell of cotton fields she preferred.She hated fruity smells and so did I .My biological father was never in the pictures.It was just me and her .

7 months later she went missing . I’ll never forget that day . How could I ?

I cried so hard I couldn’t cry myself to sleep.

My grandparents took me in and I never cried again . Not because I was happy , I wasn’t anywhere near that . I didn’t cry because hope was slicing me inside. I kept thinking she’s going to be back , she wouldn’t want to see me like this . I had to be better for her.

8 years later and nothing changed . She never came home . My grandparents got too old to acknowledged my existence and I got cancer. In a twisted way , it was the only constant I could hold on to for a while .

Sometimes she talked with me , I would almost believe she was in my head battling with the tumor . Other times I forgot her voice & face. But the smell of soft cotton fields ? I could never forget that .

Today , she stayed in my head comforting me . I allowed myself to indulge and reminisce for one last time .Our memories , our fights , our everything .

” sedative is going to kick in soon . Count to ten sweetheart .” The nurse said with a cheery smile .

I’m about to get my brain cracked open , what’s so cheery about that ?!

I grunt and silently count.

Maybe she died and that’s why she never came .Maybe I’m about to follow her.

The stale florescent lights fade and I go under.


I listen to the breathings of my soul.





For a moment , no voices existed but my own.I dared to look at my reflection.

Is this what I really look like ?

Is this what people see?

Do they notice the lost look underneath ?

Do they see through the layers of protection I’ve gathered through the years ?

I feel the breathings of heart.





For a moment , no flashbacks invaded my mind.

It was just me and her .



Dear Diary ,

March , 18, 2013
I cant settle on a handwriting pattern
I cant settle on a facial expression Sometimes I feel like a fake Just that somebody seeking attention .Other times its like raining pain on a soul that’s not mine, But I feel what it feels , I think what it wants me to think And I feel like im drowning in it .
How could you drown in your own skin ? I’ve had it for years , but I can’t seem to find comfort in it It limits me to being this hallow shell .
Sometimes I wonder why we’re drawn to beauty when it can be so easily erased It. can be wiped with just an action
A word
A change IN heart
The absence of essence is what I might be lacking.
It doesnt feel like a noose tightening around my neck Nothing like that at all. The voices just consume me as whole. Sometimes I want to feel nothing 
Be nothing
Stay Nothing.

A Burden

Blue stars

Blue wind

Blue light

I Found the secret you hid every night
I saw the Dancing moon Hovering nervously above the clouds
You danced gracefully,
Touching light
Stepping closer
Your wrists bear maps of the past
The truth in our story revealed
knots of our history come undone
As memories Sway to grey
The wind takes control of my paralyzed body
Lies living in your veins ate your faith
You played me like a marionette
My knees give in to temptation
I fall victim to my worst fear
Strings tear apart
Beauty was all but in your heart
Taken by the delicate glass tears ,
The wild tornado in your eyes made me feel closer to home
As the Moon eclipses,
Shadows arise
Your eyes shine
Dwelling red.
But you’ve hurt no one but yourself
I find strange comfort in loosing myself to your eyes