The Dark and Murderous Me.

Thoughts, words, memories - all are being tossed in every direction causing immediate confusion. They are all like beasts pounding at the doors in my head causing a headache to beat away, like a thousand drums. My mind and all that lies within it becomes scattered. My breath is being taken out of me, i'm gasping for air. The numerous strains on my heart make it feel like knives are being stabbed into me over and over again. My stomach drops, then twists and pulls, just like a knot. All of a sudden, a violent rush of chills shoot threw my entire body. Instantly, my body weakens and the energy i once had is no longer present. The emotions in me halt, waiting to burst out at the opportune moment. Inside, i have fallen apart.

Outside, i look as if i'm dead. My eyes hold a blank stare. My lips tightly shut due to the dry air. The pale covering hides the bright light in my face. A slight stiffness holds to my soft skin from the tiny droplets of tears that drizzled down my cheeks. The hands and feet i call mine feel almost as if they are numb. My weakened body feels as if i am paralyzed. I can no longer feel, think, live.

All that i feel from the inside out is being affected by one thing: aloneness. Being in solitude kills me the most. Thinking and over thinking, while to myself, causes me to destroy all that i am and ever have been. All i do is attack and attack, to the point where i'm nothing. Anything that could fill my void ceases to exist. Pain is the only thing i inflict upon myself to bring me back to the real world because i'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all. Whether it be physical, emotional or mental, all hit that nerve that causes me to gain full consciousness. I snap out of that trance and come back to my senses, but a part of me still feels that small ounce of pain and always will.

I am my own killer; i can destroy myself, but i can also can be my own savior.

This here is a poem i wrote back in December of what i went through two years ago.

My damp cheeks, my red eyes,

All because of what I held inside.

It became too much to bare.

It felt like nobody cared.

So on that night it changed my life;

I would no longer be the same.

For who you once knew,

Became so black and blue.

On the outside i might've looked alright

But inside, i've lost the light.

"Am I really doing this?

Too late, it's done,

The crimson red is running down my arm."

To me, it cures the pain;

To the world, I look insane.

All those words going through my head,

"Go on, keep cutting, keep moving ahead."

The more I see the blood run down,

It makes me wanna fall to the ground.

Can someone, anyone save me please

From all of my misery's?

Once, twice, three times more

I cut deeply into my horrors.

Scars are what are left of my past:

Emotional and physical each day till i pass.

It all started with those words you said

And ended up with me being emotionally dead.

-Michaela Wheeler