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Literature Text
stop.
just breathe.
listen to me:
put the blade down.
you can’t hurt yourself tonight.
now you’re thinking, ‘yes I can’
and that’s true, I guess you could.
but would it really solve anything at all?
you’re broken already and don’t have to prove it.
your eyes speak clearly of the things you can’t express:
things like how much it hurts when people stare
at the scars marking both of your arms.
and how words can hurt so much,
so much more than a blade
gliding freely across your wrist.
how you embrace pain
because it breaks
the numb
monotony.
your demeanor
is speaking volumes:
things you didn’t know
that you really do know.
like how the drops of blood
that your body sheds are just tears
that your eyes can’t—or will not—cry.
and that every scar that marrs your beautiful body
will someday be just a reminder you made it through.
but somehow, when you’re in the moment like this
all of that seems miles and miles away.
so you let your addiction control you.
saying, ‘really, just one last time.’
when you know full well
that that’s a lie.
you don’t care,
you need
blood.
and yet,
you are aware
this has to stop.
no matter what they say,
your problems will not just disappear
when you put on another fake smile
and tell the world that everything is fine.
your heart knows, though your brain may deny it,
that you need to be heard, exposed, helped, and understood.
you need to open up—just a little bit.
you need to tell the world your story.
you need to know you’re not alone
and anyone who tells you otherwise
just isn’t worth your time.
just keep on fighting,
because that’s all
you can
do.
just breathe.
listen to me:
put the blade down.
you can’t hurt yourself tonight.
now you’re thinking, ‘yes I can’
and that’s true, I guess you could.
but would it really solve anything at all?
you’re broken already and don’t have to prove it.
your eyes speak clearly of the things you can’t express:
things like how much it hurts when people stare
at the scars marking both of your arms.
and how words can hurt so much,
so much more than a blade
gliding freely across your wrist.
how you embrace pain
because it breaks
the numb
monotony.
your demeanor
is speaking volumes:
things you didn’t know
that you really do know.
like how the drops of blood
that your body sheds are just tears
that your eyes can’t—or will not—cry.
and that every scar that marrs your beautiful body
will someday be just a reminder you made it through.
but somehow, when you’re in the moment like this
all of that seems miles and miles away.
so you let your addiction control you.
saying, ‘really, just one last time.’
when you know full well
that that’s a lie.
you don’t care,
you need
blood.
and yet,
you are aware
this has to stop.
no matter what they say,
your problems will not just disappear
when you put on another fake smile
and tell the world that everything is fine.
your heart knows, though your brain may deny it,
that you need to be heard, exposed, helped, and understood.
you need to open up—just a little bit.
you need to tell the world your story.
you need to know you’re not alone
and anyone who tells you otherwise
just isn’t worth your time.
just keep on fighting,
because that’s all
you can
do.
funny how my mind works sometimes. i honestly don't know where this came from... this seems to be getting more and more common. maybe because the less i function during the day, the better i think at night. but i don't realise it at the time because everything's in a haze?
god though. i freaked myself out last night right after i wrote this.
anyway. like a couple of my other pieces, i started the first line with one word, second with two, and so on and so forth to ten. then worked back down to one... then, since apparently it wasn't long enough i worked myself back up to ten and back down again and yeahhhh.
if you ever have writers block, i recommend this technique. or try it with syllables per line, instead of words per line. that's something i've been wanting to try 
yeah. i'll stop rambling now.
please give me feedback! i NEED feedback! 
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Comments8
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Love the determination that comes through. There's an interesting pattern between positive and negative with the rise and fall of this format.
I'm sure I could keep going back and finding more things in here like that. Which says it's well written.
Mostly I like that that inner voice telling you you'll make it comes through strongest, incorporating the real trials you fight without being beaten by them.