But would you love me But would you love me when I'm sad? Would you love me when I'm blue? Would you love me when the pain slyly crept in on you? Would you love despite the tears? Ignore my selfish sobs? or would you stand to catch every drop of mourning that would fall?

The raindrops ☔ The drops of rain are my friends. They are tears. They are my tears. They hold so much definition. They fall as though they're heavy, but they aren't. They are light to the touch. They are ghosts. They come when they know that I'm mourning. When I'm grieving. They come to remind me that I'm not alone. That there are people like me. Because every raindrop means something different, but they all understand me.

Being Suicidal It started with a heartbeat. We learned, early in #life, that our heart beats, and that if it stopped, we would perish. Childhood was simple. Correct? The worst thing that could happen, in our wee minds, was for the vicious monster living under our bed to come after us. He never did. He waited. Patiently, comfortingly. Darkly. He waited for his moment, and crept in unnoticeably. And you began to doubt yourself. And you lost a sliver of that happiness, that innocence. And eventually, you felt that you were worthless. You gave up on yourself. You, that ambitious child who had once refused to give up on anything. You gave up, on yourself. And the monster grew stronger. He gained power, his sinister scheme moving perfectly, the way he meant for it to go. And you hate #life now. You believe that it is empty, that it is dead. There is no purpose for you here. There couldn't be, no... You deserve to be hated. Broken. Hurt. You look at those knives in the kitchen drawer, that used to be for cutting the crust off of PB&J's, and now.. It belongs near you. Near your skin. You long to hurt yourself. To cut, slice, penetrate that deserving, useless skin that is yours. To see the blood spill and cry those tears. And forget the mental pain for a second. And soon, you will cut, and slice and bleed till your heart stops. And so it ended with a heartbeat. The heartbeat of a person, who never had a chance. (this is just based on personal experience, I love everyone)

In My Dreams.. I find it hard to wake up in the morning. I'm never very tired, but there's always something holding me back. I want to go back to sleep. To my world, where nothing is impossible. Where my far-fetched hopes don't seem so unrealistic. When I'm asleep, my dreams enshroud from the dark, cold, merciless place that we like to call earth.. And then I find myself floating. Or am I? Floating, walking, tumbling? I don't know. But that's the magic of it. Not having to know. Not having to face facts all the time. Because in my dreams, nonsense is logic. And that puts me in a place I've always longed for.