Just sit down and cry until you bleed.

My OCD is worsening, but my self-realization is getting better. Wool should not be a tube, it should be in a ball form, and I will spend that next 4 hours making that a reality. Good.

Maybe things would feel better if you were murdered. Maybe things would be worse if I was the one to do so.

If you don't understand the way you make me feel, you should get a heart. Yours must be rusted over in sludge if you can't see they way you make me hurt.

I may be not be bipolar, but moody doesn't give a good enough description.

Where have a been all these years?

This is going to hurt when it heals too, just I'll smile, because everyone deserves to.

A new obsession leads me to think Canadian wannabe punk rockers need to become my walls.

The pain I currently am feeling is most likely the want to forgive, but the stubbornness that you make me cry when nothing is there to trigger the flame.

I'd take what I did to your picture back if you prove to be who you really think you are.

Maybe I am dreaming, but is it you I am seeing?

If life is a candle, slowly melting down until your are a puddle than no one bares to looks at. Then maybe I wish I was floating wax swan.

Maybe I want to fly, to get away from something no one can save me from.

All I think is what hurts, but I see it has changed.

There is a good side to everything, but there is a never a good side to anything.

Everything still has a meaning, and I can still do anything.

With you to make it harder, makes my life a challenge, I'll never be thankless.

You made me who I never wanted to be. The kid who feels the need to sit and cry until they want to vomit. Thanks.

Never will I want to see you, if you lay there in a hospital bed, I'll come, to look sane.

Maybe I am slowly going insane, but you already think I'm a retard, why would my life matter?

If I'm such a bitch, do I make people I'm supposed to love cry uncontrollably? Do I cause them heartache? Do I call them crude names and sound like I mean? No.

Love is never something I want to feel for someone. I will hate, but never love.

I can sit here alone forever, waiting until I feel the pain go away. But what do I know? I'm just slightly bipolar.

Maybe I do matter to you. Is it because everyone else has no hope to be anything? Am I all the hope you have?

Your hope doesn't appreciate you. In most ways.

When someone does something wrong, that means nothing, you don't belittle them.

Maybe I don't want to be here. But you want me to be.

So you can force me to become what you always wanted to do.

A somebody, I'd prefer to be a nobody than someone who I am not.

If I make no sense to you it's because you never took the time to care, you'll never take the time to care.

When someone needs help, you help them receive it, I've been alone with my thoughts too long.

My eyes itch and burn with salty tears most days.

You cause them, always.

If you die within in the next 5 years I probably won't care. Later on, maybe.

You better hope you live if you ever want me to care.

Maybe I don't want you to live past Monday.

But maybe I need you there, to remind me of what I'll never desire to be become, to remind me why I need to be who I am, to show me that I don't need you. To live.

Living is something I've always wanted to do, for now on, I will.