Don’t assume, don’t judge.
Don’t punish someone for something you don’t have proof for.
Innocent until proven guilty,
That’s not just the law,
It makes sense too.
If history shows that the person is good,
Why would you think it’s them that committed the crime?
Innocent until proven guilty,
Follow that rule.
Nothing is ever black and white.
There’s a gray area,
either you don’t know what what decision to make,
or maybe how you feel.
That’s ok.
If thing were black and white there would be no gray in this black and white picture.
People don’t care.
People don’t wanna hear it,
especially when you keep mentioning it.
Pretend you’re ok.
Pretend you’re happy.
Pretend you had a good day.
People won’t listen if you keep complaining,
so pretend you’re ok.
Comfort can be found
in the blade of a knife,
or a razor
for some.
I made a promise I wouldn’t,
but promises can’t be kept even
if you
try your
hardest.
I’ve let the razor
make my
blood run
red.
On purpose makes me feel guilt,
that stopped long ago.
Accidentals happen.
Those are the best,
you don’t plan it.
Then suddenly,
you feel a sting
as the blood runs
down
your leg.
Let the water touch
where the razor made its mark,
make it sting.
That’s the best part
about
shaving legs.
The First Cut
Wasn’t the deepest.
No, not at all.
It was like the others,
a subtle rend of anxious skin,
a gentle pulse of crimson,
just enough to hush the demons shrieking inside my brain.
But this time they wouldn’t
shut up. Just kept on
howling, like Mama,
when she was in a bad way.
Worst thing was, the older
I got, the more I began to see
how much I resembled Mama,
falling in and out of the blue,
then lifting up into the white.
That day I actually
thought about howling.
So I gave myself to the knife,
asked it to bite a little
harder, chew a little deeper.
The hot, scarlet rush
felt so delicious.
I couldn’t stop there.
The blade might have reached
bone, but my little
brother, Bryan,
barged into the bathroom,
found me leaning against
Grandma’s new porcelain
tub, turning its unstained
white pink.
You should
have heard
him scream.”
– From Impulse by Ellen Hopkins (pg. 21-22)
allysnotsosimplethoughts 