The Pressure to be Perfect

I have a little box in my room with my name on it in big blue letters inside the box i everything I want to but behind me...

Inside it lays these things:

My knifes
Pills
Bottles
Notes


The knifes are from a time in my life were slicing up my skin was a way of telling me I was living but deep down inside I know that the felling was just a lie. I once cut alone on my side small enough so no one would notice my I knew it was there and it reminded me of the truth. That I was alone.


The bottles are in there from a time in my life where I used to drink. That was a short time but I never want to go through...

~A POEM BY ME POEM GIRL~

What Makes Us Human.

What makes us human?
Is it that are minds work?
Her hands move?
Are bodies feel?
Or is it that we all have emotions?
What makes us human?
Is it that we all have hair?
Or eyes?
Or lips?
Or ears?
What makes us human?
Is it the Кости in are body that make us move?
Or how we all think?
What makes us human?

~Thanks~

I want to thank....

snootygirl50701- (Maria Masion

Ты were my first REAL friend on here that I got in touch with. You've helped me through hard times and I've help you. I now your secrets and I'm glade that I was the first person Ты told about what could...