I love sylvia plath she understands me

I love her poetry she writes about self harm and suicide and its like im looking at if i wrote the poem myself she is the only one who understands what its like

Once i finally get rid of everyone who loves me by making them hate me i can finally kill myself and ill be at peace forever just like sylvia plath said i want to follow in her footsteps because she is like me

Its so funny when i cut myself and the blood starts to come out and it doesn't hurt anymore it only itches like it wants me to reopen the wound again and again

I dont really clean up the mess i just stare at the blood for a really long time and then i touch it usually its stopped bleeding by then because my pencil sharpener isnt big enough to cut my skin very much even though my wrists are skinny and i am skinny it still is not big on my skin i would like for the cuts to go deeper it would make me feel better because im not a big fan of running the blade over the same cut

I think it is interesting that blood is so vibrant i wonder why the light reflected in that way to make it red i imagine blood would be strange in any other color i wonder if others would take it as seriously if it was something pretty

I dont see why others care so much it is strange it does not matter if i cut myself because it makes me feel better sometimes and i like it

I will never understand the world im in my mind all the time i do not listen to the others who say it is bad for me because they are unaware of my joy

I dont think the world is pretty only maybe the leaves and the trees i would like to lay in the snow and stare at the sky i feel bad for making the snow red and unclean like me but i have to sacrifice others happiness for my own i think

Im feeling dizzy and the noises that would make me cry do not do anything to me now

I am excited to get home to see my blood again i have been waiting patiently i dont mind if it was a two week streak it doesn't matter to me i just like to keep track of the days i do it

I don't remember anything so i like to keep track of patterns and see if i can recognize them

There will be no funeral there will be no coffin i will rot into the ground and feed the earth as an apology for my sin of living and using up the oxygen i hope nature will forgive me

The only thing that will ever hold me is the dirt that my body will decay into over time slowly i will pray for something to break all of my bones i do not want a trace of me i want to be used for good i want to return to the earth as nothing and everything all at once i will be in the dirt and in the trees and in the animals and wind and i though i wont feel anything i will be happy to help nature live through all of my nutrients

I messed up my typing but i understand my words

My hands are cold there is at least 4 windows on the bus which are fully open and the air comes through

Sometimes i think of my blood like some little red creatures just waiting to be set free and i can do that for them and i can be helpful and useful

Im like a tree i need to cut my twigs and branches off i am a birch tree

If i go to the mental hospital my parents will visit me maybe and i wouldnt like that

My daddy will ask what happened to his little girl and i will just stare My mommy will pretend to care but complain about the bills My step dad will not be there My friends will not notice i am gone

Maybe they might notice but they will never try to find me

My fingers are becoming hard to move because of this cold

I like the way my hair is so weightless and it can fall on my shoulders and it can blow in the wind and i dont mind when it gets in my eyes

Music is fun

The world feels so far away from me

I have a few friends

I have 2 friends

My friends names start with W and L

And they are nice to me

They are like me

I cannot move my fingers well

It hurts a little now

I am not as enthusiastic as before so i am just going to stay in bed

Maybe i will do it later if i feel like it