Grey Isn't black

Walking in a daze, not myself anymore. You stop and ask of my zombie ways. How can I say that last night, I almost died? Or even better, that I wanted to? I've never been that alone or scared. All the ones that I loved left me, and I had no one. I cried until I couldn't breathe. I went to go on my journal, but that they took too. I cut myself so badly,that you couldn't tell the color of my pants. I was terrified, to live, and to die! Luckily, someone that cared, was willing to talk. I shook violenty, and had yet ANOTHER attack. I bled, and bled, and bled. What's the color that I wore? I was so alone, and beyond distrought. I didn't know that life could always hurt this bad . . . I knicked a vein, and it just wouldn't stop. I couldn't breathe, and I turned an unatural cold. I calmed down a bit, and realized that the blood still kept flowing. I scurried down the stairs, leaving a lovely red trail. I wanted to bleed harder, and end all the crap. I wrapped my legs up, and attended to my side. I really didn't care, bring me the death!!! Bring me peace, peace of mind, body, and soul. Make me not hurt anymore!!!!! Unfortunatley, it stopped, and here I am. She told me that I had to live, and that She would miss me. I have to be strong, and keep going. I hate that word . . . strong! What a bunch of crap, it means nothing, just a stupid word. They tell me over and over the same things, YES, I CUT!!! No longer a secret, yes it's bad, yes I could die. But what if you wanted to? What's the point of living through continous piles of nothing but crap? I don't see it? They keep telling me the same, how about something different? I'm so confused, as it well shows. It serves for a substitute of something else. Unfortunatley, it stopped, and here I am. I went to school, wearing pants so you couldn't see my own handy work. I scared them, they saw, and they wished that they didn't. Some believe that it's a lie. Ha, do the cuts tell a lie? Shall we have a scar party, do you wish to view them all? Ignorance, rules too much of this earth. It doesn't make sense, all I know is that grey isn't black! I was wearing grey, and that's not black. They equate black with depressed, but grey isn't black. I wasn't depressed, I just wanted to die! Look what they did to me . . . drove me to insanity!This is just an account of Sunday night, parts may be hard to understand. It was written while having an anxiety attack. Written November 20th, 2001 © on Nov 20 2001 08:10 AM PST   0 • 1