“I was 12 years old
When I first decided
That cutting lines
Into my skin 
Would cure me from 
My own mind.
It’s been 6 years 
And 5 hospitalizations
And 23 different prescriptions
And 6 attempts to get to hell
And 100 gallons of tears from loved ones 
Yet I’m still drowning and 
None of this should sound
Beautiful 
To you.
I was 14 years old
Sitting in a psychiatrists office
When the man in a suit sighed 
And told me that 
“Your case is very complex. I’m not sure if we have many options for you.”
It’s been 4 years
And 5 psychiatrists 
And 4 therapists 
And 5 diagnoses 
And 200 head shakes and sighs of confusion 
Yet I’m still wondering
What the fuck I should do
And none of this should sound
Beautiful 
To you. 
I was 15 years old 
When a boy decided 
That choking me and assaulting me
Would be fun
And it’s been 3 years 
And 400 scars 
And 100 trauma therapy sessions 
And 8 tear soaked pillows
And 20 broken promises 
Yet I’m still empty
And I hope to god this misery
Doesn’t sound 
Beautiful 
To you.
I was 16 years old
When I first tried ‘hard’ drugs
Thinking it would be fun
And it’s been 2 years 
And 3 months in a treatment center 
and 6 lost friends
and 286 missed school days
yet I still want more
None of this should sound
beautiful
to you. 
Taking your own life, is not beautiful.
Drug addiction, is not beautiful.
Mental illness, is not beautiful.
Self harm, is not beautiful. 
Sadness, misery, and pain is not beautiful.
My words are not beautiful.
Stop glamorizing,
and start helping.”