A Day in the Life by Alexis Stroud (reading books for 5 year olds txt) 📖

Time Once Again

The time has come once again
with the razor in hand
Tears in my eyes, I've prepared
With towels by my side-
I reopen an old cut- make it deeper
The pain just isn't enough! I need more!
Now fresh skin deeper now.
I'll let it bleed longer!
See all the good stuff goes in and bad stuff comes out!
I'll be better now.
What! My alarm!
I must of past out!
OH, there's blood everywhere!
I'm still bleeding! Stop it! Stop it!
Crap! Mom's up! Clean!
Thank goodness I can clean fast!
Make up! Make up! Were is it! Found it! Now to paint on a fake face!
"Allie coffee!" mom yells.
She didn't even notice. What kind of mother is she?

The Struggle

Pain will go away...
Slowly, scars shall fade.
Words replay...
Over and Over again.

Now is when I need you
now is when I want you.
Lord... I got to have you
to make it through this day.

You say no one can hurt me when your near.
I just dont feel you here right now.

Right now.
Right now when I need you the most.
I need you to help me.
I need you to hold me.

I need you.... Right Now when:
These thoughts of mine take over:
my head starts the spinin'-
the blood starts a pouring
tears are fallin' now...
I see that bloody razor
know I need to change.
Lord.. I need you so I can.

Right now! I know I need you.

The time for me to surrender...
The time now to give my life over.
The time... is now

Cuz now is when I need you,
now is when I want you.
Lord... I got to have you to make it though this day.


To Be Normal

I'm sick of being fat.
I'm sick of all the pain.
I'm sick of my name.
I'm sick of my hair.
I just wanna be normal!
I'm sick of the cursing.
I'm sick of the "purging."
I'm sick of steeling money.
I'm sick of changing my hair.
I know it's all to be normal.
I'm sick of not having clothes that fit.
I'm sick of all the blood.
I'm sick of trying and only failing.
I'm sick of all the lying.
I tell myself it's all to be normal.
I'm sick of not being able to think about anything else.
I'm sick of not sleeping, only cleaning.
I'm sick of being weak.
I'm sick of feeling sick.
I ask myself, "All this to be normal?"
I'm sick of all the addictions.
I'm sick of the crazed counselors.
I'm sick of mom being out the money.
I'm sick of all the questions.
All this to be normal? This is not normal.

I Am...

I am confused.
I am tired.
I am happy.
I am mad.
I am broken.
I am running.
I am hiding.
I am in pain.
I am sick.
I am fun.
I am a "slut."
I am whatever "they" say I am.
I am weak.
I am strong.
I am a christian.
I am lost.
I am a nobody.
I am addicted.
I am a teenager.

The Count Down

The count down begins.
Five the towers fell! So many people died!
Four she has M.S? NOOOO! Your kidding no not her!
She will die! What my teacher has it! Seven years and still counting! Ok she may live.
Three my head is spinning suicidal thoughts are pouring in! Poetry blooms. Why are they mad at me? I writing what I feel- ok I'll stop altogether.
Two! The poems! The thoughts! They wont go away! Please! Stop!
Ok you win I will give in once. Or I thought. There's two, three, four, five, six and so on.
One? That's still to come.

How Cant She See

I sit here,
Cutting again.
I hear "COFFEEEEE!!!!".
Shit why,
Why yell.
I come out of my safe haven.
Mom yells at me,
Telling me to get her coffee.
I get her coffee,
As pale as can be.
Pale from the loss of blood.
She once again failed to see.
Pisses me off,
The fact that she can't see.
She can't see,
How bad I am hurting.
And it is all because of her.

My Scars Prove Your Not The Only One That Can Hurt Me

My scars prove,
your not the only one;
that can hurt me.
As I sit,
With my razor in hand;
Thinking only you.
And the pain;
And heart break.
I cut in to my arm,
Just one more line.
Proving that I can,
Feel something.
Something new,
Better than the pain;
You have caused.
Many of years,
I have dealt with;
Hitting and punching.
Now I can show you,
You are not the only,
Abusive one to me.
I abuse myself because,
You and your pain.
And no more,
Will I take it.
This last line,
Will end it all.

If I were to write my suicide letter tonight.

If i were to write,
My suicide letter tonight.
The opening line would read:
It's all my falt.
I can't stop thinking.
Why?
Then I'd say,
To my dealy loved mother:
I am sorry to have hurt you.
I just could not bear,
The thought of your suffering.
Knowing,
I am but a burden.
I have you know,
I will see you soon and I love ya.
To my dad I shall state:
You have helped me grow,
Wise and smart.
Taught me,
To protect myself.
You were the dad,
I never had.
Much thanks for that.
I would leave for Joe:
You have caused much pain,
But also much joy.
Like you always said:
I helped bring you into this world,
And I can help take you out.
We ya helped.
For all my sisters I would write:
Kassie, stay Kassie.
Ashley, go to school.
Jessica, be the best you can be.
And Brittney, you are my sister forever.
To you girls know now I am not a burden.
To my little brothers:
Garret, Colin, and Brandon,
Don't follow my path.
Please know,
this had to be.
Next to Tash:
My counslor;
You tried,
Bud did not fail.
To my lover Natosha:
I love you,
Good bye.
This is what I'd say,
If I were to write,
My suicide letter tonight.

I Sit Here

I sit here,
Thinking of her.
Longing to be over there.
I must try to forget.
The sound of her,
Softly, whispering in my ear.
One day I know,
We will be together.
No more fear,
No more scares,
Her and me,
Me and her.
I want to relive,
Hand-in-hand.
A small action led much further.
A kiss,
That made my head spin.
Never have I felt,
Such a ride.
Oh, how I wish,
She and I were sitting here

My Secret (#1)

I have a secret,
I wish to tell.
To whom?
This secret is to much,
To much for one to bare.
But this secret would hurt to much to share.
Slowly eating me alive is better;
Than the pain he will force upon me.
I know freedom would be nice.
But, then again would it?
If I tell,
Say Tasha,
What would she do?
Freak for sure!
Because I kept this secret from her,
From everyone.
I don't meds.
I don't want to be "hospitalized"
I think my secret,
Could be my love.

My Secret (#2)

I have a secret,
I wish to tell you.
Something painful,
Scary and shameful.
Things that we have done.
I didn't want to.
Sadly he did.
No, not physical:
Texting it was
Secretly hating all of it.
Loving him so I did.
I have many secrets,
I wish to tell you.
Some are painful,
Scary and shameful.


Why Do You Think What You Think?

Why do you think what you do?
Saying, "Blame it all one me."
I know it's NOT you're fault.
Quit say that it is.
Just because I started up again.
And need the help.
On my own again would suck.
Cutting, Smoking, one in the same.
Can't quit on my own.
SI, that what i did before,
6 months was a joke.
SI and cutting.
Are they not the same?
I don't want my life engulfed,
Swallowed up by little red lines.
I have a secret,
I wish to tell you.
But to you I am afraid.
Something happens,
Scary it is.
Every time that needle hits my skin.
Something but someone,
Forces me to do it.
I have a secret,
He says not to tell.

No Name

Well here I am,
Day 7, Hour 170, Thought unknown
"Start again have you?"
Sorry but yes. I'd answer.
"I don't care." I'd hear
Knowing what's to come.

Making it a month
means nothing to her.
"You're a disgrace!"
Tears falling from my eyes
she don't get it
Each little line is because of her.

So now I sit in my room,
Examining my red swollen lines.
5,10,20 staring at my leg,
Mad, sad, happy all the same.
All small tear falls,
"Allie! Dishes!"

Hoping out of bed,
ripped a cut.
Crap don't bleed!
Please...
Mom notices,
I saw that face.

Disappointment,
written so very well.
I knew,
say nothing,
do dishes.
She'll forget.

For forgetting is her cry,
but I know better.
Not a care has she.
Scared am I.
Wishing, wanting, needing,
a mother, but wait.

Whis is this?
Momma UB?
To scared to hide it.
To scared to share it.
A little help from Joe,
I had to tell before she saw.

No yelling,
No crying,
From her at least.
But I'm still to scared.
So I lied.
Said it had been a month.

But wait,
7 bloody days,
who do I tell?
No, not momma UB.
How about Bob.
Yeah he'll do.

He is that one,
away off on his own.
Brace face; 4-eyes; fatty.
He understands,
hugs me;
and wipes my tears.

I can't give him what he wants

I can't give him what he wants.
Or what he needs.
I really wish to wait,
but he wants me now.
I tell him to back off,
then he comes after me.
Anger in his eyes,
I have to give him what he wants.
To tense to move,
he moves me.
All i want to do is scream,
this pain he cause's,
I dont understand.
I love him,
I dont want him to go.
All I know is no more can i give him what he wants.
It hurts me,
and now my baby i dont want hurt.
I found out today its a little girl.
He dont know and maybe he wont.
I cant let her feel like,
She can't give him what he wants.

The Day Before a Month Away

In my corner I sit and cry-
All the yelling makes me wanna fly,
to worlds unknown-
Higher than anyone has ever flown.
Death would be the easy way out-
but me being a Stroud and NOT a Strout,
I just can't take that route.
I feel so alone, just so cold.
Numb, all I want is blood,
but that would be dumb.
On the day before, a month away,
from my last big flood.
But to cause another would make me flutter.
Maybe once... NO YOU DUNCE!!! Not even once.
One then two... just a few.
You know the drill, you just can't get your fill.
So just stop and chill,
Pray and say,
"Lord please take this pain away and help me make it through today."

Momma,