Casey Rank
Stories (3/0)
From Me to You...
I am alone in this world, deep down very sad and alone. I want to go home I want to feel stoned! I have so much hate in my heart, but I turn all this hate into art, with a cut here and a cut there, you tell me you understand but really you're not even a man... how can you understand what I go through when I don't even tell you? You say you see it in my eyes but Jesus man you are so blind!! You do not love me you just love who you want me to be. And for me to be that person is not who I am. I am alone in this world a very lonely girl, with so much fire inside of me, I desire of who I need to be. You take things I say out of proportion, well dammit maybe I should have been aborted because no one will ever understand my thoughts even if I explained them every day for a hundred years well dear my time is here to really just disappear...
By Casey Rank7 years ago in Poets
I'm Your Prisoner
I feel scared, I do not wish to be here. I lay in bed because I imagine things in my head, that I wish were reality. What I am living is not how I want, I want to re-wind the clocks and go back before I made this mistake. For God sake what have I done?! I'm more depressed than ever and I never in my right mind thought it would come to this. I take all my anger out on myself. I am not who you thought I was and you're finally figuring that out. You and I have our doubts, but neither one of us is going to leave. We need each other so we're not alone because what we did to get here is our fault, but secretly blame each other inside. I know you've seen me bled, but if one of us left I know we'd both be dead. From the company we give each other and from what you've said, I am your prisoner, now lay me down for rest.
By Casey Rank7 years ago in Poets
My Secret
The depression inside is too hard to hide. I cut myself to feel the pain rise within. You say I'm just doing it for attention, I say nothing because it doesn't matter, your thoughts of me won't change, but did you ever stop to think I'm this way of how I was raised? I will lay in bed all day long thinking of those thoughts I buried for so long, all I would want is to be alone because nothing you say will make me feel at home. The thoughts will get so overbearing, I must find something sharp, because at least the pain I feel is real. I will go down line by line on the outside of my right thigh. Crying with all of these tears I look in the mirror, I ask myself "why?" but of course I get no reply, I ask myself who have I become? I've become so numb with the pain running down my leg I just stare with my makeup all over my face slowly sitting down feeling more calm quickly wrapping up my leg and hiding my utensil. I leave my room as if nothing even happened, because what's on my mind won't leave until next time.
By Casey Rank7 years ago in Poets