armacias

As soon as I first laid eyes on her, I could tell she was falling apart.   I was in my local Starbucks, waiting for my regular lunchtime coffee to be prepared, considering my long list of objectives to complete by the end of the day, when out of the corner of my eye I spied her across the room. She was sat in the corner of the shop, almost entirely hidden from view behind a conveniently placed pillar. She was huddled over a book, both hands clasped tightly around it, as if holding on for dear life. I found her instantaneously intriguing, partly because she was not one of the regulars that I always saw inhabit this particular Starbucks, but ma

‘Sorrow found me when I was young. Sorrow waited. Sorrow won.’ - The National. I sit cross-legged on my bedroom floor surrounded by dozens of children’s books and fairy tale collections. Some of the books are sprawled open onto random pages, where delicate calligraphy detail wonderful love stories, and where colourful illustrations depict beautiful, helpless princesses stuck in towers with chivalrous, handsome knights battling to win their lonely hearts. Other books are piled high on top of one another, creating paper castles and mansions such as the ones described within their very pages, wherein romance blossoms and a h

                                                                         'You got my heart in a headlock'                                                                                                  - The Feeling. I first saw him on a crisp, chilly morning in late October. I was late for work and therefore forced to break into a run in order to catch the 7:32 train. This is going to be one of those days, I thought to myself. Running as fast as I could in my uncomfortable work shoes, I rushed toward the train station, heart in mouth as I desperately tried to get there in time. After what felt like an eternity, I finally made it to the st

                                                    ‘Waiting for the end to come…’                                                                                      - Linkin Park.                                                            ‘I need to get my bearings!                                                I’m lost and the shadows keep on changing’                                                                                      - Poe. The Jack-O-Lanterns line my garden path obediently, their maliciously contorted faces illuminating the way to my front door. Three pumpkins on either si

                                   ‘Lay the young blue bodies with the old red violets’                                                                                      - The National. I am writing this down because I am terrified. Maybe if I can write down the events that have occurred this past week, I can gauge some understanding of the situation, or at least try and work out what I can do to try and save myself. I don’t even know what is real anymore. Maybe I’ve gone mad. Perhaps this nightmare is exactly that, just a bad dream that I will wake up from. But the problem is, I can’t wake up from this. So

                                                           ‘I’m going to be happy’                                                                              - Gold Fields. I stare at the tiny world within my hands. So small, so perfect, so complete. A sense of tranquillity and calm seems to resonate from within it. The ground is covered in a thick layer of pure white snow. So white that it practically glows. There is a miniscule house towards the back of the globe, dusted with a fresh coating of snow. A house that I imagine to be warm, cosy and welcoming. A house that is a home. Sometimes, when my troubles threaten to

Stop hating her for the littlest things. The things she can't prevent, The things she can't save herself from.. Stop demanding her to do things, Things she can't accomplish, Things she can't imagine being done... Stop lying to her, Telling her you love her, Want her, need her... When all you've ever done is make her want to Die. Stop hating her for the littlest things. The things she can't prevent, The things she can't save herself from... Because, When those little things you've done Take her down... The little things won't matter anymore.

Take this kiss upon your hand, For the ones who starved themselves, Because "ugly" was written all over their mirrors, Because "fat" was the only thing in their way. Take this hug around your shoulders, For the ones who cried themselves to sleep, Because, unlike everyone else, Their pillows kept their secrets. Take this wish for your success, For the ones with wounds blanketing their wrists, Because physical pain gave feeling, And feeling was so hard to find. Take this whisper in your ear, For the ones who live through pain, Through sorrow, through regret, Through loneliness in crowded rooms, Through nightmares and judgement and hatred..

There's a story I'd like to tell, A story of a girl who was diagnosed. Diagnosed with a terrifying thing, Something that would threaten her life for years to come. Something that she could never escape, No matter how she ran, No matter how she struggled. This diagnosis was a horrific thing to the girl, Although, not surprising at all. The symptoms had swallowed her for days, Weeks, Months. Months of this thing inside of her. This thing that we call Depression. There are people who tell her, "You're only sad." However, that isn't the case. See, she was never diagnosed with sadness. Everyone knows sadness. She was never diagnosed with emo