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Musings of an Angels Mumma πŸ–€

Mummy to an Angel baby! πŸ’š A journey of soul searching and raising a baby in the cosmic cradle

Life in the Cosmic Cradle – meeting my baby !

Do babies in the cosmic cradle “google earth” their parents?

It is with the help of my own child who has yet to be born into this realm that I am writing this. 

As a young child I was identified as spiritually gifted. I could see and hear spirit, spirits of loved ones and friends who had passed through the veil, some of which died before my birth. Growing up spiritualism was a taboo subject at home and my questions and comments would simply have just been shut down. I never really knew  why no one else understood me, why people would angrily tell me to “shut it” or call me a freak but I eventually began to think there was something psychologically wrong with me. In time these experiences became lucid moments and eventually ceased, that was until I was around 12/13 years of age. When I met a very special child in spirit, this spirit visited daily and still continues to do so, the only difference being that now I understand why and it’s not all as maddening as it seems.

The child I met in a vision long ago was both a blessing and a curse. Despite being labelled psychotic and a freak by some others labelled me gifted special and a visionary. I attended my first spiritualist expo on my 18th birthday where I met hundreds of likeminded folk with similar gifts and I realised I wasn’t alone.

The child who’s gender I’m still unsure of continues to frequently visit me in visions and dreams and has recently began to show me places and things that I must see and do in my life! My little spirit baby – who for many years I nicknamed  “Blip”

In the past 18 months I’ve learned so much about my baby and recently learned the name of my “Blip”. In my dream I was taken to a Buddhist temple by Blip and shown a tree that made this crazy Bub happy and then I spent hours and days googling the significance of this tree it’s called a “Bodhi Tree” – my little Blips name is Bodhi.

Two different Clairvoyants, both of whom I have befriended, both have told me that Bodhi is going to have special needs and will be highly spiritually gifted, Bodhi is the first born of a few “enchantingly beautiful” spirit babies.

It’s truly a gift to meet your soulmate but to meet your babies years before they come down to earth is truly a miracle. This is just the first entry in a long line of musings and experience stories so watch this space 

I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for me and my  spirit family it’s just so enlightening and the Cosmic Cradle is a place I can’t wait to explore it through my children and write about what it’s like growing up on the other side of the veil.

A good friend and clairvoyant once told me that Bodhi and my other babies in spirit have been sent to me from the universe to be my saving grace. Despite the traumas that I have endured during my very short time in this realm  so far  these enchantingly beautiful spirit babies will be the ones that can save me from hell and eternal darkness they will be my saving grace! ❀️

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Fourth Letter To My Childhood Self…


Dear Little E

Well today marks 5 months clean from cutting! This is a huge milestone and I’m so proud of you for achieving this. But you’ve  certainly hands down entered the biggest battle of your life. I won’t lie to you kid it’s not going to be easy and everyday you’ll fight the urge to pick up a blade and viciously tear apart your already scarred skin. Everyday you’ll wonder if today is the day that mental illness pulls you into the abyss that you know all too well, whether it’s the day you succumb or another day you fight back!
I’ll tell you something Little E, recovery seems like a phase and relapses are frequent and inevitable and this is the only way I can make sense of it. I’ve been mentally ill for so long now that sometimes I don’t realise how bad it’s really getting anymore. Like I sit here and my anxiety is bubbling away like crazy and I’m like “this is fine”. When I’m contemplating suicide like “this is the norm”. I constantly shut down and isolate myself “how will I avoid XYZ today”. I walk around aimlessly, in a dissociated state without remembering what I’ve done that day and thinking “ooh Halloweens coming up” me it’s the beginning of February- like “for fucks sake”. This is my norm now, life as I know it and that’s why it feels like I’ll never recover.

Depression is the monster that slowly destroyed what should’ve been “the best years of your life”. A human being can survive almost anything as long as they have  the end in sight. But depression is so fucking insidious and compounds you daily, it’s impossible to ever see the end. The fog is like a cage but this insidious cage has no key, no escape and only one end. And that’s the thing about depression the unspoken words from someone who knows firsthand.

Little E the world has thrown you in at the deep end and many curveballs in the last few years, the foundations of your existence uprooted and everything turned upside down but rock bottom was the foundation upon which you have learned to rebuild your life. But my biggest fear these days is that everyone I love will eventually see me the way I see myself. 

I wish I could have taught you what I know now. But oh my god I’ll tell you something kid, it’s fucking bullshit when it’s 5am and the self loathing claws it’s way up my throats and rips itself from my mouth. In a silent scream, I’m alone, when I drove the blade across my skin and cut deeper I was alone, the only real thing is the tears flowing down my cheeks and I realise I’m alone. You often asked “what’s the scariest part?” Well the answer Little E, is not the feeling of loneliness or the never ending darkness that fills you despite the looming pain of the emptiness. But the scariest part is the realisation that you’ve lost yourself completely that sinks in as you lay awake at some ridiculous hour – you’ve lost the ability to sleep, you can’t even cry, you’ve lost the battle yet you don’t even care!

Sometimes you felt like ripping your skin apart and searching for the reason for your emptiness. Maybe your veins are tangled? Maybe something is lodged in your rib cage? Because something inside f you is missing or broken! 

Keep fighting Little E you have so much to live for, you and I share so many traits because of you I keep it all inside because I’d rather the pain destroy me than everyone else. A bird sitting on a tree is not afraid of the branch snapping because it’s trust isn’t in the branch but on its own wings. Please no matter what happens always believe in yourself and don’t let anyone take away your smile.

Today somebody asked me if I knew you, a million memories flashed through my mind that almost reduced me to tears, the what ifs, unfinished plans, abandoned dreams, the child you were and the person you never became, but I just hung my head and whispered  “I used to”

“Do you love me?” You asked and in my hesitation you found your answer because  in the end  you learned how to be strong alone and that is what will get you through kiddo, strength, courage and determination. Let no one think you gave in.

Stay strong kid

Hold On Pain Ends = HOPE
Love today, tomorrow and forever

Emmy

“Love your curves and all your edges, love your perfect imperfections”

Third Letter To My Childhood Self…


I tell people I’m tired, but in fact I’m depressed. I tell people I’ll be fine tomorrow, but I know tomorrow will only be worse. I tell lies everyday and I know one day I won’t be able to stop myself. You know exactly what you’re doing and that’s what hurt me the most.

Dear Little E,

February 6th marked the fourth month clean from cutting and this is a huge achievement. That hasn’t been an easy journey and I only wish I could’ve protected you from this hell that you found yourself in, but please understand everything happens for a reason and your illnesses don’t define you – your strength and courage does.

I only wish you didn’t have to suffer the heartache of abusive relationships at the hands of lovers with empty psychotic eyes and hearts full of lies and deceit. You suffered the biggest loss when you were just 7 years old- your brother left for good. He’s 5 years older than you! You were never told why and you spent the next 10 years blaming yourself for him leaving and that just breaks my heart. When I think of those days all I can do is cry, Do you know I still carry a photo of him holding you?Then only   last year did the biggest betrayal of your life come to light, only 3 months after your parents separated, did a psychic reveal to you that you have a (half) sister and she’s now 29! She was adopted out at birth and legally adopted at age 5. As excited as you were to finally have a big sister, you were just heartbroken that the two people who were supposed to love and protect you have just committed the ultimate (19 year long) betrayal.

Little E, I look at the innocent being you once were and I can’t help but cry. This cruel world awaited you, rigged with deceitful lovers, the abyss of mental illness, a roller coaster of emotion and shame, humiliation, and disappointments. You lost your way in the maze of life. Blades became your friend, your only escape, you lied to those who stood by you, your days revolved around forcing yourself to do the mundane domestic chores, taking pills and either sleeping all day or battling insomnia. You went to war with yourself every moment of every day and even staying alive was a constant battle. Your thighs and arms became bloodied and scarred as depression pulled you deeper into its never ending dark abyss. You became fixated on suicide and Mia’a voice eerily haunting you. Until you almost ended your life – two weeks before Christmas 2016.

You continue to think about and question your older brother Nick leaving and wonder if it’s really your fault, you wonder what life would’ve been like growing up with a big brother and having a role model, a mentor, a friend and it makes you wonder what your life would’ve been like, how different it could’ve been. But you then came to realise that you’ll never learn the truth. I haven’t heard from him since that day – at the age of 7 when I hugged him I never realised that day would be our last or that every night since then while the world is sound asleep you’d walk down memory lane with tears in your eyes and a heart that’s silently breaking. But its something I’ll never know now and can only wish that one day he’ll come home and we’ll be re united once more. I love you Nick and I wish you’d come home, reply to my message or letters or maybe even call me. 

Anyways, your family could only watch in horror as their “baby girl” became someone they never knew – a monster. They could only watch in horror as mental illness stole you from them. Your mother and new step father frantically burst through the doors of the emergency room after your mother received the dreaded call at work. Your older sister, numb with shock was sent away from the ER by your mother and broke down in her car terrified she’d lost her only sister. Your two younger brothers wondered what happened to you, asking a million questions and quizzing everyone however no one could face telling them the truth. Your new step sister voice messaging you desperately trying to make you realise you’re not alone, telling you that she’s been where you are now and to keep fighting. Your partner Sophie ended up in respite too after learning what you did. Your father hated himself for not spotting the signs before you overdosed he blames himself for being distant and not checking on you. So many people care about you Little E and I only wish you had reached out to someone before you “fatally overdosed”.

I wish I’d called one of my sisters and told her everything or spoken to my father. I wish I’d gone for a walk or run or listened to my favourite song “Lullaby”. Instead you impulsively fatally overdosed and drove yourself to the hospital. But now all I can think is What if you’d died that night? Everyone would blame themselves.. Your mother- would be eaten alive by guilt, her only daughter dead, and she never knew you were hurting this bad. Your step father- despite only knowing you for 5 months and considering you as one of his own would be lost without you around. Your sister – would be heartbroken that after 10 years of searching for you and only having 11 months to bond with you would’ve lost you forever, she’s wonder if she could’ve done anything to protect you. Your step sister- would be devastated she considers you as the little sister she never had and would blame herself for not being there more often. Your younger brothers- would forever wonder what happened to you, why you abandoned them, broke your promise and never came home. Your older brother never got chance to know you and you wonder if he’d be upset about what had happened, would he finally come home? Your father – would go to pieces, the loss of his baby daughter/second child would kill him. Your girlfriend- would lose her soulmate and wonder whether she could’ve helped you, she’d miss you more than anyone and it’d break her.

You never thought your life would turn into the nightmare that now haunts me. I know plenty of people say things are “a nightmare” – the roads are busy “it’s a nightmare!” They can’t un tie their shoelaces because it’s knotted and they’d only  just cut their nails and “it’s a nightmare too!” – it makes you realise they don’t really know an awful lot if that’s their perception of a nightmare. I too, share your childlike  reverie that one day your brother will come home and you’ll finally have the  perfect family unit you always dreamed of. People have always admired your courage and independence and You never wanted to need someone, until you met Sophie and she changed your life forever. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you guys and I have so much hope for your future.

Bye for now

Emmy


I thought I could go through life on my own but recently I’ve come to realise that even superwoman sometimes needed  supermans soul!

Another Relapse πŸ˜“


I tried so hard to get better, to overcome this, to forget it all and move on. I honestly thought I was getting to the stage of recovery where I could say “I’m feeling a lot better!”But right now – I couldn’t feel any worse!

Sometimes I find myself crying in a corner wishing to go home. Then I realise I am home but I’m not happy here. I’m so fucking homesick, but I’m homesick for a place that doesn’t even exist.

Don’t you hear them? The whispers and screams? They taunt me you know. My name echoes in my head. They tell me things like I should be locked away for no one to hear. They mock me, like when I come across a blade they scream “Cut yourself”. They make everything sound so easy but at the same time make things a thousand times more complicated.  They’re always there and they never leave. They become part of you and they are purely frightening – it’s constant torture! It’s not what they say, what they tell you to do, or the fact that they never leave that’s terrifying but the most frightening part is that the voice that’s taunting you is your own!

When you’re a cutter you have a new but very warped perspective on life. You start to notice different things, like how some people wear long sleeves and pants on the hottest days, you notice red cuts when bracelets slip down a scarred arm or vacant empty eyes when they tug away if someone grabs their wrist and you just glance around the room desperately searching for scars that match your own!

Don’t you dare tell me that I’m beautiful until you’ve seen the marks etched into my skin and the ones on the inside, on my heart that I hide. Don’t you dare tell me I’m strong until you’ve seen me break down and fall apart time and time again and cry till I have no tears left.  Don’t you dare tell me that I’m a kind/caring person until I shut you out completely and push you away because I’ve convinced myself that you’ll abandon me- just like everyone else has. Don’t you dare tell me “it’s only temporary- you can get through this” until you’ve seen my inner torment – deep in my mind and demons that refuse to be silenced.

But if you have seen that other part of me – the scars,pain, insecurities and all the bitterness I hide. The voices that whisper during the day and scream during the night. The darkness that lurks. behind my false smiles and you still stay by my side  and think that I’m beautiful and strong then maybe, just maybe I’ll believe you!

But you see the difference between us is that when you sleep or wake up your nightmares end…..

A Small Collection Of My Inspirations


As a young person who has spent more than half her life suffering from an array of mental illnesses from major depressive disorder, bulimia and BPD to extensive/chronic self harm and attempted suicide. I have started to gather a collection of inspirational quotes to add to my recovery journal that I’m going to start so I thought I’d share them with all of you. I hope with this collection that I may be able to inspire someone to join me in recovery. My series of blogs tell the tale of my life more so focusing on the last ten years. 

Here goes:

“Being weak is a choice, so is being strong” – Frank Zane

You learn the most about yourself while enduring pain 

Pain is nothing compared to what it feels like to quit

Remember the guy that gave up? Neither does anyone else 

Excuses are the nails used to build the house of failure 

Don’t play the victim play the victor 

Giving up on your recovery because of a relapse is like slashing three of your car tyres because you got a flat

Once upon a time you were a young kid with big dreams that you promised you’d make real one day – don’t disappoint yourself 

“You can’t build a reputation on what you’re going to do” – Henry Ford

“Diamonds are nothing more than chunks of coal that stuck to their jobs” – Malcolm S Forbes

“If you fell down yesterday stand up today” H G Wells

Only the biggest adversities will reveal your true self 

“Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life” J K Rowling

Don’t be ashamed of your story it will inspire someone 

You never know how strong you are till being strong is the only choice you have 

I understood myself only after I destroyed myself and only in the process of fixing myself did I know who I really am

You can’t solve a problem using the same thinking that you used to created it 

From every wound there is a scar and every scar tells a story that says I survived 

But this is my favourite and despite all of my struggles …

I will Never ever give up and I will let no one think I gave in. Once upon a time I truly believed I was put on this earth to be a role model and inspiration but in the end I just couldn’t do it. I’ve come to the realisation that depression is a prison where you are both the suffering prisoner and the cruel jailer. 

I’m learning to love the individual I’ve become because I had to fight so hard to become that person

Daddy I Will Dance Again πŸ’ƒπŸ»Β 


My friends, my lifestyle, my interests and my sanity are just a few things in a very long line of things mental illness stole from me but in the process I found out something about myself, a new skill I didn’t know I had and ultimately my passion – I can dance!

I always believed my dancing replicated that of an epileptic spider πŸ•· so when my father suggested and then took me to my first dance class in February 2016 I wanted to hide. “I can’t dance dad” I cried in horror as we walked into the class. I was speechless.. all these people could dance as I turned around I saw him leaving the room. I was horrified as I stepped on to the dance floor with the instructor that was looking after me. 

He asked me if I was alright. My knees felt like they’dcollapse under  me as they began to shake. Wondering if I was making a mistake and whether or not to run straight back through the doors I came in. “I I can’t dance!” I exclaimed. He stared at me “I bet you can” and that was it .. the dancing began.

After learning the sequence for the night the instructor looked at me. A puzzled look spread across his face “I thought you said you couldn’t dance” I looked at him “I can’t” I muttered. 

That was all it took for me to be hooked. I danced every Thursday doing the beginner class, the review and the freestyle class (3-4 hour sessions) for four months. I was training to compete in the beginner comps at the end of July (2016) unfortunately due to a string of tragic events – a broken arm, appendicitis, surgery, stomach problems and chronic undiagnosable stomach problems followed by a bout of chronic depression and my mental health hitting an all time low I stopped dancing.

Today on Thursday January 12 2017 surrounded by some old and even new dancing buddies, I laced my ballet slippers and stepped out onto the dance floor for he first time in 6 months and danced my heart out all night long. It felt amazing to be able to dance again and it’s such a therapeutic thing to do. I’m re training to compete in the beginners comps in March for 2017. Nothing will stand in the way of that. My father spent months asking me whether I’d abandoned my dancing to which I spent months promising him that I would eventually.  Today I looked at him, saw the look of pride on his face (for the first time since my OD in December 2016) as I stood up, looked him in the eye and with a smile as I laced my ballet shoes “Today’s the day” I thought as I said “Daddy I will dance again”

A Battle Within MyselfΒ 


What screwed me up most in life was the picture in my head of how it was supposed to be. They say “Tomorrow will be a better day, never lose hope” but lately I’ve come to the conclusion that hope is dangerous – it can drive a man insane. The minute you think about giving up, think about why you held on for so long. But please, promise me if I can’t do it anymore let nobody think I gave in. I wrote the following poem a couple of months ago 

A Battle Within Myself”

Have you ever sat up at night to let your barrier down brick by brick? I sat in the silence, the darkness and I cried too many times. I let their words destroy me and let it all ultimately defeat me, made me think I was worthless. I let the burden of their words, of my thoughts get to me. I regret it. I’ve got the scars that remind me. I regret that I let my family and friends down while drowning in pain. All because I let my anxiety and their wretchedness get me, I let it control me, the pain, the pleasure. I was merciless at their hands – it makes me  cringe. The memories so overwhelm and overtake me sometimes. Though sometimes I unwillingly go back to the feelings that cause my blood to run cold. Sometimes I reminisce and hear voices saying “I’m not good enough”  and I eventually decided I’m probably not. It wasn’t fair I began to care and realised I have fought too hard against them and ultimately lost the battle within myself.


The photo attached is of my tattoo which I got as a tribute to my best friend Michael who I’ve known since the day I was born, committed suicide two and a half years ago – it’s his butterfly πŸ¦‹Ever since his death we’ve associated the monarch butterfly as a symbol of him in spirit. This was my first tattoo (I got it in December 2015) and a month later I went under the needle again and got the word ‘Courage’ tattooed under my butterfly.  This holds a lot of significance to me now. I’ve battled through numerous mental illnesses including two suicide attempts which have been the main reason for starting writing these blogs. Physical health problems ranging from rare disease Tuberous Sclerosis Complex, appendix surgery and chronic stomach erosion.

Courage it’s also part of the military motto. I’m the son of an ex soldier and I spent 4 years in the military cadets – aspiring to follow in my fathers footsteps. But at 16 and a half I was permanently medically disqualified for service. Depression kicked in and my life was on the downward spiral. 

So I think the word and tattoo courage is so appropriate. I may have been weak enough to cut, give up or attempt suicide but I was strong enough to survive those days because it takes more courage to suffer than it does to die. But what is courage? Courage is being scared to death but saddling up to the challenge anyway.

Dying For PerfectionΒ 

Welcome to my nightmarish reality life with BPD and BULIMIA following attempted suicide


Once upon a time there was a high achieving individual who was striving for perfection. Who binged/purged, cut themself and cried every night.  wished things would get better but they never did. The individual never got the “happy ending”, that one is me! I destroyed my body for the peace of mind I never got.

I can’t escape my thoughts, do you know what it’s like to be tortured by your own mind? Sometimes I don’t want to wake up because for so long everydays been the same and I’ve been waiting for so long for things to change. Only 5 years ago I never would’ve expected my life to have turned out like this.. but oh my god I’m so freaking sick of apologising to everyone when I’m the one collapsed on the floor with tears tumbling down my face and fighting the urge to end it all, to take my own life. 

Once you’re caught in Mia’a grasp it’s a vicious cycle, it’s a horrific place to be stuck in. It starts with something that “triggers” you, then you get the craving urges. After that you begin to binge which ultimately leads to purging to avoid the dreaded weight gain, but the binge/purge leads to feelings of shame and disgust so then you begin restricting or strict diet and exercise regimes which leads to tension and the process begins again. Though they say a flower can’t grow without a little rain, I’ve come to the conclusion that despite that theory- isn’t it also true that too much rain kills the flower?

Purging is like a drug, trust me it really isn’t nice to purge. It feels awful but it slowly becomes addictive. The illusion of safety, the idea that you can go back in time, control your body and do what no one else would dare to do. But after purging the nasty feeling consumes you – the shaking hands, light headed, dizziness, tiredness, feeling exhausted, the stench of vomit on your breath, swollen cheeks, your eyes cry involuntarily as you sit on the floor hunched over the toilet. Like I said Purging is like a drug. It makes you think you like it ,while it slowly consumes you. What you purge, purges you. You lose control, you lose yourself, you become addicted, you destroy yourself but worst of all – you don’t even notice! Until it’s too late and the damage has been done.

When I was younger and first learned about suicide I was utterly shocked. I couldn’t understand how anyone could be so tortured that they’d contemplate or even attempt to end their life. All I can say now is – isn’t it funny how fast things can change? On impulse I swallowed two bottles of benzodiazepines, I spent many nights alone cutting my arms and thighs deeper and deeper. I either binge till I purge or I starve myself, sleep for 16 hours or have insomniac nights, fall in love hard or hate with a passion. Fire words of hate – telling you I hate you or to go or be in love and begging you not to leave me. I don’t know what grey is but to tell you the truth- I never did!

Dying to be pretty became a disease, I was slowly killing my self just dying to fit in. Nowadays my recovery is just one big “I’ll try harder/I’ll try again tomorrow”. If you give up on me, I’ll give up on me too. But for now I’m not totally useless – I can always be used as  the demonstration of a bad example.

Nightmares of Lovers Past πŸ’”

**TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ **

Mentions domestic violence, abuse, gang and rape!

Your eyes watch me from within my dreams. Haunting me mercilessly, melting my being. Your silhouette piercing the darkness as I close my eyes once again. I’m forced to remember the pain that’s driving me so insane. Now all the time I seem to lose control, I can’t tell reality from fantasy. Intoxicated by your lies that still wake me up in the dead of night. This so called love was lost before it begun. You, the torturer,the ghost haunting me, wounding me and torturing my broken soul. Now all I can say is hopefully my screams will wake you from your dreams.

Many years ago I was trapped in an abusive relationship. I was almost 16 and he was going on 19. I was young, I was naive and I believed that he loved me and that I could save him from this life. He was in a gang – but they abused him, threatened and beat him. He took his anger, frustration and pain out on me. He would smoke and drink excessively that he became violent – beating me black and blue, threatening to hurt or kill me/my family if I didn’t give him what he wanted (sex, money ect) or do as he asked, he would run up huge bills he couldn’t afford, rob houses/shops ect – he even raped me! Not only was he physically abusive but emotionally too – he made me feel inferior, useless and unattractive among other things. But like many victims of domestic violence I felt trapped, scared to leave or seek help. But at the same time I was convinced that he loved me and I hated the gang beatings and how they treated him. I hoped to hell someone would be a hero and save him, but watched as they all walked away.

To this day I know I’ll have nightmares forever as regrets still haunt my hollow head as I sit here and scream “who the hell gave you the right?”. I have one message for all of you who put your two cents worth in over the years – Don’t you dare tell me it’s easy to leave an abusive relationship when you’ve never been in one! Β When I was with my now ex boyfriend I wrote this song for him it was pretty raw for me and expressed my emotion towards him. I was 15 when I wrote this and here it is:

INNOCENT <<
picks up a knife he just wants to end his life. Everyday is a battle causing scars the way out seems so far. Nobody knows he's abused and scared he lives each day in total fear. Everybody seems to stare, why can't they see that something's wrong? Maybe it's been going on too long. Nobody saw the wrong he's been suffering too long.

People think he's strong so he just plays along. Scars curl round his wrists it's a fucking gruesome twist, it's worse than a voodoo spell and now he'd rather go to hell. He won't let you see him cry or scream he's just a one man team. Who gave them the right? Cos ..

Chorus: A million tears remain unseen with all the bullshit in between. They’re treating him like shit and nobody seems to care a bit. This has made him go insane I now know he’ll never be the same. He doesn’t wanna live anymore he’s been shaken to his core. He gets beaten till he’s destroyed he’s just an innocent young boy. His world is turned to black he’s innocent, innocent *

His morbid silence is the loudest scream they like violence as a team. A burning lighter on his shaking hand and nobody even gave a damn. The flames they burn his flesh the blood stains are all fresh. He never wanted this strife now his best friend is a knife. How did he manage to fuck up his life?

Chorus *<<
won't admit that he's in pain he wished someone would realise it's all a game. Among all of his tears are his deepest darkest fears. I can see the "save me" in his eyes and I can feel the pain within his cries. What gives them the right? Why do they force him to fight? They bruise his skin with shattering blows beating him senseless not even he knows. What has he done tonight to deserve those black eyes?

He became a victim to their abuse now he has no excuse when he met a tortured girl who had those kind of scars as well he then realised he wasn't alone anymore he found a reason to keep fighting for

Chorus*<<
stood outside her window on a dark rainy night. But he wasn't alright the crashing gave me a fright . I had become his obsession when he put his knife in my possession because he is just 18 there's only one place he wants to be.

We've seen him in a state he knows death is now a big mistake a family he will one day create. He will stand with his little boy and tell him it's a weapon not a toy.

Chorus<<
apons are not a toy you're an innocent young boy. It's a weapon not a toy you stupid little boy

Memories of his strife the images of the knife that almost took his life. Looking back through their dark morbid lives as memories fade into the night, behind their empty psychotic eyes.

The end*

I'm now no longer ashamed of my story, I'm hoping it will inspire others to ultimately break the silence for once upon a time I was the one that loved him even after the cheatings and the beatings! πŸ–€πŸ’”

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