Fayedaway

Status: I'm Working On It.
Joined: August 1, 2011
Last Seen: 5 years
Birthday: September 21
user id: 202121
Location: Nottingham, England, UK
Gender: F
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My name is Faye.

I'm 20 years young.

I'm a borderline and I'm woking on it.

 

Quotes by Fayedaway

It hurts the same when nobody knows.

So, after a good five years I've been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder.
Stop waiting for someone to come and save you.
In a world like this;
Only you can save yourself.
You may not be the model for an elvive shampoo advert, but don't give up hope "because you're worth it."
A troubled mind never truly sleeps.
A troubled mind never truly sleeps.
I by no means am the voice of reason,
I merely amplify your thoughts and feelings.
I jot them down in rythmical lines on a page,
So those who have no clue are able to engage
With what it feels like to have a head full of war,
To experience the agro of your heart and mind being torn.
So this one's for them, it goes out to you who fail to understand,
Why someone would tear, rip, burn and cut the skin above their hand.
It acts as a drug, a release, a soother, a suppressor,
The more it occurs, the more it is mistaken for as pleasure.
As with every drug, it comes with its addiction,
Even when the mind is clear, there's a crave for that burning friction.
You point people out and mock them for being a victim of themselves,
Without a sense of the stability regarding their mental health.
What if it was your sister, brother, cousin, mother or dad?
What if your mocking is responsible for some of the scars they have?
How about instead of judging you reduce their need for the knife?
Go and be a decent human, go and save a life.
They call it self-harm, because it just affects you...It's your life, your body, your sister, your parents, your friends, and your partners, so you can choose what you do, and if one day you can't rein it in and of your last breath you are the only witness, then f/uck everybody else, 'cause that ain't something that you have to live with.
People underestimate the value of dreaming, that which you aspire to provides a roof, a ceiling.
It's a skill.
To use a pen and a scrap of paper to form words or art,
To communicate messages straight from the heart,
Releasing the demons inside your head through ink and grafite,
It conveys the cause of the twisted thoughts and sheds some light,
creating a picture or a monologue of distress,
That what appears as a page full of mess,
To strangers it can look a tad obscene,
But to you it contains your nightmares and dreams,
A page filled with rubbings explains where you went wrong,
The repeated related lyrics from your favourite song,
combine it together and make a masterpiece out of corruption,
Let the emotions splurge out in a massive eruption,
They say to destroy something is to create,
So kill every thought, emotion and feeling of hate,
By writing down or drawing it to set it free,
Do it for yourself, not for your parents, lover or me,
You will murder the monsters that are in your head,
Set fire to the pages to ensure they are dead,
Only you will perceive the messages that are amongst the smoke,
But don't breathe it in, don't inhale and choke,
Just watch the pain go up in flames,
Until there's none left, just ashes as remains,
It's a skill,
To use a pen and a scrap of paper to form words or art,
To communicate messages straight from the heart.