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The Rain

The rain fell, making the ground wet and pools of water fulled the floor; I tried to walk but I kept falling back, starting all over again. The rain seemed to fall for an eternity, never stopping; Some days more rain fall, making me cold and alone. After a while, I learned to live with the rain along with the cold and the feeling of always being alone. I began to become numb and stopped trying to fight the rain, letting it fall as it pleased.  I sat and pondered about the rain, wondering why it took my happiness away and fulled my life with sorrow. I know I should be happy and joyfull but How can I be when the pain is so painful? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: What does the rain mean to you? (Answer in the comments!❤️)
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Defend

It is built in our systems to fight back or to defend yourself from something and/or someone. The human body and brain try its best to fight to live and fight to protect yourself or others from harm. Its how most living things work, of course in different ways but it all comes down to protecting yourself or itself and/or others from harm. But what if the thing and/or person who is trying to harm you, is yourself? One side of your brain screaming one thing while the other another thing. Sometimes, it feels like you are fighting another you but you can't protect yourself. Yet, I understand it is just a illness in my mind and there is no 'other me' but it feels like it. It feels as if every day I fight myself to do normal things, to protect myself even though I cannot harm it. Let's say I do protect myself and I harm the thing that is attacking me. If I do this, it is harming myself and that is self-harm Let's say I have had enough and I kill it...Well, we al
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Mirror

     I wish my mirror was broken then maybe I would have a reason to look dead inside, have a reason to look as if I have just came back from the dead.       I blink looking at myself in the mirror wishing it was someone else because all I see is a broken person with scars of sorrow written in her skin. My eyes full with tears as I stare back at myself, wondering how I got here. Did I do something? Was I always meant to be broken ?       I press my hand on the mirror hoping to become on with the mirror, to never see the light of day again but all this does is make my skin bleed.       Now, My mirror is broken but I still look the same. A tear falls as I look in the mirror once again to see my eyes still dead and my soul gone just like a bird with no song left to sing.  Now, this never happened because I won't even try to look in the mirror because I know it is me who is broken, the mirror just reveals to me what everyone else sees, a person with no song left. 
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