Emma Sinclair
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Thoughts

Written Instead of Self Harm

They haunt me, telling me I'm not good enough. Telling me that I'm not wanted, that I won't be missed.

I haven't scarred my arms so far this year, but the voice is there taunting me.

I find it so hard not to give in to the thoughts. I don't want to die, but I'm suicidal.

I want to leave and run far away, far away from my problems. Just like I've always done.

I'm not wanted here, I'm just a burden, a failure ... unwanted treasure.

I am wanted elsewhere, though. My voices are Wrong. I am Loved. I am Wanted. I belong alive. I shouldn't die, but I want to.

At least in death I can't fail, although I'd fail at life. I have dreams, I want my own family, I want children, I want a husband, I want a life.

I wish the voices would go away, I don't want them to stay. I haven't cut since last year. I've been happy, and yet I feel so far away.

I promise I will never end it, I am afraid of never seeing those dreams.

I am afraid of the pain of death.

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