The sad thoughts and struggles of Lily-Rose.
Not for the lighthearted.
Based on real notes.


1. Messed up notes 1

My name is Lily-Rose and these are my messed up thoughts. I've been told by my psychiatrists to write them down... These thoughts are nothing for the lighthearted. 

I'm fifteen years old and already my life is shattered. I'm broken, inside out, I'm glass splinters on the floor from what once were a beautiful antique vase. Broken. It's always a roller coaster, from one moment I'm fine, I'm happy. But suddenly sad, miserable. It feels like I'm two different people. 

I'm a complete wreck and I don't know who to turn too so I turn to myself and I keep telling myself that in the end... all of this, everything, is my fault and my fault only. 

I'm filthy, so fucking filthy and I'll do anything just to feel clean again but the filth never goes away. It never wants to leave me alone, it never disappears.  

Sometimes I don't see any reason to still be alive. That's why I hurt myself. Trying to get clean, clean out the filth and the shit that's under my skin, my blood. Big red drops that crawl underneath. I'm a champion when it comes to hurt myself and that blows. Nothing to brag about I guess.

I'm misery misery misery, I don't want to do this anymore... I don't have the strength and yet I want to continue living so bad, why do you have to feel this shitty to realize what life is worth? I need a warm embrace, someone who's always there. It's impossible and there's no help from my psychiatrists, mom, no help at all except more antidepressants and other drugs. Even though they try... I guess I'm a hopeless case. I don't want to take the medication, I don't want to be trapped inside a bubble, not knowing what's real or not. 

Back in the days I had you mom, remember when you used to call me your little princess. I was your little princess, but it was years since you called me that. What happened to us? I guess I'm not your princess anymore.

Why did it had to turn out like this Lily-Rose, why?

Don't lose hope Lily-Rose.

Maybe it will get better. It will pass eventually...

I have to go to my psychiatrists all the time and I'm not allowed to do anything. I have to stay at home, locked up in my room, eat all the disgusting meals even if I don't want to, be monitored so I don't find any new ways to hurt myself. 

They always think of the worse, I hate them.


Lily: I want to tell them.

Rose: You can't. 

Lily: Can I tell them tomorrow?

Rose: ...

Lily: Rose? Can I?

Rose: Don't push your fate Lily.


Until next time, if I'm still breathing...


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