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a poem for the hurt and unwantedyou just want to
no one truly wants me
waste of space
out of place
no one to care
to hold me on my down days
mentally suffocating me
strangling my emotions
my eyes red with tears dripping like
mentality of an adult
face of a fat baby
too many for one
but handled easily
acting with ease
fooling the unknowing
i'm too much to love but
yet better than most
psychological observation from
the age of four
making my loneliness
craving the love i had
that almost killed me
then red and clear tears would fall
because of the lonely heart
sick of trying
sick of fate
sick of time
little blue bird.i wish i could feel again that something that made every day worth waking up to.
someone to wake up to .
someone to live for .
someone i'd have to express these trapped feelings to.
But don't we all ?
am i just being selfish again ?
my tears fall,
my head pounds ,
it's all behind the depth of these lonely eyes.
stare into my eyes and feel my sadness.
unlock the cage and set my emotion-bird free without a care.
i overeact and don't act.
cause i am trapped .
trapped within my cage .
the strong gold bars holding me inside as
i sing my songs .
A long time , little left.attention.
The sweetness of a bitter girl.
the innocence of the wrong doing.
the deterioration of sanity and happiness.
convinced into make-believe.
A mask rotting from false happiness.
The depth of thought.
The hands of a creator,
a mind of another dimension.
A deteriorating girl
with a cracked mask.
Dont Forget Me.You were with me, this time last year.
I had warmth in my heart
and a smile to my face.
Now you've moved on, I regret not being
perfect-you said it wasn't me,
but yet, I still regret and blame myself.
Time is just one thing, andI was willing to
wait, but it saddens me so that now it's
just too late.
My time is over; I am but the old,the past,
but the feelings remain.
I feel for you as you feel for me,
but obviously my feelings are
strong, like the wood on that
Each branch a different story.
When I cried, you felt my pain.
Do you feel it now?
Am I the one to blame?
If i had to choose between the
physical pain of a nerve dying
that you helped me through,
I'd say THIS pain is MUCH
I may have cried for hours then,
but now, I feel like crying
with no end.
Before it was the nerve dying,..
now it's my emotions.
I feel empty.
The past replays in my mind and
I remember being my happiest,
now thats been taken from
and all remain are fake smiles
and real frowns.
LOVE-To give and recieve..If you have love,
love him/her til your lives end,
because some want love,
they want to relive what they had;
the feeling of being wanted,
the warmth in your heart.
i wish i had it again...
trapped.i dont know what to do,
i dont know who to go to.
im sat alone torturing myself with my emotions.
i cry and i want to scream.
its all built up.
but i dont know why...
i feel trapped,
screaming in my head.
i tear myself apart by playing with my negative emotions.
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
Your eyes...Your eyes...
All the truth no lies
wanting to tell your story
But all tucked up inside...
The am mount of tears
That have left your eyes fall to the ground
As you say that your fine...
The words you speak
That are not always what you truly feel inside
but true feeling ain't meant to hide...
The emotions you put forward from your soul
Sometimes show on the outside...
All the stress and pain shines through your eyes
Being able to understand is the main part that never dies!...
Looking into your eyes to get to your soul to see what's been hiding behind them doors for a little while.... your eyes....
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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