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UntitledWords slip from my fingertips
The day seems dark
A contrast of nightlights
The light chill
from something all to mechanical
The low hum spreading slowly
Head aches creating a dull throb
The music of happier days
dims to a slow mix of quiet singing
Sugary soda chilling me
From the inside
As I wait
for what I don't truly
expect to come
As time passes
My mind fills it self with reminders
Of whats to come
what is due
what I need to do
what I cant bring myself to do
Tiredness over runs
despite proper sleep
As I cover myself
from the midday lights
and hide away
in my dark mess of a room.
MarionetteDisappear into there own lives, its a natural thing.
I will always remain, wondering the purpose.
Brought down by forces, mentality becoming downfall.
Falling apart again, the purpose unknown and unexplained.
Feeling alone makes no sense, they surround and disappear.
Breathing is hard, the air runs smooth through.
A puppet on a string, marionette is the new way of life.
I don't know.I cant breath
and Weak legs
down to my knees
through an endless haze
such a heavy pressure
pushing on me
weighting my chest
as my mind reels
as air escapes me once more
Creative InsomniaThrough a sleepless night
and musical inspiration
An insanity temporary
interpreted into creativity
what a live mind
had before itself
and could not reach
brought to light
through drooping eyes
and shaky hands
a head lulling
back and forth to a beat
creating such beauty
as words form lines
pages fill with color
not so coherent
becomes a mindset
as the hour fade
into the lights of day
and your masterpiece
finished as it will be
leads you into
a long awaited
and well needed
to the temporary
with a simple days rest.
Some nightsSome nights,
my mind begins to wander
Stretches of the future,
and past times that I ponder.
alone in a nights peace
I hope for princess stories
like beauty and the beast.
A love everlasting
I hope my future may hold
A lover with open arms
to take me in from the cold.
As I sit alone
on these empty nights
I imagine my lover
not a superhero in tights
but a normal person
with a hand outstretched
and a space in their heart
because I wasn't there just yet.
Mask of Smiles.I reach out to touch my future.
An inevitability that I cannot bear.
Hiding in the shadow of my past.
A perfect little girl I was.
Molded into a beaten new form.
Evolved into a drained being.
Though, my youth is still strongly intact.
I can't hold my head up.
Lately, the sinking feeling,
It comes harder and with more force.
The words sprayed drip with raw emotion.
My lungs have become filled.
I can't bear to awaken with the world.
I lie in velvet darkness.
Awoken for dinner.
Awake for the suns departure.
Asleep for the new days arrival.
All the while confined in myself.
Between for walls that have become my hiding place.
Air rolling in through a machine
in the only window,
blocking almost all natural light
that wishes to invade.
Praying for the summer to never end.
I can't fathom the weight school always brings.
I don't want to see anyone.
I don't want them to see me.
As the work piles up,
and nothing makes sense anymore,
the streaks of liquid stain my face.
Always in private.
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.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stop
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
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
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
specter boys have always looked best sinkinghe says,
i want to count all 206 &
feel the notches of your ribs -
i want you, weary boy, to
phase yourself down while
you are burning inside out.
i will seethe inside your skull
like thoughts, like cigarette filters;
you will thank me as i molder in your marrow.
These Faded KeysOf all the keys I click
As we speak each day,
It's the back arrow
That's faded most
These white letters
Would surely tell you,
I reply to everything -
But the key reading "enter"
Will be the one to explain
Why it still looks new
I want you to know
Just how much I care,
But I don't want to be close
Out of the fear of losing you
But please remember:
I dedicate these words to you,
Sharing them to the world
Rather than clicking away
At the faded key ~
Last HopeWhy am I doing this again?
I always do.
Why do I try anymore?
It'll happen again.
What am I doing?
Everything's a mess!
Is it selfish for me to wish the world would end?
I'm going to fail.
It's inevitable now.
Why do I keep trying?
How do I keep going?
I wish someone would save me.
That's not how the world works though.
Will light ever shine in my world?
I don't think it can.
I won't let it.
I bring it upon myself.
Why do I keep this up?
What is the point of me existing?
I'm always the third wheel anyway.
Who'd even miss me that much.
I'm not trying to get attention.
I'm not trying to make excuses.
I'm not trying to take it to far.
But it happens anyway.
There's no escape.
I dug my grave.
With my bare hands, I have been digging for years.
I don't want pity.
I want people to hear me.
I want others to have hope and feel good.
I want something selfish as well.
I want someone to be there with me.
I want someone to automatically be with me like all my friends have.
Someone who wil
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