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 Feb 2018
jewel
Have you ever held someone for the last time?

But not physically.

Have you held the thoughts, the memories, the love, the pain, the vulnerabilities, the pictures, the songs, the texts and secrets of someone for the very last time..?



I have.





Have you ever told a lie that held some truth?

But not completely mean it.

Have you ever told someone that you're okay, when you're depressed, miserable, and completely torn apart. But yet in some twisted, and sick way you are okay. Because unhappiness is all you've ever known...?



I have.






Have you ever broken someones heart?

But didn't regret it.

Have you ever put your heart on the line for someone you value above and over anyone and anything in this world, but broke your own heart in the process because what was best for them, wasn't best for you..?



I have.



Have you ever wanted to just not feel anymore?

But you're in love with pain.

Have you ever just wanted to take a bottle of pills, or walk out in front of a moving car just because, life is too hard. You don't want to be alive anymore but yet, in all the chaos, you find peace in your misery because out of everything that never stays. Out of everything that changes and altars, it's always been there for you. To wrap you up in a blanket of depression and tuck a pillow of anxiety under your head. While singing a song of your worst fears as you close your eyes and drift into a second reality filled with the monsters in your head.

I have.


Have you ever fallen in love..?

But not in reality.

Have you ever fallen in love with the imagination of something that you know you'll never reach, touch, hold, find, or ever see. Have you ever fallen in love with the pictures the demons in your head paint? Have you ever written down how you feel into a million tiny words then set fire to them and watch them go up in smoke much like your efforts, and possibly entire life..?

I have.
Just my thoughts.
I'm too fixated in each moment -
Each moment feels so intense,

I'm lost
On the dark side of the moon,
And nothing here has any warmth,
Worth or substance ~
Nothing here makes any sense.

Even my own shadow has left me.
The Monsters, still lurking
In the darkness,
Have stolen all of my hopes
And dreams away,

I can hear the wolves,
They are hauntingly howling -
There's nowhere safe that I can run to,
On this, here, dark, dreary day.

There will be no stars
To light up the pitch-black night-skies,
They have already fallen,
Just like the Angels
That I once loved and knew,

Everything that I once held onto
As sacred, has been molested -
I've been abandoned, once again;
Hell, again, I am being forced
To walk through.

Alone, I was born and raised,
Only my pain has been consistent-
It has held my hand
Throughout my entire life.

At some point, somehow,
I stupidly gave birth
To expectations,
Luckily, I woke up
And divorced reality,
Hence becoming solitude's
Dedicated and loving wife.

On the dark side of the moon
Compassion, loyalty and trust
Are nonexistent.
Evil dwells in almost every man
And woman,

Each with his or her own agenda,
Each with his or her own selfish plan.

Saviors do not exist,
Superheroes all wear masks,

Unconditional love is but an illusion,
Here, I revert to relying solely
On the harshness of reality,
For, the truth, it always exposes
And unmasks.

The dark side of the moon
Is a very lonely, isolating place,
In which to dwell,

There is no sunshine,
No stars or Angels -
The only light visible
Comes from the flames
Of the evildoers'
Raging fiery hell!

Placed here against my will,
No lush green valley in sight,

Taken away
From the divinity of nature,
I was cruelly robbed
Of my radiant life-giving daylight.

Doomed for being too real,
Too open and too honest,
Doomed for loving too much.

Doomed for believing in superheroes,
Doomed for allowing a human
To become my crutch.

Doomed for being too empathetic,
Doomed for being too sincere.

Doomed for being too kind
And too generous,
I'm doomed, abandoned here.

I blame only myself
For allowing my intuitive awareness
And intelligence to fade away
Like the stars that once adorned
Every exquisite night-sky,

I blame only myself
For not using the blessed insight
Of my third eye.

I'm too fixated in each moment,
Each moment feels so intense,

I'm too passionate about life
To give up and remain imprisoned
On the dark side of the moon...
But I'm too emotionally weak
And disappointed to jump the fence.

By Lady R.F. (C)2018
 Dec 2017
Emma
What do you see when you look in the mirror?

I am supposed to see a woman, with her head held high and shoulders back.
An object, something to admire.
Someone who has appeal, but is not too enticing or distracting.
Someone who enjoys quiet things, never yells or gets angry, and who is polite.
Who likes soft colors and never gets in the way.

****. That.

I see a beast that with pride in her step, and roars at people who confront her.
Her eyes are black slits riddled with challenge, and stares into the minds of those that are confused by her.
Her fur is not well kept out of spite or laziness, and flows in all different directions.
The bright colors shriek, "I am here. I will be seen."
Her claws are ready to protect herself from predators, who seek to destroy the mindset she is in.
  
The beast never slinks around or avoids being seen.
When she walks, she makes sure every step counts and strides forwards with confidence.
Fierce. Intimidating. Loud.

I am a woman. My roar makes the earth tremble in terror.
strength is key
 Nov 2017
D
On my own
I taught myself to believe
In everyone but myself
Until the time came I had
No choice but to see the truth
I was worthy, too

On my own
I fought to live through days
I never imagined I could escape
Thought I'd be trapped there
Reliving all the mistakes that
Led to those moments
Haven't written in over two months, nothing feels right including this but here I go.
 Oct 2017
Regina
When he climbs on top of me
I’m silenced.
Fearing if I fight
he’ll hurt me worse.
I can smell the alcohol
on his breath as he says,
“I love you,”
He puts his hands
under my shirt
and asks, “do you love me?”
I don’t reply
He puts his hand around my throat
“I said, do you love me?”
I whisper “yes”
because my life is in his hands
He says, “your body is mine, and it belongs to me”
At the sound of his zipper
my heart sinks
I know what’s about to happen
I beg him to stop,
That if he truly loves me,
He wouldn’t do this
But my words don’t mean a thing.
I try to push him off me
but he pins me down
He rips off my clothes
and I lay there as helpless as a mouse
trapped in an eagle’s grasp
With tears streaming down my face
I cry, “please stop, please stop, please stop”
But my cries go unnoticed
He spits on his hand
and forces himself inside me
I stop fighting
because I know
what’s done is done
I stare at the empty ***** bottles on the shelf
as he penetrates my body, my mind, my spirit.
 Sep 2017
Jon York
Don't just think about
the future, own it! and
if you have a dream,
make it a reality and
move forward, be inspired,
and motivate, but be sure
that you know the difference
between taking a risk and
putting yourself at risk.

Remember that power is
it's own reward, just as it
is it's own punishment and
if you pray for rain, you
must learn how to deal
with the mud.

The future belongs to the
past, and it is not about
saving the world, it's just
about doing something that
matters, and know that
everyone is capable of
greatness; they just need the
right fuel, and realize that
people aren't against you,
they are for themselves.

Don't look now, but the
future you planned for just
became the past, and you
deserve better, so don't be
just a dreamer, become a
doer, where the only direction
is forward and decide to focus
on growing, knowing that
we are just mortal beings in
an ever changing phenomenal
existence and our life would
be so empty if we had
nothing to regret.
                                Jon York    2017
 Jul 2017
Kelsey Rhoads
It's 12:40 and I can't think
It's 12:40 and I can't speak

November 14, 2016
My friend committed suicide.
He left behind his newlyborn twins.
He left behind his mother, his friends.
I'd just talked to him the day before.
He laughed, we laughed.
12:45 p.m he was pronounced dead.

I have written a song for my friend.
He committed suicide.
Not so long ago.
April 27, 2017.
7:15 pm and he was pronounced dead.
I will forever miss him.
I had just talked to him.
He tried to warn me.

May 7, 2017.
I tried to **** myself.
Went into my bathroom.
Took over 400 ibuprofen.
Was in a coma.
My little brother found me vomiting.
He's nine..

How are these true stories funny?
How do people laugh and joke about it?
Knowing that it literally ruins people's lives?

How do we socially ignore it?
Why don't we at least try to help the problem?
Why don't we talk about the things that need to be discussed?

You can make a difference.

Yeah, YOU.

YOU can start it out.

Someone makes a "joke". Call em out.

Because everyone's worth it.
These people suffered and with people still using it
as a joke while their gone is unfair and disgusting.

But that's not it. THEIR worth it. But so are YOU.
If you understand I'm sorry. Stay strong friend. Sorry I haven't been on much, it's been hard. Real hard lately losing another to suicide. Being one myself. It's hard. But I'm always here if you want to talk message me, and we will get through this together.
 Apr 2017
Aisha Ella
Deep breaths okay?
D E E P  B R E A T H S.
Turns on sink tap
Its okay, I'll just rinse it off
Then I can really see how much damage is underneath.
Holds head
Its fine, its fine, I'll take the pain killers later.
After...I'm clean again, yeah, after.
Looks at arms
Oh thank gosh! None on the arms,
I don't have to wear the long sleeves again
Starts to sway
Why am I swaying?
I've taken worse before, just a few more minutes
I can do this, deep breaths, okay?
I've got this.
Washes face and murmurs
I should leave, I really should
I don't deserve this, I can do better, I can...
Lips tremble
But maybe I can't, maybe he's right, maybe nobody can love me.
What if nobody will love me?
Stares into mirror
No, no, I won't leave, not yet.
Said it was the last time, but thats what he said the first time,
And I...
Continues washing face
No I'll stay, its okay, just a little bruising
Nothing I can't cover up.
I can do this, I can do this...
Its okay,
He Loves Me.
I've been thinking a lot on abuse in relationships and so I feel like making this a series, will explore different types and aspects of it.
 Oct 2016
storm siren
I will always be too much for some people.
I will always be too emotional.
Too affectionate.
Too clingy.
Too needy.

I will always not be enough for some people.
I don't emote enough.
I don't display enough affection.
I don't touch enough.
I don't articulate enough.

I will always be too much.
Too damaged.
Too guarded.
Too cold.
Too paranoid.

I will always be too much.
Too strong.
Too opinionated.
Too passionate.
Too forgiving.

I will always be too much for some people,
But I'd like to think that maybe
For you,
I am just enough.
It makes me wonder, really, if I'm enough for you or not. I love you, Bluebird. <3
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