IM FINE I'm not fine please help me IM JUST TIRED i cant take this anymore I ALREADY ATE i starve myself GO AWAY please stay IM JUST COLD i dont want you to see my scars IM OK DONT WORRY i just want to die
yes I'm FINE Freaked out Insecure Nervous Emotional
sometimes i push people away to see who cares enough to stay
I'm very good with numbers; Always been inside my brain They freely shift and move about; Allowed to dance and play However, one equation baffles and confuses me That one plus one will equaltwo; This is not what I see
It'speoplewho must be confused; Wrong value they give "one" Because the single integer alone can't have much fun It's only with another"one"first one will come to life With purpose, reason, starts to smile; Now feeling satisfied
The presence of the second one gives first one happiness When one is standing all alonelife has not much to give Can not survive a vacuum; It is dark and empty space No digit there to interact; One's value just a waste
Some people disagree with me; Say one is fine alone And doesn'tneedanother onefor value to be shown I don't completely disagree but my experience That I feel most fulfilled with life when I receive and give
The elegance of the exchange; Wheremiraclesexist Life's greatest gift is that of lovebut with it there's onetwist How it takestwo to tango; Love is not a solo dance To give another all your heart is taking a big chance
But can't compare reward to risk; The blissfulecstasy Cause "one" is more like just a halfbut withloveit'scomplete
Got to your room Close the door Lay on your bed Listen to music Close your eyes 1, 2, 3,
Breathe, Breathe, Breathe, 1,2,3, Hand on your heart Hear her bumping to the music Let the day just sink into your bed Listen to the music, ignore the tears 1,2,3 Breathe,breathe, Thinks only good things No drugs. . . No c U T I N T...
What happen has happened. Just breathe to your Beating heart. Don’t move Keep your hands on top of your heart, because that littlest heart is called purpose. It what keep you alive
With its stillness and constellations Your silence is that of a star As remote and candid I like for you to be still It is as though you are absent Distant and full of sorrow So you would've died One word then, One smile is enough And I'm happy; Happy that it's not true
She hides behind closed ears and doors Not wanting anyone to see or hear, her hit rock bottom. Completely helpless in her journey to find happiness once more Blinded by her selfishness and despair she shed blood here and there. watching it pour like a waterfall in the spring. Surrounding every inch of the floor. Slowly but surely fading into darkness. Down, Down, Down.
The night seems delicious, Glazed with chocolaty darkness Embellish with starry star Resonance of laughter Vibrations of delirium Scent of seduction Intoxication filling up Enthusiasm circulating around Quintessential it truly is
it’s a beautiful thing this day and age with bubbling permafrost with drug-resistance with obesity treatments with technological advancements with scientific discoveries with silent wars with blue lava with bleeding glaciers with divorce with sensitivity with my generation of people believing this new generation is completely and utterly clueless as a common occurrence
but let’s think about what these kids are into nowadays.
let’s think about who invented these inane things for the kids.
my generation of people.
so the kids of today are the ones who are ****** for liking the things that we’ve created?
I’m sorry but we have to be the ones who are obtuse for believing such things, oblivious for not realizing them and showing the world we have little or no imagination anymore.
the generation before us has lied to us and thought us to lie to the generation after.
whether it’s the gods or holidays or what not.
the youth of the today are autonomous. they can not take responsibility for their actions nor do they understand and just go along with the trends, much like, all the generations before them but we need a scapegoat to cover up our own farce implementations.
the truth of the matter is.. we’re all a little vacuous in our own way especially the ones with an answer for everything. living in an imperfect world where there’s always room for improvement nothing for us or against us wrapped up in our congratulatory self-contradictory and illogical theories and as useless as exploding appendix.
the lost generation the interbellum generation the silent generation the baby boomers generation x the millennials
a strong admixture of imbecility and self-assurance filled with belief and unawareness to a senseless world
like hate like blame like gossip like jealousy like being offended like being impressive like the punk rock dream like hospital waiting rooms like fundraisers and charity events like your co-worker to the right and the left of you and their families and their families before them
I’m being wished a “happy world poetry day” and I just wish to correct the calendar. As Poetry day is your birthday, it’s Valentines Day, it’s the day you came into my life. Darling, I’ve been a writer my whole life, but you, you made me a poet.
You’re almost there You’re almost pretty enough Almost funny enough Almost lovable enough But Not quite Keep working Keep selling your soul Keep running till you can’t stand And maybe Just maybe You’ll get there
He gripped the lever on his mechanism and flipped through the pages of time.
Everything he saw happened in the span of seconds. Time was relative when empires fell.
There were wars built of flame and desperation. Civilizations rose from ashes. Sand covered statues went undiscovered. And history seemed written only partially known. The man he left it all behind, for the sake of seeking knowledge of the gods. He saw great crowds of people, starving in the streets. He saw them fighting and loving, at the same time. For there is no good where bad does not exist. The man he left it all behind, in search of something better. But time is neither good nor bad. It simply only is.
Perhaps he learned this lesson yet. Perhaps he never did. Perhaps he's still lost somewhere and nowhere all at once.
I love him I tell myself I know that We will be together forever I don’t believe that We could be separated My thoughts tell me that He’s the love of my life Sometimes my heart lies and says I could live an eternity Without him Like my friends say “We’re perfect for each other” And you can’t tell me He’s not the one.
I know I won't get to all but ******, I'm gonna try thumb up to every comment up until the day I die
I can't react to every line and word but ****** I can try thumbs up to ever poet/poetess maybe no one has, to cry
I'm just a singularity but ****** all too **** we, as a community stand up, and hear the yell
I'm not you, and you're not me but when you see thumbs down chime in with words and thumbs chase the trolls, outta HP town
Thumbs down has no other purpose that to provide trolls with a mechanism to pester and put forth their hate. REMOVE it! You can't control how many accounts people have here (it's not realistic to assume you can) so remove their reason for creating them! Nothing really left to say :(
Thank you my friends for the daily, I feel undeserving, but extremely, appreciative! :) (bow)
I wasn't born With this hole in my heart But it developed gradually When pain drilled my chest to cling it's art. Oh! I was smiling radiating the usual rainbow colours! But just then, I was grayed and torn Just like withered flowers! The pain! Yes the pain Is unbearable My tears all are in vain They are just emotional fool , being unstoppable! I am fed up of emotional breakdown My soul became mournful, being lost in the ghost town! I know, sorrows are part of life But how can I frequently bear the pain that cut deeper than the knife! I try my best to just forget and move on But what shall I do when I am trapped in the useless emotion?
Just in a process of getting relieve from the feeling of being hurt! It's really difficult... Sorry,my poem sounded somewhat boring but I really meant what I said .
i dread the day you learn for the first time that you can't just love all the darkness in me away
and no matter how much you care i will still toss and turn at night and scars might still appear on my skin
i dread the day you realize that you can't cure me and sometimes all you can do is stand next to me and hold my hand through fog pouring out of my ears so black and thick we can't even see each other's faces
i dread the days i can't get out of bed the days you want to take me out and all i can manage is a prettified shell of myself
i dread the day you learn that sometimes no matter how hard i try i still can't pull myself together
the day you learn that there isn't an answer you can give that will save me from my fears
you aren't the first person who has tried to love the darkness inside away my family and friends have given it their all but someday you too will learn that if love could cure mental illness the world would be a much better place
Paint me a picture Of your skin Does it bronze beneath the sun? Or sizzle and blush Like your cheeks When you’re in love? Is it soft to the touch Like when your palms graze The smooth surface of water? Or rough around the edges Like your favorite book And its lovingly worn corners? Does it melt in the heat Like sweet syrupy treats Dripping through your fingers? Or does it welcome the winter With wide open arms As if greeting a lover? Paint me a picture Of your skin