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Hell is
staring in your eyes and instantly missing you
Hell is
looking at your lips and wanting to kiss you
Hell is
holding you closely and having to let go
Hell is
wanting to tell you but never letting you know
Hell is
butterflies in my stomach when your hands brush against mine
Hell is
wanting to hold them for the rest of time
Hell is
knowing that someday I'll have to let go
Hell is
constantly having to put on a show
Hell is
the hurt I feel deep in my bones
Hell is
loving you in my sleep and waking up alone.
Reposting this because it was my very first post on here.
.
You come around
And make me feel,
Like I don't want to feel,
As if the only way is your way,
What am I to think?  How can I heal?
Are all majestic colours impishly yours?
I walk alone on glare streets of harsh silence,
In rushing crowds of coldness, darkest and deep
Loneliness, you have made mourn of sun
My punisher, you have stolen music
Out from under my fumble hands,
Your eyes are like confusion,
My heart has nil defense,
I wait for you to let me go,
My hopeless prayer,
But I am undone
No, I never will
Be known, nor
Your only
One.
 Sep 2014 20something
oh me oh my
you listen.

when he tells you
you
are
worthless.

when he tells you
you'll
never
be
anything.

when he tells you
it's
always
your
fault.

when he tells you
you
aren't
good
enough.

you listen.
because im your father, and you have to respect your parents. you're just 16, you don't know anything. you won't succeed, you'll be just like your druggy brother, your other drop out brother. you're just like my bipolar ex fiance, that's the kind of stuff she would pull, you know better. you don't need that medicine, just get over it. you're going to hell for believing in that, you don't know any better, you're just 16. you are so disrespectful to sit there and talk back to me. you're wrong, wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong, im always right, you're only 16, you don't know anything. youll grow out of it, you need to do better, you need to try harder, you'll never amount to anything. you need to stop, you need to listen, you need to think. why are you crying because i raised my voice to get my point across, you weren't listening, you should've known better, you need to hear the truth. you need to get your act together, you're 16. you don't need to say things like that, you don't need to go there, you can tell them you can't go, you're only 16.
This feeling is too big for my body to hold
so lend me your arms for me to unfold.
 Sep 2014 20something
aphrodite
You drink about it.
       You smoke about it.
              You **** about it.
                      You cut about it.
                           You sleep about it.
                                 You stopped sleeping about it
                                       You stopped eating about it.
                                            You keep eating about it.
                                                You swallow pills about it.
                                                      You punch walls about it.
                                                           You kick cans about it.
                                                             ­   You spit about it.
                                                             ­        You write about it.
                                                             ­          You cry about it.

                                                            ­            But you won't talk about it.

                                                            ­ You won't pray about it.
                                                      You won't seek help about it.
                                                 You won't reach out about it.
                                            You won't tell your father about it.
                                      You won't tell your lover about it.
                                  You won't meditate about it.
                           You won't medicate about it.
                    You won't preach about it.
             You won't advocate about it.

       You're killing yourself over it,
but perhaps it's time you start saving yourself from it.
What is your "it"?
I've bolded what I find to be healthier alternatives for coping, opposed to the common and harmful ways of coping that are italicized.
This poem is very personal & I hope you learn to cope the best way you can.
**
 Sep 2014 20something
WickedHope
Don't get my hopes up,
To let me fall.
Try to protect my feelings,
Like you care at all.
I hate a liar.
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