One that's rare. At least, to me.
It's nothing you can see
Because it's deep inside all of us
But to me, it's an absolute must
Now I don't ****** anyone
To get my kicks and my fun
I don't open them up with a slice
Because this doesn't require the taking of a life
If you wonder how I get it
Let me go on and chat-chit
I'm incapable of production of this substance
So every now and then I do my stunts and hunts
Actually my supplier kind of gives it to me
His name's David, has a PhD
He hands me the bottle of the pills
So I can take them, and get my fills
The pills are a gateway to the drug
That I lack but especially love
It takes long to kick in
But it also let's me once more grin
I'm addicted to a drug
That makes me feel snug
Its name is serotonin
And it just gets me going
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
A kid at school hung himself
After it, posters of mental health
People grieving, a wailing hell
"Oh God. I knew him so well!"
Micheal was a stranger to me
Well, not when I was a bit older than three
He seemed like such an odd kid
I didn't think something was wrong with him
He was a pretty special guy
So the question is, why?
He was special in the other way
No, not bi, trans or even gay.
Michael had downs
But it never made him frown
Everytime I saw him he smiles
And so do I, for quite a while
I can't speak for myself
I didn't really talk to him well
But it angers me quick
When they prey on the loss like ******
Kids in high school are insane
They want sympathy, even just a grain
So when they whine and cry
It makes me want to provide a black eye
Micheal had struggled to live normally
And you aren't acting quite morally
When you cry among your wolf pack
Just for a feeling of a pat on the back
And then comes the next day
It's like all of it went away
You're back to acting as usual
Odd how now no grief lies in your skull
To you, he was flavor of the day
Ate him up like crème brûlée
To me, he may have been another face
But at least it's one I dont disgrace.
**** you for making him your platform
Pretending to ******* mourn
Just so you act like you have a tough life
And get sympathy without being in strife
**** you and your hollow morals
**** you, with your fake, teary babbles
**** you and your attention-seeking sniffles
**** you for using his struggles.
**** You.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 3:44 AM UTC
A pen's inside me
Twisting and turning
Branching to the start like a tree
I'm reliving these moments, churning.
A slam of the door
To me, so much more
Your voice's inflection
Makes me full of fear and regression
I'm a VHS tape
Noise being a pen
I'm staring at the drapes
Projector in my mind, again.
It flashes what was before
And it's making me torn
But nobody else could even see
This movie theater, named PTSD
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 3:14 AM UTC
If you cry, I'll be there
Even if life is unfair
If you need guidance,
Well, you're my client
People can only take so much
And I can't help but to be the crutch
So tell me all your problems
And watch me do my best to solve 'em
But, when you look beside yourself
An assistant of your mental health
But if you look beside them
Not even a body to mutter, "Ahem"
Maybe it's not so bad
I can't understand why I'm so mad
I care about people, I really do
But why don't they, too?
It's whatever, right?
I only care about their smile, so bright
But it pains me when you give your whole to someone
And your problems don't seem to matter to no one
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
“I’m over it,”
I say through tears
Months pass bit by bit
Probably going to be years
My words betray me
I don’t say how I feel
Is this some ****** up daydream?
Is this even real?
“I’m over it,”
My heart’s not committed
My room is barely lit
Sobbing over words I submitted
If being melancholic
Was a sort of drink or mix
Then by God I’m an alcoholic
Bartender, show me your tricks
“I’m over it,”
I repeat in the mirror
I’m stuck in a pit
And you can’t make it clearer
You told me I would
Get over this cliff
Honestly I wish I could
But I keep wondering, “what if”
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 9:09 AM UTC
I locked myself in the bathroom
Pressed up against the wall
Filled with sorrow and gloom
God, I want to end it all.
I stare into the mirror
And think of what I am
If only I could see clearer
If only I wasn’t a sham
The people, they tell me
Of all the deeds I do
How I bring this glee
It doesn’t stick, not like glue
All I see in this mirror
Is a monster, what I am
The feeling, it draws nearer
Those compliments, oh man
They don’t affect me
No, not at all
I wish I was an escapee
But I’m stuck against this wall
People only love you
That much is true
But what’s a man to do
When nobody likes you?
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 5:05 AM UTC
Those three words
What do they mean?
When you said those to me
I used to gleam
Those three words
Do they reach out to you?
When I say those three
Do you also feel blue?
Those three words
How could you say it?
They used to apply
But, now they quit
Those three words
I love you
Do you mean them
Like I do?
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC