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amy-harris
amy-harris
American My name is Amy, but I'd prefer you to call me Spider. I write my own poetry and short stories, hobbying in depression, sadness, self inflicted wounds, and sometimes, even a little bit of happiness. You may comment and do whatever you pleas, except, obviously, trying to steal my poems to pretend they're your own. Other than that, happy reading!
You can tell exactly how bad the night was Just by counting all the jagged red lines That cover my skin. Because that's the only way You'll know the things That I will never tell.
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
Jagged Red Lines
She's the new Peter Pan, She doesn't want to grow up, Even though, The marks on her arms, Say she already has.
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
The Peter Pan Girl
I'm supposed to be the perfect girlfriend. But my fear of turning into an adult, Is making it impossible for me to be a bit more mature. And it's really not fair. Because this fear is running my life. But not just in this aspect. I fear my own fear.
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Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 10:44 PM UTC
Fear
You made me forget, All my problems, But only for, One hour.
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Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
The Best Day
You have no idea. How much you mean to me. And every word you say. Can take my breath away. But you don't seem to realize. That there are tears forming in my eyes. Because you never seem to look.
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Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
Happy Camper
When you're so young and so small, Everyone expects you to say nothing at all. They never think that you've thought of anything less, Than a scraped knee from a minor accident. No body really knows, How much you've really grown. In your mind, you're so old. You're depression haunts, You're eyes are hollow. No one else realizes, How much pain you're in. How the scars on your body can't possibly be From any cat I've ever seen. You're living a life behind a painted mask, That only I can see beneath.
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Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 9:27 AM UTC
Painted Mask
The death of one is tragedy, but someday maybe happily I’ll pass. The difference between us acts like a cement wall holding ashes of the ****** Maybe someday happily I’ll pass. Maybe someday I’ll fall from the sky. I’d let go from anything holding me and just fall. Dead weights and dead bodies. Small Hitman for hire. Just dangling by a rope. From the closest Silver Maple. Leaves stained with blood from the wrist. Maybe passing is better than living Losing my mind. Losing my voice, I cry. Screaming in my mind. Where did you run off to, my friend? Losing my will. Losing my faith, I die. Sky turning black as night. My little friend, I’ll never see you again.
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Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
Maybe Happily I'll Pass
If only my creativity flowed like the blood in my veins. If only my life was as picture-perfect as my story characters. If only my mind wasn't fractured with depression and anxiety. If only I wasn't so paranoid. If only my friends really cared about me. If only I wasn't mentally dead. If only my only escape was a good one. If only my words made sense. If only, if only...
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Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 5:09 PM UTC
If Only
When the night fades to light, You hope that the blood dries itself up, And cleans itself up off the sheets of your sad bed. And you hope the salty tears stop Flowing down your flushed face. And that your body heals the way it should, And your mind is a much of a fresh canvas as the newly dawning day. But that will never happen.
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Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
Wishing Leads to the end.
The sirens file around these walls. Emptiness and darkness began to look the same. Walls start to blur and fade away. And suddenly I’m back at the scene of the crime. But is this really where I want to be? Do I need a real explanation? Please tell me where I need to be. Are you really here beside me? It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been waiting, but it is the worst I’ve ever had. It’s not like I can’t live without you, because I certainly can. Why does everyone keep looking down on me? Why is everything stopping? And why do you keep leaving when you know I can’t breathe? It's almost like you know.
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Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
Drowning in the Air