You stopped reading my poetry, so I decided to stop writing you poems. All you gave me were rocks to fill my pockets, although the weight kept me grounded for a while. After all, I was constantly drifting away.
I told you I was afraid of the dark so you made sure to keep my life bright.
Then you left.
Lights out.
You never noticed that even 6 months after our break up you're pictures so hung on my wall. Memories are of you are like horror movies and love stories bleeding on my carpet. You made me believe I was making something out of nothing. But before I could blink you disappeared. I begged you to stay but you shut the door in my face. No matter how hard I pushed you wouldn't open the ******* door. I didnt want to go anywhere else because you're the only home I've ever known. So what was I supposed to do when you locked the ******* door? Where do I go when "home" doesn't want me anymore? Broken and scared, I built myself a shelter out of sticks and drug addicts. Now that's where I stay. You swallowed the words "I love you" rather than feeling them get caught in your throat like blood filling up your lungs. Trust me when I say I can't get the words off my ******* tounge. Of all the things I've left unsaid, I just wanted to scream, choose me. Choose the girl who loves you more than herself. Choose me, because of all the people in the past, future and present, I would still choose you. I wanted to beg, whatever you do, just don't leave me the way my father did. But you are long gone and I'm left to wonder why. Why didn't you choose me? I thought it was clear you should choose the girl with 7 knives sticking out of her chest, still fighting. Why wouldn't you choose the girl crying on her knees, begging, DON'T LEAVE. But I don't blame you for choosing the ocean. After all, who wouldn't? I'm a ***** puddle a dog wouldn't even drink from. The walls even started talking to me. Every night whispering "what if". I thought I would be devastated when you left. And I was. For months and months and months. I was a ******* disaster. Leaving pieces of my heart everywhere I went in an attempt to leave you in the past. Yet I just lost more of myself rather than you. Some nights you still coat my pillow in tears. Yet I'm thankful that some day I might forget the sound of your voice, I'll still remember the way you held me as I cried while I opened up about my **** I'll still remember walks through the park and making love beneath the trees... My memories of you are warm like fire, like growth, evolution, the way nature will keep existing long after our love dies out. I always begged for you to worry about me, to wonder why I was drifting away. But when you didn't fight for me, I started using my own fists. Now I'm coping with the reality that our hearts don't stop beating even when our lovers have stopped giving us reasons to live. I know this is over. I won't beg you to come back, because I know- I already know. This won't last. But all I needed was for you to act like every thing was okay, until I could learn how to live when everything isn't. I still miss you, and oh god, the way our legs tangled together under the covers, my head on your chest. But lately I've been crying when I think of the way you touched me because your touching someone else.
So if you are trying to read between the lines of my poetry, if you are finally wondering how I'm doing:
I'm learning to live without you. Most nights my heart aches. Sometime I think I should have crashed my car the night I was driving alone. But the truth is, I seen the brightest of days with you. And with a little patients, I'll see bright days again. When it comes down to it, I will be okay. I will be more than okay. With or without you.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 7:31 AM UTC
You need to understand that no matter how beautifully the poem is written, no matter how relatable those black and white letters are; every word I've ever put on paper has been a product of mental illness. I don't care how deep it sinks into your chest, how long it resonates on your brain or how amazing it is that I have somehow put every unspoken thought you've ever had into 6 small words. Not once have I created a poem while thinking, "This one will surely paint a glorified picture of self harm, drug addictions, rehab visits, repeated rapes, abusive boyfriends and five years of therapy into the readers mind." Never would I write with such intention and never should my words be read for such a purpose. If you are searching for poems with glitter masking the truth, you have come to the wrong place. So if you have the guts to read my poetry, then I dare you to have the guts to read with the same pain it was written with. I refuse to write with raw, bold, and honest words only to wrap a pink ribbon over the bloodshed just to earn the title "tragically beautiful." The words I spill out come from a dark world. Admire them in purest form, ugly and appalling to the eyes. Why would you want to romanticize the filth that I pour from my mentally ill mind?
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
She changes her mind like the weather.
One moment shes a flower blooming in May but with the flip of a switch
shes a cold January blizzard.
Its already December.
Shes disappointed with the lack of snow this year,
as her hearts been stuck in a dull winter.
With wide blue eyes full of fear
she's waiting for death to kiss her.
Spring flowers have been long dead,
Now shes eager for the return of death.
Maybe he took the wrong turn?
He seems to be running late.
For now she's making snow angels out of wilted petals,
patiently awaiting her fate.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
I'm worth something, I just don't know what. I matter to somebody, I just don't know who. I am alive for a reason, I just don't know why. I can beat this depression, I just don't know how. I will see brighter days, I just don't know when.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 5:16 AM UTC
No roof to find shelter under, no umbrella to keep dry, no gentle arms to fall into; I learned at an early age to dance during tornados, to laugh in pouring rain with lighting nearly striking my feet, and to find beauty in bruises from being stranded in hail storms. The weather was always bad, but I embraced it. Maybe it's begun to pay off, because for the first time in forever
I think I see the sun.
Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
He didn't grow angel wings and go to heaven. He put on an astronaut helmet and found peace in the stars. A tiny soul floating through the galaxies, just waiting for mommy to join him. His dreams were to big for this planet. Curiosity, love, adventure, and fearlessness. He was soaked in those traits as he grew in my womb. The unknown was calling and I don't blame him for answering. He was concieved by two souls who desperatly wanted more than life can offer. We created something too beautiful for human form. All I can do is hope that the night sky is full of kindness. It brings peace to know he left this earth knowing nothing of pain. An artist like his mother, I know my son is painting constelations in the sky and sprinkling stardust over my head. One day I'll have the guts to put on a helmet of my own, and he can show me the universe through his eyes, resting in my arms for eternity.
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
Im never good enough unless I let people **** me.
I thought when I met my boyfriend he would actually respect me.
But If I don't get naked he just neglects me, why do I need to have *** for him to love me?
He says the drugs turn him on,
but he can't stay hard enough to get me off. Give him some lotion and ****
all interest in me is lost,
now hes anything but soft.
Does this mean I'm gross?
Should I shave better or wear less clothes? Im over reacting, I know.
God **** I hate all drugs,
I can't stand the lows.
Do I just let him touch me?
I can't spit out the word no.
My body belongs to him, but I'm sick of going with the flow.
I need to make it clear I have a voice of my own.
Falling in love with him gave me a rare sense of hope.
I thought I would finally have some control,
then I realizef I'm still a piece of meat,
an eager to please ***
I felt his love was pure and I wanted it all to myself.
I thought dating a man who preaches how much he cares meant it mattered what I felt.
I got away from the party rapes and bottles of *****
I thought a relationship meant i would finally get to choose.
Why am i still being used?
Maybe he'd understand after stepping in my soulless shoes.
I can never win, the outcome is inevitable, I was born to lose.
So do I lay down and pretend I want the ***
or watch him choose **** when I refuse to say yes.
Would he notice me if I had implants in my *******
Maybe I need to be a tan blonde with no heart in my chest?
We all know those women can **** the best,
I can't compare so I just lay down to rest.
And I don't mean going to bed,
I mean 6 feet under with a grave stone at my head.
Even from the casket all I can smell is ****
the reason for his shiny upper lip covered in sweat.
I asked him to wait on taking a hit,
but he smoked it and failed my little test. It's obvious its the drugs he loves best.
I needed to see if what I felt could over power his want for drugs.
Of course he didn't choose me, but his drugs left pain in my lungs.
I didn't know I would fall apart so young. It's looking like all of my abusers have won.
I should of just put out because now he wants to sleep on the couch.
I should have let him *** in my mouth, because now he's scraping a pipe and I'm just trash waiting to be thrown out.
But that's just how I feel on the regular,
so used to being alone, even with him across the room,
this feelings so familiar.
I promised another abusive relationship would never happen again
but his actions are scary similar.
I know he won't ***** me over,
but I'm a girl who let a drug user abuse her. A girl beaten in the street, wishing he would shoot her. Forced to be a freak in the sheets, a girl who said yes even when it bruised her.
Is it happening again?
Or am I just selfish for not pleasing my man?
Now I'm over thinking
Deep down I know his love is an ocean surounding my land.
My protector, drowning out all of the bad.
After all, he even held me while I screamed with a blade in each hand.
I try to remind myself this but my brain calls ********
My mind is built in a shape that reality doesn't fit.
So when he says I'm his baby I can only hope he means it.
Fearing he will think I'm not worth it, I work so hard to stay atttactive.
Going days without food, I eat like a ******* rabbit.
I'm dizzy and might lose consciousness,
my sleep pattern is ******* eratic.
This migraine has my brain mushy and muffled like tv static.
This pain in my skull is dragging me to sleep,
my body aches, from my soul to my feet.
I should have opened my legs and tried not to shake.
I denied him what he wanted,
thinking my man would love me fully clothed.
I can't help but wonder,
is it wrong to keep my legs closed?
I dont ******* know.
Being in love has left me on the floor cold and shaking,
other men see what they want and take it. Never been given an option,
so used to my body being taken.
He made a promise that he's different, but what if saying no is what'd break it?
I thought a relationship would give me more choices.
Yes or no,
a question I was never asked by my dozens of rapists.
It all feels like a repeat playlist,
I know he loves me and I'm trying to embrace it.
But even completely clothed,
I'm feeling helpless and naked.
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 4:59 AM UTC
I write poetry and my hands shake a lot. I'm the product of a 15 year old drug addict and a 20 sum year old college drop out. I was born into a family who normalized **** Now I'm an 18 year old coming to terms with childhood abuse and abandonment fear. Recently diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, something I'm not sure I'll ever over come.
So this is me. A high school drop out, unemployed, battling all forms of addiction, at war with too many demons.
Craving an up.
Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 6:58 AM UTC
I can literally feel the sadness in my bones.
My heart ******* aches and I'm losing control.
This **** has been killing me so it's time to let go.
Sit back and listen because this story is mine,
Its utter madness but now you'll know why I never trust guys.
I don't think God is real, never have, never will.
They say he loves all his children but don't you see how he breaks them?
I'm not just some atheist because I know this for sure.
Not once has God answered, he's just sent the devil to my door.
You would think the devil isn't human,
But he's as real as me and you.
He doesn't have horns but his favorite colors are black and blue.
Monsters don't hide under beds,
They walk into your room and restrain you under covers.
He pulls back the blanket and I'm staring into the eyes of my own brother.
God smiles, not cries,
As the devil he created shoves the wrong
Definition of love between my thighs.
I can't even call him a fallen angel
Because he never even made it to heaven.
Although he probably felt like it while he ***** me when I was 11.
Naked and scared, I prayed to god but he wasn't there.
I asked God why he dammed me to hell
I never got an answer but maybe I'm the angel that fell.
God said **** it, so I did too.
Years later, Impulsive desicions made me look like a fool.
These demons play hard and knock me to the floor.
But every night I crawled back fiending for more.
I started locking my door because
His empty eyes were burning through my skin.
All "God" has taught me is good hearts never win.
He creates bad men because he's obsessed with sin.
He sends lost souls to my door because
I'm so empty and desperate I let them in.
God did teach me one lesson back when I was 11.
"Close your eyes and think of a song,
you have no reason to feel so wronged,
Stop fighting the devil, accept the ****
When someone actually wants you, learn to appreciate."
The words stuck in my head for 7 years
Now I've got a new demon who whispers in my ear.
Drink a bottle, pop a pill, smoke **** make yourself bleed.
"As long as you have drugs it's all you'll ever need"
Day after day, fighting to get clean
But the devils always watching and never lets go
I've never met a fallen angel so mean and so cold.
We fear his grasp but no ones ever prayed for his soul.
Why not pray for the one who needs it the most?
Because God gives up on all lost souls.
He did it to me, everybody knows.
He'll put you in battle, you'll die for sure.
There's gun shots in my head, so gimme some pills to fight this war.
Make the pain numb, learn to **** like a *****
It seems like an endless battle but that's what the drugs are for.
So my advice to you is to never open that door
It's not worth it, I'm sure.
So when you hear a knock, go hide in your room.
God only sends men to break and bruise.
It's all about power and dope,
A ****** ******* nose.
They only hit you where the marks don't show.
In 97' God stopped caring about others,
So if you open that door
you might be staring into the eyes of your own brother.
And take it from me,
You'll never recover.
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
My phone buzzes with a text
His eyes dart over, blood shot red.
The angers coming out, palms start to sweat.
I always begged him not to do ****
"Who the **** you textin! Let me ****** read!"
This is how it starts, manipulating my heart,
And beating till I bleed.
I say ***** you don't even own me.
You barely even know me!
Your a ****** fiend and a ****** who claims to only smoke ****
but I know youll never get clean.
Youre an unemployed mommy's boy at the age of 23.
Stop slapping me around and be the **** you claim to be.
If your so ******** then why don't you **** me?"
Suddenly I've got a rope around my neck being dragged across the floor.
His eyes go black as he dishes out more.
Now I'm in the middle of the street,
how the **** did I get here?
I never moved my own feet.
He tackled me to the pavement and I started to scream.
There's a man on the sidewalk ignoring my pleas.
The cops showed up but I denied all these things.
He's sitting in jail but I'll never press charges.
He's got a couple felonies and they found needles in his apartment.
I know he's dangerous but deep down he's sweet.
He only hit me a little, and never put me towards death.
Everyone hates woman that stick up for their beating so I'll lay it to rest.
Maybe my minds just distorted from trying to save a monster on ****
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC