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emily-bonson
emily-bonson
F I honestly have nothing to say about myself...
I want to change my name, and run away to a deserted island, Cry myself to sleep, then sleep for an eternity. I want to scream, But I can't. I want to just blink, And things be different. I want to feel in control of my life, Independent. I want an unlimited supply of fuel, To travel across the country. But it doesn't matter what I want, Because life is what it is. Conform. Conform. Conform. I have to stop feeling, Stop wanting, Stop caring, Stop having my own thoughts. Otherwise, I'll be eaten alive, From the inside out.
0
May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 9:37 PM UTC
You Can Want But You Can't Have
No, no, no, no. Yeah, maybe. Okay, but why? Because it is what it is. Is it, though? Yeah, maybe. But what if it's the opposite? No, no. Well, maybe. I think it is. No. It can't be. Okay, but why? Because it is what it is. But what is it? It's that thing. Can you explain? Yeah, maybe. Okay. It's that thing. Go on. That everyone has. What does everyone have? The same thing, but different. How can it be both same and different? Because it is what it is. Keep going. Everybody feels it. Feels what? The thing. What is the thing? The thing is whatever you think it is.
0
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
You Know
There is a civil war going on inside. It seems to be painfully infinite. It is full of self-hatred, loathing. It is confusing, chaotic. You want to cry, you cannot. It is out of control. It makes you angry. What can you do, but nothing? ******* Why?
0
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 1:43 AM UTC
Civil War
Locked in an insane             asylum they are called crazy by all. Sitting, sitting, staring; Ranting about aliens, watching the toddler     float, floating in the air in front of them. On a schedule,     tick, tick, ring goes the bell. They believe what        you or I will not. They see the world the way we        never will. "You're delusional, up is up, not        umop Wrong is wrong,        not write." But what if, not impossibly, for the              better, not him or her is delusional, but        you or I?
0
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 10:08 PM UTC
Delusional
I tried.. You failed. At least I won't regret.. They rejected you. I can try again.. You'll lose again. Some people do better.. You're not that special. But maybe.. No.
0
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
The Struggle Within
Do you ever feel frustrated? I'm overcome with a million words                                                                 that I know I'll never say. Time stops around me, But my brain is  a l i v e. Thoughts gather,                                                and                                                jmup                                                                   aornud Until I can't make sense of what I'm feeling. E v e r y t h i n g  becomes me. I'm a deep, wide river                                 dried up in the sun. Somehow barren,                               yet                                       drowning. I'm walking along this road,                                                      not going anywhere. I'm living each day of the year, But it's routine, copied,                                             routine, copied,                                                                             routine, copied The same    t i c k,                                         t o c k,                          t i c k,                                       t o c k, Until I can't make sense,                                           Of where I'm going. I am nowhere. I'm spinning in every direction, Standing on top of the world.                                                                                                                                        L O S T But here All the same.
0
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
(1) Is It Just Me?
Do you ever feel frustrated? I'm overcome with a million words                                                                 that I know I'll never say. Time stops around me, But my brain is  a l i v e. Thoughts gather,                                                and                                                jmup                                                                   aornud Until I can't make sense of what I'm feeling. E v e r y t h i n g  becomes me. I'm a deep, wide river                                 dried up in the sun. Somehow barren,                               yet                                       drowning. I'm walking along this road,                                                      not going anywhere. I'm living each day of the year, But it's routine, copied,                                             routine, copied,                                                                             routine, copied The same    t i c k,                                         t o c k,                          t i c k,                                       t o c k, Until I can't make sense,                                           Of where I'm going. I am nowhere. I'm spinning in every direction, Standing on top of the world.                                                                                                                                        L O S T But here All the same.
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34
The old tend to say, That we're the ones to blame. The Forgotten Generation. I ask, How can we be blamed, When they themselves made the choices? None of us had yet the voices to raise! So how can they claim, That we are to blame? For the first time in American history, We may not make the climb. Our futures may get worse, Not as in the past. Stuck in a moving stream, We have no ideals to last. We have no original thoughts to think! And yet, We continue to be expected to Rise, To Dream. Maybe we'll look at life with a wink. Maybe we do beat the challenge from the past. Maybe The Forgotten becomes The Remembered. Who knows?
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Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 12:35 AM UTC
The Forgotten Generation
To feel is to hurt. To hurt is to cry. To cry is relief, And the ultimate relief is death. So in reality, isn't to feel really to die?
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Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC
In Reality
Again and again, Round and round, The carousel keeps spinning. It won't stop until I choose, To die or keep on living. The more I watch, The worse it gets, the horses all so blurry. I must decide, Yet still I hide. After all, what's the hurry? So I will take it day by day, And watch the carousel spin on. For now at least, Again and again, Round and round, The carousel keeps spinning.
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Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
Again and Again
You Are Brave. Keep Hanging On!
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
For You!