i guess you have to feel to write poetry, right? maybe thats why im in such a rut such a empty shell void of feeling therefore void of imagination. creativity.
feelings.
i used to write well used to scream out my hurt write it all down. turned my brain off too long. learned how to do it and obviously abused it. im trying to turn it back on, get the wires to spark. too much empty space is how it feels. too many disconnected wires.
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
12:48 am
**** god and religon **** presidents and their ******** **** school **** laws **** normality **** clothes **** ***** **** drugs **** love **** sexism **** rascism **** blood **** words **** suicide **** murderers **** rapists **** knives **** guns **** you **** this poem **** this aint even a poem **** this
11:58 am
its like everything in the world is so beautiful and i am in love with everyone and everything and theres so much beauty and so much love that i cant function because theres no way for me to experience it all and theres no way for me to love all of it back
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
12:07 am
this is my first time writing since may. i dont really know what to write about. ive written about pain, ive written about guilt, *** abuse, drugs. it seems thats all there is to be wrote about. i could write about love, but **** it thats so cliche and trust me ive tried it once and it turned out rotten.
i think this is a very bad time in my life. it feels as if rock bottom is one hill away. (lost all my friends, lost familys respect,cutting, getting fat(startingtostarve), snorting percs). ive thought ive been at rock bottom so many times. but every time i thought it, i realized theres more to come. (every overdose i exposed to mom)
but this time i think im farther down than that. im to the point that i realize dying is a bad option, but i can feel, as the seconds go by, it seems like the best. i know i thought about dying before, but never in this sense. ive never thought of it as a real option, ive always thought "yes, i will take these pills, but they will not **** me. i will get help after they see im suffering"
honestly, i dont want to overdose and end up back in the hospital. its a bore, a endless circle of routine. (take the pills, confess, hospital, pumped with fluids, drink the charcol, talk to doctors, pack my bags, long drive, 1 week stay)
but i dont want to die either. im terrifed of whats after death. (heaven/hell?, rot in the ground? come back a bear?) (worst scenario: stay on earth as a ghost, watch my loved ones suffer)
and i do realize there are people that love me, not many, but enough. and for some ****** up reason thats not stopping me from my selfishness. its not convincing me to let my darkness out.
im so confused about life and about who we are and what were suppoused to do and how everything ended up the way it did. im thinking too much nonsense, not thinking enough commonsense.
anyways, i guess ill keep living for now (probably keep cutting, keep snorting pills, and keep starving) and pray (towho???)that things get better
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 12:30 AM UTC
half past 9 the sun just went down. the burning of the stars reminded me of her.
i found her in the bathtub.
as soon as i walked in i knew something was wrong; the curtain was closed.
i open it.
oh my god
the water was red
her wrist; displayed on the edge of the tub
you could see her veins
oh my god
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 9:39 AM UTC
why am i so tired? have i completely given up? has the river stopped flowing? have you turned it into mud?
are you happy? or do you think of death? do you still dream? is the terror coming back?
can you see my heart? can you feel the grave? do you understand? is it time?
time for the parade? are you broken? can you fix it?
will you kiss me? can you feel it?
can you tell me the reason you shake?
whats your favorite song? favorite lyric? does it represent who you are?
do you know who you are? will you show me?
if not, can i help you find out?
can you feel the heat? or is temperature dropped cold?
is heaven just a place? or a feeling? is the devil coming close? can you feel his heart beating? do you reach out? who is it you trust?
why are your eyes so swollen? have you been crying? do you see the world in grey? is it black and white and blue? bruised like your thighs? cut like your wrist?
why do your eyes spill? is the universe so cruel?
do you love yourself? do you even like yourself? do you know who you are? do you know who you are? do you know who you are? do you know who i am? can you help me find out?
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
she is self-destruction in a bottle. she
can make fire out of sweat,
feel thorns inside her bones, and
the importance of this is that, oh
baby, the river runs red. time to
kick the habit.
but she's a broken vessel, and she
still sees in black and white. so
her body is in overdrive.
fingers caress her ****** thighs
are you listening? because soon she's going
down. a dance with a devil.
her needle's clean, her tar is laced, and her
throat is sore-she has been drowning.
her parents never loved her. her
wrist became an answering machine. she
is cold- her fingers bruised.
traced the stretch marks on her hips she has never been
with. only this month did the
red turned to white.
and by the time she notices
she realizes it's too late and she
has already
made
a
line
on
the
mirror
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
is there water in your lungs? fire in your veins? poison in your blood?
tell me why you cant sleep at night
the whole worlds asleep and you're awake drowning in thoughts of suicide
listening to the demons cry
have you ever felt so used up that you couldn't heave breath from your chest?
do you know what it's like to feel nothing at all?
or everything at once? can you tell me why you're eyes don't shine anymore?
they were once filled with light-they were so bright.
i know you feel like nothing is okay
but darling, i will kiss your scars
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
i don't know if i know anything about trauma
but its been two years and i can still feel his thick palms on my hips
i can taste his sweat on my lips
i can hear him shout not to tell
and no matter how hard i try
no matter how many showers i take
i cannot wash the filth away
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
i cannot remember how many pills i took that night
or how many minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive
no, i cannot remember the details
most of it was a blur
rushing faces, bright lights, loud noises
but i remember your voice
and i remember it was the first time you told me you loved me
do you remember i tried to say it back?
or do you remember the details
did you memorize the seconds i was dead for?
or how long it took to bring me back?
darling, there used to be no difference between your fist and your face
but that night, i couldn't tell your tears from your mouth
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
one.
i saw you standing by the tree at her funeral. nobody knew you were the reason.
two.
she used to talk about you all the time. your laugh, your eyes, oh she was infatuated with your eyes. the night she walked in on you and her-she was completely silent.
three.
nobody knew if that was the reason she killed herself. but in her note it was the only thing she left out.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC