My head is clouded
Im faded
No use in trying to escape it
All the while, trying to erase it
I'm here
Alone, but listening
I need everything you have to give,
But I realize now that's an unrealistic request
I'm still chasing it
Escape it, and erase it
There's no point is wasting anymore time desiring the undesirable
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 4:40 AM UTC
The heat and oxygen course through your lungs like a temporary flame
One sweet dull second of numbness
All they can see is an empty vessel; an unstained body, with from the looks of it, not a care in the world
But they are simply decomposing from the inside out
No doubt, they will be a platform of overt despair by the end of the night
The sight will give a writer something to write about, an empath something to cry about, and a lover something to worry about
Destruction is infused in every cell of their body
When it comes down to choice, there is not one
It feels to them as if the days inevitably, and relentlessly, cease to end in the immense amount of pain instilled in every ounce of their being
Dreading tomorrow as if it's a terminal sickness
Once you have lost hope, it seems there is no fire left to burn
The time that they have left in the world will be filled with cheap cigarettes, Irish car bombs, and lifeless friends
Closely comparable to a dying tree; close to expired, and still so beautiful
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
Tick tock
The man is gone
Tick tock
Did he run?
Tick tock
He made a mistake
Tick tock
Time has been stopped
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
A breathing corpse
Patiently waiting for the violent images to abandon my mind
Hours pass
A thickness hovers over me, and I can now feel him
No words are ever spoken
No face, and no name
The only option is to wait for them to go away
My entire being is consumed
I can't move my body, or control my thoughts
My reality is controlled by subconsciousness
Total awareness with a complete lack of control
Torture
When will it end?
When will I be left alone?
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
Pain is something so dimensional
It can be ones suffering, or lack there of
No one way to describe it, and no one way to feel it
An ache from the pain
Eventually amounting into complete numbness
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
When you look at me you call me beauty,
When I hear the words, beautiful, hot, **** dayum girl you lookin fine!
I roll my eyes like bowling ***** down the alley rolling, rolling,
Boom go the pins of thanks, thank yous and you are too kind,
Like a snake I smile and hiss and slither along and all you see is the skin I shed,
When all I wish to do when such words are used to convey and display how I portray my outer skin,
Is to scream I am NOT capital N-O-T beautiful or any fucking such **** for it has been tattooed on my skin in deep purple mirror cracks and stained silver that I am N-O-T,
So please excuse me if I do not thank you the next time you label me these graceful words of which I am not.
An anonymous girl ©
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
I have deluded self delusions when the tick goes tock at 4'oclock,
Demons scream from the pinkish grey spongy filled with tar cells of my lungs,
The woods I wander in wondering why there I cannot breathe and you do not heed,
The warnings I whisper through your phone in a melodramatic uncondescending tone,
Met with Mrs. Plath in a black cabin to pour blood from poetic scars whilst drinking from whiskey bottles of poisonous stardust derived from a sandy beach named lost and found insecurities,
At ease my disregarded beauty ever so defined by fiction,
**** its now half past 4'oclock and all I wish to do is pollute the air with dusty ill impaired screams,
I want to scream,
I want to scream,
My blankets envelop me drowning out my ink tears as they drip drip drop stop,
Stop looking at me that way,
Stop talking to me that way,
Oh god don't hate me for my coagulated words!
Trapping myself in-between a sandwich of a multitude of feelings ghastly emotions,
Smiling depression shaking hands with bitter caramel anxiety,
Pirouetting on a trampoline of repetition,
**** it is now 5'oclock I must shut my eyes and dream of when another tick goes tock at 4'oclock.
An anonymous girl ©
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 5:08 AM UTC
What does it take
For a man to bury his dreams
Behind the garage with his gone pets?
Was it responsibility and maturity
To know that the dreams of a child
Weren't obtainable for a man anymore?
Was it because too many people
Said it couldn't be done
The doubt that seeded in
Just added up to lost time
And now there just wasn't enough time?
What does it take
For a man to finally bury his dreams?
Shovel in hand, a cigarette rests in his lips
As he says goodbye
To the dreams he had as a child
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
65kg, 70kg, 80kg, 100kg, 120kg,
And I am too fat,
Too fat,
TOO FAT,
Too fat for what exactly?
To be ******
To have my body desecrated upon by feral beasts who could not care about my heart's weight no matter my body's weight?
To be called beautiful cos baby I know I am beautiful somewhere in this world but am I really if I am not labeled as such?
You say I should eat healthy or exercise I could look like her, or him or her, I could ruin my body on the inside yet it is the outside you judge my ill-bitten health upon,
Perhaps if you had X-ray vision and could see through my chest cavity the pores of health I do possess would be more than obvious,
**** I am still breathing aren't I?
My heart, is it still beating?
My legs still moving,
My fingers still able to intertwine with my lovers?
Then who are you to judge me upon my " fat " ?
Who are you to make me doubt my self-worth, self-being, self-love and self-beauty with the uttering of four little insignificant yet morally diminishing words?
You are too fat.
An anonymous girl ©
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
I throw angry words around like punches,
Like fiery lightning in crunches of dry cereal and no milk,
I am my own lightning,
I am the icy fire of a dragons hot breath,
I do not fight with fists,
Only narratives and figuratives,
I hesitate when it gets personal,
Oh so personal that my very own words that I conjure up from my wizards hat choke me for days on end without a single reprimand,
Oh how bitter this butter does taste upon my poetic pancake,
When will I get the recipe right and not left,
Left without a decision but to drink orange juice hope so sour yet so sweet,
What comes after hell I ask you?
Certainly not heaven or life of any pleasurable kind,
No, not that pleasurable kind you with your pervy mind,
I see you thinking such things of me as you read my poetry,
What a mad woman this must be,
To utter such words that mean nothing to me,
I am certain I must be hated and disliked by many of whom I adore and cherish,
Oh how I wish this feeling would just perish,
Perish like a mess in the presence of someone with a severe case of ocd,
A case of 12 or 24 either way you get what I mean,
I am such an irritating figure with a sad face of rash doings and thoughts,
Hark,
Hark my words I say for I birth them from my heart's womb.
An anonymous girl ©
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 8:22 AM UTC