I broke too much
of myself
thinking someone
could fix me.
I should have not
turned myself
to pieces
in the first place.
Because no one
would ever keep
a broken mirror
in their pockets.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 12:36 AM UTC
It’s just easier to say yeah I’m okay,
and then lay my head down on the couch at the end of the day.
What I’m feeling is selfish, it’s mostly about me.
Just wishing you would stick around and never ever leave.
So I’ve been quiet all day because I know I should be happy for you.
I’ve been quiet all day because I already miss you.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 12:35 AM UTC
Sometimes
I just run out
I feel too much
And I’m left numb
No more
Happiness
Sadness
Fear
Anger
Love
Hatred
Motivation
It just runs out
I’m left a shell of a person
I lose sight of my life
And my will to live
I push myself away from others
Until some shred of feeling returns
And I go back out
To the world
To be battered and attacked once more
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 12:16 AM UTC
Uncomfortable within this skin.
My joints complain
and muscles scream.
But people say, *"It's normal.
It's more common than you think."*
My mind in shambles.
Ideas incoherent
and thought processes
sluggish at best.
But people say, *"It's normal.
It's more common than you think."*
My emotions are in
total disarray.
I'm not happy
yet I'm not anything at all.
But people say, *"It's normal.
It's more common than you think."*
My insides twisting,
splitting.
Every grain and fibre
set on fire.
But people say, *"It's normal.
It's more common than you think."*
If this is normal,
I'm petrified with
the prospect of
what isn't.
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 11:58 AM UTC
Why am I not like her?
She has the most beautiful skin,
Remarkable appearance with red plump lips,
Everyone can’t help but wonder as she passes by
How can someone be so pretty?
One Day I came across the thought
Why am I not pretty like her??
I go back and stare at the mirror like never before…
Her body shape like an hourglass made my faint curves shy
Her spotless skin mocked mine with acnes and freckles
Her brown eyes with long lashes while I had bags below my eyes
Her plump lips versus mine that looks dreadful
Why can’t I be like her?
“Maybe because I’m nothing infront of her”
I again take my attention back to myself in the mirror
Just picturing her remarkable feature in my head makes me look ugly
makes me look like a trash, garbage and useless…
Why am I not like her?
I question myself with tears that can’t help but fall down my eyes
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 7:15 AM UTC
I'm tired.
Tired of everything.
I just want to sleep,
And never wake up again.
No, I'm not lazy,
I'm not running away from life.
I'm just tired of the world and myself,
And too tired to change anything.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 7:11 AM UTC
Breathe in, breathe out, then die.
That’s what I’ve done for the past 4,271,344 seconds, and I’m exhausted.
I don’t want to breathe anymore.
I don’t want to do anything anymore.
I’m not even scared of dying, I am so so scared of living though.
I wrote them a letter about who I am.
Who I am is not what they want.
Maybe it’s my fault for lying in the letter, I told them I was happy while holding back tears.
I wonder when my lies will stop being enough for people to stop checking on me.
Give them a smile, tell them “I’m okay”, and they’ll leave you to pick yourself apart.
I’m so tired.
And my ribs feel so heavy.
But don’t worry.
I’m okay.
I’ll just breathe in,
Breathe out.
And die.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 7:10 AM UTC
Ｉｆ ｉｔ ｍａｋｅｓ ｙｏｕ ｆｅｅｌ ｂｅｔｔｅｒ
Ｉ'ｌｌ ｓａｙ ｔｈａｔ Ｉ'ｍ ＯＫ
Ｉｔ'ｓ ａ ｌｉｅ ｂｕｔ Ｉ'ｌｌ ｓａｙ ｉｔ ａｎｙｗａｙ
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 7:10 AM UTC
When I was five,
my mother told me I was loved.
Years later, she asked me to leave because
I was the reminder of the gruesome past that haunted her.
When I was ten,
my father told me he believed in me.
Years later, he refused to accompany me because
I was an embarrassment to him in front of the society.
When I was fifteen,
my friends told me I was funny.
Years later, they all laughed at me because
I was the gullible teenager who fell for their flawless façade.
When I was twenty,
this guy said I was beautiful.
Years later, he trashed me, tormented me because
I was ignorant enough to overlook my inevitable flaws.
So, sorry for not believing in you,
for questioning your intentions, inclusively, in-depth
when you told me you loved me because
I didn’t want to wind up years later,
learning it the hard way that people often don’t mean what they say.
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 5:59 AM UTC