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Specs 7d
Today I felt the need to bleed,
Strongest it's been for a while.
I clenched my jaw and pinched my fingers,
Turned grimace into smile.

I wanted to scratch myself to pieces,
Rake nails across my skin.
Or make myself throw up my dinner
Any pain would be a win.

I don't quite know what set it off,
Why I had such strong desire
To bite my fingers, pull my hair,
Or recklessly play with fire.

But something happened just today,
I wish that I knew why.
Because something happened just today,
That made me want to die.

And since it's been so long since Then
Since when these feelings were there
It shocked me to the core alright,
And suddenly I was scared.

I've lied to myself for far too long,
Saying I'm alright,
But in reality that isn't true,
In reality I'm done with this fight.

I don't want to keep living a fearful life,
But I fear all my strength is gone.
I've fought against myself so long,
That I just want to be done.
Short lines across skin
are deep tales in a language
far too few understand
Specs Mar 5
Today is the youngest I'll ever be.
I'm looking back a year or three.
I don't want to spend my days, lying in wait
Wondering what I need to know;
So, here I go.

The road I've walked is a quarter done,
But thorns along the trail they've stung.
I don't want this feeling to last, stuck in days of the past
Overthinking every blow;
So, here I go.

And I'm still new to the path,
It's twists and it's turns, I feel I've only begun.
But I look just behind me at rivers and canyons,
I've come so far, and I'm done.

Today's the youngest I'll ever be,
I've worked so ******* becoming me.
I'm not in places I've been, I'm just stuck in between
Impossibly fast and slow.
But here I go.
This is actually a song I wrote, I hope you enjoy.
Specs Feb 23
Where did I go that day, when I was shaking and crying.
Where did I go when I was sure I was dying?
Because so many times before when I was broken down,
I'd been aware of the sharp, heavy crown

Where did I go when I supposedly snapped,
Where did I go when I was nowhere but trapped?
I guess I thought that I was in control and
It still feels like my mind was hijacked, stolen.

Where did I go for that space of an hour?
Where did I go when I did nothing but cower?
It doesn't seem real that my brain showed up late,
And now I feel without control, which I hate.

So where did I go, please I need to hear,
'Cause ever since I left, I've been living in fear.
Specs Feb 8
I am not allowed to do things that
You wouldn't.
I am not allowed to say things that
You wouldn't.
I am not allowed to believe things that
You wouldn't.
You wouldn't
let me grow into a person,
Grow into Me.
If I asked you to help make a change,
You wouldn't.
If I asked you to make an effort to be understanding,
You wouldn't.
If I asked you to care,
You wouldn't.


I will.
Care for things and people that need it.
I will.
Try to understand people who are different.
I will.
Make a change.
Growth in the soul
Will turn me into myself, and
I will.
I will
Determine my own beliefs.
I will
Shout what I must.
I will
Choose to be what
You weren't.
This has kind of a slam feel to it, I kinda dig it
Specs Feb 7
You say I'll never understand
Because to you, I'm whole.
The thing is, I'm ahead of your game,
And I am in control.

The spiderwebs that fill my head,
The boiling blood of my brain,
Tell me all things I want
I'll never, ever obtain.

You think because I don't complain
I'm happy all the time.
To me that thought's ridiculous—
There's no reason to that rhyme.

My mind is a smoking circuit.
Death is a trending topic.
My mind is dark, my thoughts are too.
You're too blind to see— myopic.

Your simple, shortsightedness
Has all but proved my theory:
You only care for me when you've time,
You are tired of me, and grow weary.

So please, tell me I'm not broken,
Please, tell me I'm "too good."
When I roll my sleeves and lift my shirt,
You'll wish you'd understood.

And maybe you do, who am I to say?
What's to say you don't see it every day,
That my heart is worn, I'm giving out,
I need to yell, scream, and shout.

But I'm close to six feet under,
Digging my own grave bit by bit.
"It's okay to ask for help,"
I said. What a hypocrite.

So tell me I'm not damaged enough
To hear you talk of days you rue.
Maybe you're right all along,
But I'll still listen to you—

Unlike you.
This poem makes my own blood boil.

Just because someone seems okay doesn't mean they are. There is absolutely no point to the pain game. Because the world is full of sad, sad, people, who simply care too much for themselves, and nothing for others.
Specs Jan 30

Sweet one I love.
Dream date.
Made conversation.
First kiss.

Dream one I love,
Be bold.
Wow me.
Hug me.
Kiss me.
I <3 you.
For you... not significant?
One I love
Loved me

May inadvertently become
In the throat
In English class once, we had to write a poem using only words on and in a box of conversation hearts. I thought it was really fun, so if you want to do this in the month of February, tag it CHBpoem, and we can have a whole collection!
Specs Jan 27
A telephone wire cut.
Something's wrong inside my head.
The thing is, I don't know just what.

Chirping alarms
Whirring fans
Smoky smells
Red. Blinking. Lights.

A robot whose been programmed wrong,
An exposed sparking wire.
The buttons don't click all the way.
Hazardous, watch for fire.

Do not approach

This automatic switch is supposed to make me excited
This one makes a genuine smile.
Nobody notices, though, that I'm on manual control
And have been for a while.


Electricity and buttons and wires
Do not mix well with water, I think.
But because I'm in desperate need of repair
I'm in constant thirst for a drink.

"Should have bought that extended warranty."
"Did you turn it off and on again?"
No. Because it's broken.

Hard drive shorting
Lights are blinking
And I'm thinking
My last thoughts exporting


The only thing that works well anymore
Is the part that goes through the motions.
Perseverance is my constant notion
As I burn myself out on the shore.

It's hot to the touch.
Back off.
Soon, it might Explode
Bruh, I don't feel like a person anymore
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