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In a drop of you, I lost an ocean of me.
black skirt climbing up her shining thighs…
she pulls it down and the excitement dies

from the men around her: “****, she’s fine!”
looking up from her phone- she’s next in line.

“may i see your id?” asks the giant,
she shows it to him- acting compliant.

female, black hair, brown eyes, twenty-one.
everything checks out- “stay safe, have fun.”

once she steps through those guarded doors,
she puts her pvc plastic back inside her michael kors.

no ‘x’ on her hand, but an ex on her mind-
she steps onto the dance floor and begins to grind.

many men manage to embrace her swaying hips,
bite her beautiful neck, and kiss her thirsty lips.

from their mouths flows a river of lies,
while hands below swim up sweating thighs.

she’s feeling ecstatic, but he wants more,
her “friends” watch as he carries her out the door.

to say “yes,” she’s in no position,
so he advances without a proposition.

the next morning when she wakes,
in funny places her body aches.

next to her he’s fast asleep,
her phone rings: bleep, bleep!

texts from her “friends” fill her screen-
things they typed, they did not mean.

“we’re worried…  where are you? text me the address!”
she gathers her things and pulls down her black dress.

tiptoeing through his apartment, she quietly closes the door.
she’s quiet in the car still, afraid of being called a “*****.”

when they asked her to come out that night, she said: “i don’t like partying anymore.”
I just looked on my phone one day
"hey"
I honestly didn't know weather to answer or not.
But I did
I legit said 'hi' back and you said such sweet things to me. you never know how much it can make someone's day by doing that. I saw some of your poems and you are honestly a great writer. I hope we can be internet friends or something because you are awesome...
You deserve so much more than my sucky poem but whatever :))
thank you for making my day, Carson
-Vianna
Depression isn't a pretty girl with a flawless face crying
Depression isn't a bad day
Depression isn't grief from a loss of a loved one
Depression isn't a thing
Depression is the loss of something
Depression is the loss of happiness
Depression is where you lose yourself
and try to find yourself within your skin.
Nobody thinks what I think
Nobody dreams when they blink
Think things on the brink of blasphemy
I'm my own shrink
Think things are after me, my catastrophe
I'm a kitchen sink
You don't know what that means
Because a kitchen sink to you
Is not a kitchen sink to me, okay, friend?
Are you searching for purpose?
Then write something, yeah it might be worthless
Then paint something then, it might be wordless
Pointless curses, nonsense verses
You'll see purpose start to surface
No one else is dealing with your demons
Meaning maybe defeating them
Could be the beginning of your meaning, friend
-Twenty One pilots

What they're trying to say, is that, when you feel that life has no purpose, and aren't living for anything anymore, then make something, weather it be, a poem, a song, a painting, or anything. As long as it matters to you, and you know what it means, then you have purpose, because if you die, then who else is gonna know what it means to you?
I try desperately to run through the sand
As I hold the water in the palm of my hand
'Cause it's all that I have and it's all that I need and
The waves of the water mean nothing to me
But I try my best and all that I can
To hold tightly onto what's left in my hand
But no matter how, how tightly I will strain
The sand will slow me down and the water will drain
I'm just being dramatic, in fact, I'm only at it again
As an addict with a pen, who's addicted to the wind
As it blows me back and forth, mindless, spineless, and pretend
Of course I'll be here again, see you tomorrow, but it's the end of today
End of my ways as a walking denial
My trial was filed as a crazy suicidal head case
But you specialize in dying, you hear me screaming "father"
And I'm lying here just crying, so wash me with your water
- Twenty one pilots

— The End —