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  Sep 2018 Verbatim Lynnie
Nevaeh Lynn
"I'm fine"
I say
    "Im okay"
    I say
         " Its not important"
          I say
               " I'm not special"
                  I say
"Are you sure?"
They say
     "Do you wanna talk?"
     They say
           "It matters"
            They say
                " You matter"
                    They say...
Please don't don't try and read between lines
Please ignore the cries that slip from my lips
I always say that im fine but really I'm fighting a war inside my mind.
Not Just with myself
But with my friends
My past
       Oh those midnight cries.
"Your over reacting" they start to say
       "People go through worse, your just having a bad day."
How much do i have to try and say its constant?
That I'm not happy just existing.
     And even then i sometimes wish life wasnt a real thing.
               You all built me up
                You all made me happy
               But when it got hard
               They left and my world
Went.    C.    
                    R.    
                            A.  
                                   S.            
                                           H.
                                                  I.
                                                         N.
                                                                 G
Down.
They complain how you never ask for help
But not when your help decides not to help
           Is it too much to ask you to save me?
          Not from people but my brain, its the enemy.
       Please
            Help me
                  Before its
                         Too late
I dont know how much i can cope
With all the false hope
Hanging on to the rope
Sometimes its easier to just let go
My brain is starting to crack me
And when i let go i know no one will catch me
No, they'd rather sit back or stand
Than get depressed teenage blood on their hands.
   My fingers are slipping
     Dont know how much longer I'll last
Just waking up is even a task
I want to sleep
A deep sleep.
Never wake up. Lots of dreams
Im stuck in the grey, and its not what they say.
Help me escape.
Its almost too late.
Sorry guys for the long poem. Its partial rap and partially random. If you have any questions feel free to ask. I guess writing about your emotions is easier when you have No face to your name. :)
Do you ever cry and you don't know why? The tears just seem to all fall, Just all of the sudden your body physically hurts in every place and it just won't stop?
  Sep 2018 Verbatim Lynnie
Katelynn
You told me today,
That you wanted to die.
I could tell in your voice,
That it wasn’t a lie.

I never noticed till now,
Of how you fidgeted more.
I never noticed till now,
Of the sweaters you now wore.

But I did noticed now,
How your skin seemed pailer,
How your eyes darker.
Have you been eating?
Have you even been sleeping?

But when you told me,
I finally saw.
The darkness that surrounds you.
When did you start to fall?

Why didn’t I noticed,
That your smile missed your eyes.
Why didn’t I noticed,
That your voice told such lies.

If I had noticed sooner,
Would this had ever happened.
If I had noticed sooner,
Would you had never saddened.

I screamed for you,
Wanting it to not be true,
I cried for you,
Though I didn’t have a clue.

I waited for you,
For you to react,
But the mirror stayed still,
My image intact.
Though this poem is in depth about me, I have in the past, and have seen others struggle with suicidal tendencies. I hope that anyone going through this will reach out to others because you are worth it and you deserve to be here. The suicide hotline is 1-800-273-8255, please contact this if you need help, because you deserve to have help.
  Sep 2018 Verbatim Lynnie
Vener
Hey, I remember--
stories of you and I when--
you were still alive.
These memories will--
continue alongside me--
'til the day I die.
  Sep 2018 Verbatim Lynnie
R
They tell me to be proud,
but little do they know that Pride is a deadly sin and even deadlier if I walk through the wrong alleyway.

They tell me to be confident,
but little to they know that hands-in-my-pockets-hunched-over has hid me my whole life.

They tell me to be loud,
but little do they know that disappearing quietly has kept me alive all these years.

They tell me to speak up,
But little do they know that masking who I am has allowed me to move in this world
As If I Am Free.

They tell me to be proud but pride is confidence and confidence is being loud and being loud is speaking up and speaking up

is

Dangerous? Dangerous.

They tell me it's okay,
they'll be fine,
But how could they know? They haven't
faced the fear of knowing the unlimited know -

- Secrets spilled as blood over middle school halls -

They tell me to be proud.

They tell me to be proud, as if
confirming the masses can fix all that I've broken -

-Silent shards over ***** linoleum -

They tell me to be proud.

They tell me to be proud and I nod,
breaking glass and spilling blood and
maybe one day I will.

Maybe one day I'll speak up
loud and confident,
the terror of facing them left behind, my
shining clean face proud.

But until then,
They tell me to be proud.
They say and tell and demand me to be proud.
They tell me to be proud.

Dangerous? Dangerous.
Deadly? Deadly.
Shards.
Sins.

Pride.
Shoutout to Those People Who Make Me Write This Poem. You know who you are.
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