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May 20 · 109
send my mind away to the crows.
their ****** will grow and feed off my guilt,  there's no will in a way of destruction and pain. so much hate in my brain my heart takes the thrill. if it was a trip then I'm overdue, if it's all was my fault then my fall out is true, there is no point for my doubts to break through, as though I'd thought I could outlive the moon,
look . . . . the birds are resting just a few miles away,
I hooked . . . . my thoughts to a line that could go either way,
breathe . . . .  and yet all it releases are thoughts of unease,
saved . . . . thousands of worries I hope would be freed.
and yet all I've learned is livid souls can't survive, and there's more impulsive acts due to pain in the night, as if when the sun goes down we run out of reason, and the darkness within us becomes more alive.
if in the time being, the pain is still eaten, am I a free man or a one within treason?
if the joy that I get is from moments of numbness,
have I received it or faked my own freedom?
be honest....
this is all I've written for a few weeks. i know it isn't that good but life has been really hard lately so I tried my best.
all feedback is welcome and appreciated
May 2 · 175
I'm being selfish in the wake of bravery. stuffing down my own needs are essential, but I resent the loneliness that haunts me til i sleep again... and all that sleep brings are nightmares too devilish to scavenge once more in for conversation. I couldn't hold in my fears as they overlooked other's lives and jumped to safety. it feels unkind. I'm praying I get my way. do I truly deserve it, though? or am I begging for things I shouldn't have? in this life maybe I haven't earned the right to get what I want. not in this way, thinking so much of myself while belittling others. maybe I got so sick of putting my feelings off they've driven me mad. they've definitely driven this aggressive nudge in me, hoping, or so demanding, my way. demeaning yours and swaying everything a little more until it all crashes and leaves me truthfully alone, wishing I hadn't pushed everyone so far that they scattered away.
I know im clingy. it's bc I'm so lonely that I feel the need to hold onto people. I feel selfish but I'm so tired of being alone.
all feedback is welcome and appreciated
Apr 24 · 144
as each memory burned deeply in me, I knew
they'd be stuck there forever. forever in my mind, smoking and smothering me. I'm still rubbing soot off my skin and hoping it won't stick again. the past is over and yet, when I get scared it's all the same. stop, drop, and roll. sometimes I'll cover my face as I cry and hope my tears will be enough to put out the flames. the doorknob feels hot... so don't ask why I don't come out. i still feel it. the fire's still there. still burning in the back of my mind, and I'll always take precautions before trying. just trying to live. but how am I meant to when my past keeps burning me alive?
I'm so sorry for not posting in so long. my mental health has gone so low lately I can't even think to write. I don't even know what the **** I'm doing anymore. life is pointless
Feb 22 · 549
I stand alone with my shadow,
Developing larger on the floor.
Voices are heightened in these loosened hours,
I can feel my failures outside my door.
For is it fair to live in fear,
Consistently dreading numbed durations?
I still sense the pain of things that won't adhere,
And uneasy twinges of deserted sensations.
My apathy is back and it has worsened,
My eyes have widened because I know what comes next.
The flood of my trauma ends lack of emotion,
drowning me, sending me straight to my death-
I have felt apathy my whole life

I feel so much I push it out of my head so I don't die.
I feel too much and itsit's horrible.
I feel numbed most days now to try and deal with it
Feb 22 · 1.2k
I plugged my nose and went underwater.
I'm confusing life and death with a thin line.
I lose myself, and soon find another,
Out a sink drain with darkness in its spine.
The last one is more afraid of the next I own,
I can't tell who'll take my heart.
Make it or break it, and I certainly broke
Mine as it got harder to locate in the dark.
The water has bubbled up into my throat,
Its silky and warm and I cannot resist.
I thought I was better, but I hate to boast,
I had just hoped I'd never end up like this-
I hope I haven't posted this before.
I haven't been myself lately and I'm sorry.
I'm sorry to everyone and everything
Feb 22 · 213
Tempting... certainly tempting to attempt an impulsed
Ease of pain. to drift off the earth and re-appear
Somewhat myself physically. it's tempting. but if I
Tilt my morals and background, what will I have?
Others may stick to the past and I can barely
Stomach the thought. I'm barely surviving
The present, presenting as a character without
End to preserve lack of sleep and well-being. I can't
Rip apart my body and start anew,
Observing the world as myself. I cannot be myself.
Never in my life did I think id feel this way,
Envying what I'll never have but ****, it's tempting...
so sorry I haven't been on in so long.
I have lost all motivation to write bc
my heart hurts too much to even try.
I hope this is good, for anyone who cares or has stuck around

all feedback is welcome and appreciated
Dec 2018 · 255
If I'm worth the fight,
then I can take a hit.
It isn't whether I win,
it's if I refuse to quit.
That's funny, because just wait,
for about 24 hours.
Where I'll gain the tremors,
but lose uncertain power.
An inner conflict is my battle,
but one I don't think ends.
Should I be authentically useless?
There's a home I could transcend.
I could ascend upon my limits,
I'm a king to every kind of thinking.
I control my darkness,
in the rapid form of blinking.
Open, close, open, close,
My fists could match the sides.
They're knocking on my skull,
of course I'm gonna abide.
I lost purpose when I dropped value,
when nothing stopped me from the pain.
if all I give to the world is anger,
why shouldn't I receive the same??
I relapsed again, I hate myself.
Punched a wall so hard I instantly bruised my knuckles.
Pulled out a patch of my hair.
Made my leg blue from hitting it so hard.
I feel like I deserve this.
And is my thought differing from the truth?
I don't think so.
Keep living, y'all.
I'll do the same.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Dec 2018 · 1.5k
his rugged eyes tore his soul,
desperate for a break.
He likes the poison it drips off,
more desperate for its intake.
He seems.... hungry..
but it's not only lack of food.
It's the distance he walks between who he is,
and how he's really viewed.
He acts angry, and he is,
but it's at that part he can't obey.
It keeps ripping up his notes,
so that his real words can never stay.
So he doesn't have thoughts of his own,
or even a body, and around his neck?
A vial that keeps getting tighter,
seeping chemicals within to cause regret-
i haven't been on here in FOREVER so I'm sorry, lol. I relapsed and these last few weeks have been tough, to the point where I couldn't write without getting really low inside my head. Anyway, i appreciate all the support I've been getting, and I have a youtube channel if y'all didn't know. I made some songs and posted them on there, if you type in Lyn Defelice, I'll pop up.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Nov 2018 · 222
His melancholy eyes,
Didn't settle for the world.
His bittersweet heart,
Was never caught by any girl.
He's nostalgic for content,
Doleful hands strain to attain,
Whatever he tends to lack,
From inside those frosted panes.
He doesn't leave his room.
The window sill calms down his brain,
Knowing any moment he could jump,
To feel something upon his frame.
He's sad and unwilling,
Given strength when he loses control.
Each loss of rein will cut a rope,
To which untethered his varied soul-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Nov 2018 · 324
'No Road Ahead'
His cement touch grasped my lungs,
cracking down on the system we had made.
My mind is not quiet until it is numb,
compacting a road for old memories' sake.
This ground takes place in the back of my head,
the gravel makes bumps I always displace.
No one will come; calling 'No Road Ahead'
I am lost in this part for most of my days.
The colder it is, the more likely I'll freeze,
keep driving this way to try and find home.
Frozen in time, I don't know the ease,
between what is 'home' and a house no one knows.
I isolated my heart from the world because nobody cares,
it is worthless to think of myself with emotion.
I'd rather continue just driving this way,
and force myself to keep going through the motions-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Nov 2018 · 574
I think I lost my mind,
Between finding myself
And letting parts go that
I'm not sure of anymore.
I needed the strength to bind
My brain together, but what's left
Isn't enough, and getting it back
Is leaving my heart sore.
Friends are slipping away,
Because I do not have control
Over what I do, or if I talk
About the pressure of being myself.
Sad thing is, I'm losing more each day,
The war opened up my soul,
I knew I was not
Normal since I met this hollow desk,
And my mind worked itself away-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Oct 2018 · 699
Train Tracks
We have incentive to collect our fears,
replace them with hope in the incoming years.
But we tie them off and leave them alone;
stash them away in the deepest parts of our bones.
Stamp them in blood, or tears we forgot,
switch off the trauma and train of our thoughts.
The tracks mail letters, to the backs of our minds;
a land unknown from the depth of our blinds.
I promise you, this ill way of thinking,
doesn't solve the problem, nor help it sink in.
Someone will find them,
somehow deny them,
for the points you could've made;
and the pain you couldn't take-
I feel like pain, or trauma gets invalidated when we don't speak up about it immediately. I also feel like it also gets invalidated if people don't get it; I feel like i tend to hide my pain in fear of laughter.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Oct 2018 · 439
If you'd notice, you could see the way he lost his mind,
shattered on the tile floor he donates to. The coats of bandages
that soaked right through. You can feel the lack thereof in effort;
and I'm not saying you should be the one to save him, or that it's
your fault, all I'm saying is that the signs were there,
and you didn't notice for the sake of "I'm doing better now."
Maybe we become denial, or numb to the stone cold facts in
front of us. We shouldn't side with anger because it's easier;
rather lend a hand to someone lower than us in the hopes
you'll raise the rock-bottom people and awareness that this
effects more than obviously-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!

I feel like we should check up on our friends, and lend a hand, whether they say they're okay or not. Offer help and just a friends,it can do wonders.
Oct 2018 · 173
It's a constant battle.
I'm finding shells on my floor,
and a flood of defeat.
They got me again.
They tore up my flag;
and flattened my heart that scoped out nonsense.
I'm getting into fist fights with the mirror.
This world doesn't matter to me.
My bleeding nose and horrid mind are too naive for you to think that I am free;
breaching a shadow too small to cover me.
Mediums hover me,
and you call to connect with me.
Against my brain;
and induced will.
Against reality to assist a thrill-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Oct 2018 · 1.3k
I'm not staying,
it's my blame.
I'll leave the innocent;
I'm not the same.
I've got blood on my hands.
Pressure to understand.
You're right.
You've always been.
I tend to forget.
I won't bother you,
still my existence bothers me.
My mind smothers me.
The nights scare me;
comfort is scarce.
The dark makes things worse,
and this silence hurts.
It can be so loud,
the noise of nothing.
The sounds of your thoughts,
utterly isolated.
I love y'all;
but I don't love me.
I can't live up to what you all think of me-
all feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Oct 2018 · 104
I am more than physically here.
My mental plain is in a place I cannot explain.
My mind is not complex, it's deeper than depth; it's fed up with death and destruction of choice.
Detecting a voice, instructing deployment of every step, each person that's left on an edge of a cliff.
I'm floating away, there's no reason more that I have to stay.
These streets are a home, a place I can't go, a place I don't know, it calls for company, impacted in memories.
Forgotten by most of me.
Hated by all of me.
Don't open the doors, they'll hear the screams; the screen of perfection is not what it seems, it's not what it means, lean on me.
Clean your mind.
Find the time that fits you right; and make it late, just please don't die-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Thanks for all the likes n stuff
Oct 2018 · 757
My visuals are out to get me,
Drive in front and claim the safety.
Pull a map and divise a route,
To keep me from my- too loud. too loud.
You take the wheel,
I'll fake a path.
The road divides us
From future and past.
I wanna drive back,
until then i will roam.
the seats of tanned memories,
remind me of home-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Oct 2018 · 594
I'm emotionally detached,
in twenty nine days ninety panic attacks,
I see through your eyes,
straight to your past,
the times that you meant it when you really laughed.
Your crescents hate light,
and descend through the day,
I'm deciding my mind between painful and sane,
dividing a line between not okay and opaque.
I know my life's doubtful,
more mournful than most.
Lost in translation as feeling the least,
a leash on my brain and one sense of release.
I wanna meet sharpness to puncture my breath,
rather than losses I can't reconnect-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated

This poem is about how unattached I am from myself. I hope it makes sense
Oct 2018 · 1.8k
If I could mount that rock to my forehead,
the demons I'm fighting would finally go.
I know the risks of one last blow.
Visibility is prevented from me, by me, divided.
I choose sadness because it was all i ever felt.
This plateau of emotion will eventually
**** me-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Oct 2018 · 166
Privated Attics
The attic attacks me, won't back
me up in fights with my heart.
Dust will conclude how long I've
been afraid, cleaned for the
dusk; I don't know my name.
Wading in rivers for its own trade,
confront the buyer at higher
stakes than the owner, lower I fall.
"Tone down the pain" mediocre
control over what I am and
what I will become, my thumbs
pricked for another accusation.
I'll discuss my problems only the
world can understand, privated
and classified; I am just a man.
I am just a boy, and these passages
aren't used to show how much
better I've gotten, only if I say I do.
These words and all the strings
of things I can collect, are something
much more deep than you'll ever comprehend.
you believe I am recovering,
because that's all you're allowed to see.
Can't you sense the great dispense
that one day I'll look up from your feet?
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Oct 2018 · 145
I'm really not who I thought I was,
how do you move on with life
when you place it to pause?
I am the boss to my own mind,
but cower at each door it confines,
to condone the person I could be and
wrong the person I wish I was,
I'm the boss of my own mind
but a slave to what it does.
Died to a coward that
hides behind demands,
and the density of this reality is
what weighs my bones down,
some of you know what this is now.
What it means to be shackled
to what you hate,
here have a go at the scariest
things your head can make.
The thoughts that break
your heart but tell it to go
Running after something
you'll never reach,
and as I'm running forever
I can't move my feet
off this bed,
inside my head I'm growing tired,
so my eyes will never open;
and I'm hoping you know that I fear
when I get older my memories will wake
and it'll take me,
too late to save me.
Why bother even
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Did you spot the king of hearts?
Or a queen pushed out the deck,
wrangled up onto his neck,
paying life's mistake within his debt.
Did you see the king with optimism?
Or a queen for his conviction,
sending surgeries in her eviction,
and a set of lilies in prescriptions.
Did you notice her own absence?
Coming upon a night she left,
with nothing more than a theft,
to steal the king's last peaceful breath.
No it wasn't death,
nor a killing of any kind,
just a ****** to his mind,
locked in a tighter, darker bind.
He doesn't have one secret,
and if he did, would he keep it?
It wouldn't be quite convenient,
to trick his knights for fake treatments-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Oct 2018 · 123
Perfected Intentions
What's my intention?
Addressing defected vision, and a deceptive mind.
Don't be them, it's not worth
acceptance for my head to be condemned.
Don't lengthen expectations
just for its redemption, i collect
perfections to dissect my flaws,
and what's wrong with me is not the cause of pain.
It's the pitying regain, to retain
what I once had just to be sad all over again.
I know the fear of hope, and the
way to cope is not tying a rope
into a noose, to tighten
my voice each time it's used.
Yet I'm used to it, right?
Fighting the days and regretting
my nights, I put up a good fight,
but I became blind to a light in the dark,
just open your eyes.
When did it start?

When did it stay?
They're watching me, all the things
that I do, so if I get it wrong, I don't belong.
I'm switching my thoughts and changing the font.
Maybe they'll like this one,
maybe they'll lock this one away,
and pretend it doesn't exist.
Just do what you want brain,
it's better than this-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Oct 2018 · 1.2k
His fingertips are doused in gasoline,
setting fire to everything he sees.
Each object he touches,
all the memories collected,
ash away and fall to crimes.
He's got eternal flames inside him,
and yet his eyes remain dimmed and submissive.
He's fragile and fractured,
and as his last heart string crackled,
you could see the hope unlit.
Fires and unsettling demons
are all he even seems to remember.
He might try and set his body ablaze,
to calmly dry off that crying pain,
sadly sticks and stones withhold his embers.
He won't die, but he can't learn,
the anguish manipulated to feed a burn.
His life was hanging in a balance of dry anger,
rather the deployment of washing hurt again,
he thought would dehydrate its annual return-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Sep 2018 · 367
Corners, Mourners
My corner piece of mind,
is all that I can find,
when i look for a reason,
to pass this unhealthy treason,
so that my heart might realign.
Confinement is refined,
along a static spine,
my body's so warm and yet I'm freezing,
at times I sit, dealing with being,
each thought of mine is fined.
I need a change of season,
that can give me just one reason,
to take me up, to show me blankness,
is not a faithless shed from clearness,
nor a sign that you have weakened-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Sep 2018 · 241

I'll say this to you;
Poetry's my home, and I'm
Still an intruder-

I know it's small, so I hope y'all still like it.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Sep 2018 · 666
Fifty ropes tied, I balance, but I
Am not a balanced person anymore.
I am not a happy person anymore. I
Left the chemicals my body needed
Underneath ***** nails and screeching skin. Let me out.
Ropes, you know you'll win. I fell six times, the seventh
Endured it's wind willingly.

I am not a lucky person. I broke seven times, I have a
knack at being me, and I don't want that.
So I'll let you use me, maybe you'll
yield the cars and wield a blade
that'll slash the tires, not my heart.
Not his skin. I'm tired of liars and killers
inside me, they must abide me, and
I must obey them. I can't convey them,
or they'll condemn me.
Help me,
before i display them-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Aug 2018 · 143
Pines littered my unlively heart, once a rooted place; with branches of family, sprouts nothing more than unwanted pain.
Trees filtered the rain and hale, marching upon my veins; leaves wither now, roaming a terrain of deserts and unanswered lies.
Tumbleweeds, each one of a kind, bellow in the wind that dried my brain, refraining the saplings from hope, holes built in my body for no other process than causing emptiness, a sense of memory that was once before.
Not anymore, I feel nothing.
I do nothing.
I am nothing.
I'm inhumane, unwillingly walking to the past; lurking from the windows, one broken and one stained, I know now that my hurt was never tamed.
It just laid,  pulsing through my feet; hiding as I am now, you hear a sound from outside, a purposeful blow from the wind.
There goes my brain.
There goes my pain.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Aug 2018 · 307
Love lies bleeding, I
Angle words on waves;
Petals cannot swim

Love lies bleeding is a flower, its symbolic meaning is hopelessness(as far as I've read)
So, I'm trying to find hope in this poem?? Sorry if it's confusing, and sorry for the lack of poems.
I'm working on three songs at once, and trying to finish up a fiction story I started.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Aug 2018 · 593
He slipped too many times for it to be accidental,
Gurgling underwater; and sinking from the vessel.
He too, had supplied the deaths aboard the deck,
Where drowning and breath paddled; all atop his neck.
Do you know his struggle, until you've met the sea?
Where fish swim past on their way, and you clamber just to breathe.
Sputtering on bubbles, his exhaling's a crusade,
But please don't feel bad for him, that's just an average day-
All feedback is welcome and appreciate!!:)
Aug 2018 · 710
Confiscating; Comtemplating
He's not what you think,
And he pretends you know.
The more he confiscates the worry,
The more it seems to show.
He's walking around the lies,
As they pile against his skin.
So at night; he'll break the doors,
And flood out what's within.
Pressing the lock into his throat,
He glides the key straight to his heart.
Stop the plane in his head,
Before it can depart.
He's convinced this plain is unwelcome,
Underlying a helpless glow.
This seed planted inside him,
fixes fears no one truly knows-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Aug 2018 · 1.3k
Princes and Poison
A kingdom built on his guilt,
You'll watch his eyes slowly tilt.
Breaking under the pressure,
His pain is difficult to measure,
Do you know his heart lays still?

Pupils with shards of darkness,
And a quill profusely sharpened.
I think he missed the target,
With his soul from black to scarlet,
As it dripped atop the marble.

He doused his hands in cyanide,
To try and disintegrate his pride.
And sadly, all his colors went,
Along his shaking final breath,
He's grey and aching inside-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!!
Jul 2018 · 21.1k
He was the ocean; handsome, but yet, Impulsively damaged. He had a sandy heart to correspond his sandy eyes, the moon dismantled that omitted pride he carried at a dead weight; shoveling and reshaping it, so people would see a sandcastle statue assembled in strength. But his washed-up soul and unannounced insecurities were aware of its genuine purpose,
this beach alongside his pupils;
quicksand, he'll sink so slowly in.  Waves in his hair like ripples on his cheeks, skipping stones land at his defeat, he left notes in bottles for you, sank multiple ships for you, because he hasn't the heart to say he's desiccating with the arrival of the stars.. Retracting scars are not too far from gasps for air,  foaming words of crisis by writing in the sand, signaling a light as the last one in him died. You wouldn't understand, the calm before the storm, as valve after valve puncture him. So intoxicating as it drains him, and from within, he's drying out. Sunburns stain him, a smile restrains him,
in an inescapable drought--
All feedback is welcome
So this was posted here a couple weeks ago and, when I went to revise it, it was drafted and came out as new, I guess? :)
Jul 2018 · 10.2k
I clash into my fabric,
Like it's the waters of a bath.
Behold the ripples from my fingers,
Before I walked upon their path.
Pills are skipping stones,
That land at unsteady feet.
I'm falling, or I'm drowning,
Sleeping with torture underneath.
With Carnations at the bedside,
The yellow won't change my hue.
For their inexplicit meanings,
Are wrapped in dripping blue.
And the taps rung through my head,
Were the bath; now forming puddles.
You asked how I had left,
But you didn't notice the bubbles
This poem is about how people don't notice when others are hurt. They could feel like they're drowning, struggling to breathe, even if they're in bed, doing nothing.
(Btw yallow carnations symbolize disappointment; rejection, just if it's confusing)
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!!:):)
Jul 2018 · 4.8k
Filtered Pain
With bamboo husks scattered,
My last bones shattered.
We mourn a loss of bliss,
Draped in fear learnt to dismiss,
I call for all to gather.

The stalks once in my heart,
Intertwined; and broke apart.
I never knew how weak I'd gotten,
As my glacial mind defrosted,
And from within; resilience departed.

My thoughts cannot grow,
Pierced by what I do not know.
I'm getting colder,
I am not a soldier,
I'm a victim to the blow.

As the last bit of me was hollowed out,
I spoke the words of hope through my mouth:
"I will learn to accept the pain,
Rather than soaking it in my veins,
I'll filter it to the ground."
I've been looking up what things symbolize feelings, and I've been so excited to write with them.
Apparently, (as far as I've read) bamboo is a symbol of strength in China. I just feel like weakness is such a common emotion, and it takes so much to grow out of.
I hope this isn't confusing.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!!:):)
Jul 2018 · 2.7k
I will go where the swallows go,
following orange sunsets and
amber wings.
I will search for bottled letters,
written in the dawn of future,
for something more than bottomless worry.
I will go where the swallows go,
sleeping in the marshes' hollow,
I only hope for tomorrow.
My lungs may burst as I cover my nose and mouth,
I give my strength to the waters now.
With its will; I could too, learn to fly.
I will go where the swallows go,
because where they lead, I do not
know, but it's something better than here;
a being to cease my
Swallows are a meaning of love/hope
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Jul 2018 · 3.9k
Moths and Crows
Dirt crumbled at my feet, as moths finish off my sleep. My whole skull is uncovered, unconcerned with greener leaves.

Will this comfort ever stay? I'm losing hope as it decays. Decorate my heart with iris, because its carcass has faded grey.

Lace my body for the crows; nest my ribs, and clean my bones. Residue of torture palpitates, from within its catacombs.

Who knows when winter will come, so freeze your lungs until they're numb. Because breathing isn't worth this turmoil, and I think the dark swallowed your Sun----
All feedback is welcome and appreciated :)
Jul 2018 · 4.8k
Evacuations; Evaluations
Writer's block again,
and from return; my heart descends.
A knock, at the door?
What are they here for?
Hiding in the floors, the deaths
of my enemies,
a funeral of my thoughts,
and they were meant to stay away.
Yet you wished them here,
just so you can write them.
And they want you near,
so you can recite them.
Insightful, isn't it?
You need to invite them in,
and this time; they'll only stay
for the titles and poetry, no.
You're much too confident
that you can kick them out,
you need them;
and they want you.
Next evacuation;
hopefully you'll choose
but we know you never
I kick out my demons, and they get back in every time. I hate it.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Jul 2018 · 1.1k
We grab our blades,
and go to war.
You cut me up,
and I cut you more.
I beat your arms,
while you flood my head.
**** out your words,
and I drown instead.
Yet you've no bruises,
mine are as dim as night.
They say it's just darkness,
but they can't see your eyes.
You mutate reality,
and I only help.
"Can I get better?"
I say; and, farewell--
It's like my demon and I fighting, you know?
Idk, I'm weird.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Jul 2018 · 150
Memoir To Who?
Affable laughs glide on his throat,
they believe he's fine even if he won't.
Timidly shaking, he's achingly happy,
draining himself just to descend to the concrete,
he eternally casts his eyes with a sapphire glow.

Leave him on the sidewalk,
they move on; but he's not.
Marigold grows from his chest,
but all they see is Narcissus,
he lived very little; though it felt like a lot.

Orange was his heart,
watered from the counterparts.
Puddled with the anguish,
eventually it vanished,
I know it's quite bazaar;

but honestly,
that's his better days
by far--
I hope this isn't too confusing.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated! :):)
Jul 2018 · 91
I'm a poignant addict. Mapless, speckled floors
and uneasy voices are all I find. I'm vulnerable with the
concerning looks, and I promised I'd tell the truth this time.
Yet helplessness reached me, and hopelessly seized me, how
good can my breath be, if all it does is burn me? Words hurt
my heart, and convinced me it shouldn't be beating. The same
old ceiling won't see me sleeping. How good can life be, if it
wants to **** me?
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Jul 2018 · 654
Alien, you remain a mystery to me.
You carve upon my retinas with your ideas,
your friendless habits abduct my days.
You phrase my nightmares and phase through
my eyelashes, lasting a dawn with nothing more than
gibbous eyelids, over-ambitious? No. My heart is not nutritious,
fixing this isn't by contributing to the addiction, inflicting
absence as a base to what I do; how I think. Why are
you always at the edge of when I
All feedback is welcome!!
So; I hope this poem isn't confusing.
Alien is meant to be a character I talk to; like my mystery.
I hope that makes sense.:)
Jul 2018 · 9.9k
Cautiously, we're tied together, but that doesn't mean I'll be scared forever. With blotted thoughts you smeared my logic, blurred my memories and mixed them toxic. And honestly, I'm dying out, you smothered me with my own doubt. And as I drown, remember me, for all the things I couldn't be. Copycat, I'm losing here, and all you've done is uncover fear, you made me evil; illogical, and now I know you don't care at all. Do you make the desperate cries, logical to my demise? Involuntary refracts this soul, can you place back what you stole
from me?
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!!
Jul 2018 · 648
Restless, my eyes are turning
As I'm running from them.
I'm not one soul, I'm vulnerable, their
Noose was fit for me, do I take it? Or do I
Bleed? Again, another day; one more rhyme.
One more night envelopes me, addressed to the
Wavering pupils I cannot contain. Save me, I scream;
but they don't hear me. And even though
I cut them open, they still don't fear me----
Jun 2018 · 411
It's quicker to finish my festered,
fleeting head with this.
Biting at my skull,
I'm sold to the night's knights.
That might mean,
I could've been okay,
if I hadn't been caught walking
out of talking to everyone.
Blood stains remain a loss,
I cannot gain from losing.
Loosening that little
band around my neck,
I can't forget it,
the tighter it grows,
bruising my skin
and unraveling my
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Jun 2018 · 2.4k
Umamusingly Evaded
I'm unassured with the words I think,
slipping, skipping days, I sink.
I lost my mind in my head's black,
and died in the depth trying to get it back.
Maybe I'm a resented presence;
pressed upon malnourished intentions.
I can't find the point anymore;
I can't brim the dark anymore,
and if I submerge below my purpose,
what am I even fighting for?
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Jun 2018 · 2.8k
A poet on the run,
he's escaping his own head.
This ******, broken son,
stands to where he's fled.
Quiet; maybe it's best,
that a pen's his only friend.
They're pounding on his chest,
yet only his hand ascends.
So many words wasted,
that he should've said.
"All of y'all are faceless,
to me you're just the dead,"
Because somewhere along the journey,
his humanity faded too.
They laughed and called him 'worthy,'
as his pupils changed their hue.
"Dead, you're all dead!
Can y'all truly not see?
Take your souls, and leave my bed,
before I forget who I used to be"
This poem is about fighting mental illness.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Jun 2018 · 4.1k
Imperfect Perfections
Hey, I need your help.
Eager yellings have got me over-thinking,
linking what I think with pain,
I'm on the brink of breaking.
Each incision to my brain,
has never really completely faded.
Onto reality, formality presents us to hide everything.
Wrongly suggesting,
we'd be better investing
imperfect perfections-
I've been working on this for awhile now.
Everyone is different, And us, as a society, has said we've accepted that, but we really haven't . We only accept the differences WE understand.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
Jun 2018 · 9.4k
Oh, But Why?
A broken little heart entangles his tears,
that come from a person that he'll never see.
Wet rain boots and ***** feet make him forget
about the darkest nights. His bed and blankets
are like souvenirs from home; a house he'll never
remember. Lies and "I'm sorry"s are trapped in his
hair, dangling behind his ears, whispering such
morbid pain among his lullabies. With every cry he's
screamed for you, can you even hear him? He's afraid
to sleep alone, as the TV erases nightmares oozing from
his eyes, do you care at all? Lost toys and old photographs
make him plead; Oh, but why? He'll never understand the
love he couldn't have, the love you wouldn't give-
I made this poem a long time ago.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
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