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I have fallen a thousand times
And it was hard enough
To dig a foundation
Now I'm stronger than ever
What doesn't **** you make you stronger
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 Feb 2019 Amaranthine
Perry
Garden
 Feb 2019 Amaranthine
Perry
I will use your tears
to water my mind,
and grow you a poem
Anytime that you cry
Now that the sun has finally set,
And the moon shall no longer rise.
The moth will drift away from the flame;
The prophet knew that this friendship won't survive.
Memories that turned into ashes and flew away with the wind,
Treacherous betrayal often hurts more than the sharp end of a knife.
Broken promises and white lies, no more secrets left to exchange,
Except for a heavy heart that'll cherish the past till the end of time.
Saudade; A Portuguese word which is mostly considered to be untranslatable roughly refers to the soul-rending sadness, flavored with longing and melancholy.
 Jun 2018 Amaranthine
Pagan Paul
.
The pained and broken often say
that the answers lay in the dark.
Amongst the old shattered pieces
each little torture leaves its mark.

Each scar born holds a sad story
containing fragments of feeling.
Therein lays the whole of truth
and the first spark of a healing.

So what of the shining light
that is supposed to show the way.
All the answers lay in the dark,
so the pained and broken say.



© Pagan Paul (28/06/18)
.
Exploring some of the aspects of depression to try
to understand my own BPD and depression better.
.
 Jun 2018 Amaranthine
Dev
trapped
 Jun 2018 Amaranthine
Dev
I am trapped here,
within the confines
of you.

This metal cage
you have me locked in,
your protection...

It's smothering me,
killing me,
sending me to my grave.

You seem to have lost the key somewhere
in your belief that you are right.
and that I am wrong.

"live! live!" you cry, whilst
i sit here, dying.
because this is killing me

I could be cliche,
tell you why the caged bird sings,
because of her dreams and hopes.

that despite her hardships,
she's happy, because she
still can sing

but what good will it do
if the caged bird only lies
and cries in her bed at night
when no one can hear her

The truth is
the caged bird dies
every time, because
she never learns to fly.
I need to make my own mistakes, I need to make my own decisions, I need to live my life instead of just witnessing it.
What happens when the good girl goes bad
like the spoiled milk she left out?
Because I couldn't seem to get up.
I think it was something about acknowledging that I'm alive, I'm here.
Wouldn't it all be easier if I wasn't?

When the good girl goes bad
because she worked her *** off on that paper and only got a C.

When the good girl goes bad
because the world doesn't treat her right,
but I guess it must because that's
how come I'm the good girl.
Not my depressed sister sitting in her room;
not my other sister running around, destroying everything I had to work for;
most definitely
not my other sister who always seemed to be your favorite but is now smashing plates in our backyard,
'cause I guess that's what happens if you get too close to you.

When the good girl goes bad,
you get angry because
I'm supposed to be your perfect child
not supposed to be
your ***** up child
your lonely child
your lazy child
your anxious child
not supposed to be
your good for nothing child
your dysfunctional child
your doesn't give a **** about anything anymore child.
why don't I ******* give a **** about anything anymore?

When the good girl goes bad
your life falls apart,
because clearly
you had enough to deal with already,
because clearly
this is all my fault,
because clearly
you don't have the time to face your good girl
and
because clearly
that's all on me.

When the good girl goes bad
because you left her out on the counter all those years, sitting there to rot.
And though I know that you can't waste your time putting it away, 'cause you never cared for it anyway,
maybe you shouldn't have bought the milk if you didn't want to drink it.
And I know the milk should take care of itself
but I tried and that only works for a couple of years
before the good girl gone bad falls far off the counter, spills across the floor,
and the only thing left is to throw that nasty old milk away
because your bread, eggs, oil, etc. need your attention
and it's just too late for the good girl.

When the good girl goes bad
because she never asked to be the good girl
or maybe I did, I don't really remember,
but not like this.
I just wanted to be loved
but little did I know that
the good girl just sits there
keeping herself afloat,
but the boat can't guide itself if it wasn't given eyes.
The boat can't patch itself if you keep telling it its still brand new
when its really old, broken, and covered in holes.
You shouldn't put a boat in the water if you know its going to sink,
but I guess you only really need a couple good boats
so you can just toss the good girl.

When mama's little good girl goes bad,
she feels guilty
because she was told she'd always be
the good girl.
Though, its hard being the good girl when you don't have any windshield wipers for your tears at night.
But the tears at night aren't supposed to exist
because
I'm still mama's mother ******' good girl,
just...
please pretend I haven't gone bad.
I added to what was originally posted. I was having some technical issues and decided to just post what I had before, but this is the full poem (5/16/18)
 May 2018 Amaranthine
zb
my heart is a violin
with too many strings

play my heartstrings
let your fingers pull my emotions
rest your hand on the back of my neck
i cannot make anything beautiful on my own
but sweetheart you can make me sing so softly

hold me close
dear i'll always love you
feel my skin, polished-smooth
warm under your hands
and know i'm yours

calm my frazzled strings
soothe my worn-out pegs,
drawn tighter and tighter and tighter
straining so deeply to hold
the strings in place
let me cling to you
let me take solace and peace
for but a few moments

my heart is a violin with too many strings,
played by too many people
my strings have been drawn taught
my body has grown tired
my music has grown dull
but with your gentle hands
encompassing the surface of my heart
i can learn to trust again
i can learn to sing again
and sweetheart i can sing so sweetly
for you
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