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Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
 Jan 2023 Jeniffer Bermudez
bones
I'm surrounded by these four walls,
My thoughts bouncing off of them;
Loud and clear.

I find comfort in these four walls,
Knowing that my cries for help never leave,
That when I wail at night no one can get to me.

I also feel trapped by these four walls,
They make me feel small,
The white colour blinding me when I come up for air each time.

But these four walls know me better than anyone else here,
They know the real me.
Because when I leave these four walls every morning,
I leave as a new me.
its been a while since I've written on this website. it feels odd to be back.
I hope this poem makes sense in some way.
 Jan 2023 Jeniffer Bermudez
neha
remember when we were carefree
and nothing used to worry me
the neighbourhood was my kingdom
and the front yard was my palace

we used to play pretend
worlds of magic and fantasy
we made up spells and slayed dragons
but now i’m fighting my mind’s demons

ignorance was b l i s s
when did we become like this?
 Jan 2023 Jeniffer Bermudez
Sara
When you kissed me, I lied.

I let you kiss me because I wanted someone to love me.  
I was selfish, I wanted to soothe my craving for attention, soft and kind love.

It’s because you’re warm and safe, I still do get the urge to trust you with love.
In fact you’re handsome while so insecure.

But I shouldn’t have kissed you, because I knew I didn’t want you but your aroma.
I chewed it and played with it to spare your feelings and to ebb my shame

but believe me, I’m happy to have made your acquaintance on that awful day that appeared on paper as perfect.
On the day when the last one I loved, introduced me to you
My poems have started taking sound of a prose?, not sure where it came from
 Jan 2023 Jeniffer Bermudez
M
I never know what say  

a memory of longing
is painful as it keeps

decaying in my chest

putting my love on paper
doesn't take it away
it amplifies the sting
trying to move on

infecting the open cavity of my being

you read my words like you understand
but I'm lost in a memory of what would have been

trying to collect shattered pieces of my own self

emptied and dancing whisked into the shadows
like the end of a dream

feverishly waking up because my feelings weren't received

give them but don't get them
like as if I sent a letter of longing

never in return
I try to write but the words are my tears
drink up
and only then you will feel the same
as I do
Hungry Eyes.
Thirsty Lips.
Empty Soul.
I need you now
more than Ever.
I don’t understand
        why I am afraid
                          of the                                         dark,

It’s not that I’m
            scared of                                                it,
                                                                          
It’s what hides                                              
                    in it.                                            
                                                                          
                                                                          
The lies and secrets                                        
                        we never                                   told,

The nightmares
                         hold                                          me,

Bad choices
              we would                                            regret,

Even the future                                                is  
         not bright anymore,

However
            the dark
                          Is                                              the least of my problems.
This is my first poem. I wrote it about three years ago for an English class my freshman year of high school. It is in the style of the book Crank by Ellen Hopkins, and her style of poetry. There are two ways to read this poem.
When you hear my name,
What do you think?

Do you think of my parents,
Or the marks on my arms?
Do you notice my distance,
Or the darkness that harms?

When you see my smile,
Are you fooled?

Do you see my grin,
Or how it doesn’t reach my eyes?
Do you hear my laugh,
Or how it lies?

When you see the cuts on my arms,
Can you see the scars?

Do you watch what you say,
Or do you not notice my discomfort?
Do you see my begging,
Or do you push it off as needy?

Most do not notice,
When it finally outbursts,
Communication is always to blame.

Many can read lips,
But can not see the signs.
However those who are not blind,
Are few that can read my mind.
With mental illness sometimes it can be very difficult to express the issues we are facing. When people see me I think of what could be going through their minds. Are they thinking of my parents that are deceased, or how I am covered in scars. However there are some who can relate and can see the signs of illness. Though not everyone understands it, mental illness exist. I hope one day more people won't have to face the troubles some do now.
Mirrors,
Are just glass,
And those scales,
Are just numbers.

Everyday,
You rely on them.
To tell you your worth,
As if they can speak.

You let them control you,
Let them consume you,
Every thought,
Every moment.

You let others,
Control your actions,
For just a fleeting moment,
Of trying to fit in.

But what if I told you,
That isn’t needed.
What if I told you,
That you have been cheated.

Would you believe me?
If I told you that they lie,
Or how they do not truly see you,
So you don’t have to cry.

For that glass does not know,
The smiles you bring,
For that number does not know,
The joyous tunes you sing.

But darling just remember.

For that mirror,
Is just glass,
And those scales,
Are just numbers.
I feel that in society today all that we care about is fitting the "perfect image." Sometimes we become obsessed with it. We fail to realize our true value, and that mirrors and scales do not hold value. We all have our doubts sometimes, but I hope we can all realize our true worth ❤❤❤
The truth to it all
Is what likes to hide in bed
What likes to lie in my head
If saw the truth
You’d know it to

You would know what it is like
To have thoughts racing like cars on a track
You would know what it is like
To have such fear hidden in the cracks

You can criticize me
Say that I’m wrong
Say that I’m fine
But until you live a day in my shoes
All you do is lie

I wish I could say it all
But see I can’t do that either
For my mind has total control
And where I have no voice

Now I know what your thinking
How is that possible?
You are mind is you
And you have full power

But what if I told you
that wasn’t the case
That a mind that is ill
Can overtake its fate

I can’t control it
No matter how hard I try
For it is my mind after all
Even if all it does is lie

Because it makes it so convincing
With every word it says
Because it is yourself after all
Isn’t it

So before you say
It’s fake
A phase
You’re not trying hard enough
Remember

You wouldn’t last a day in my shoes
With a mind like mine
With it’s constant fear
And it’s constant lies

Then you’ll finally understand
Why I hide
This poem has to do with mental illness. When people tell me that I’m faking or it’s a phase I want to yell this to their faces, but you can see why I can’t do that. (Unfiltered poem I forgot was on my phone)
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