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Annie McLaughlin Apr 2016
some nights I want to stop trying
*shh, as soon as you stop crying
Annie McLaughlin Apr 2016
it hurts
is it supposed to hurt ?
                 if you knew what i've been doing
                 you would not say "i love you"
                                                       each time failing
                                                       has lowered my confidence another tries worth
                                                                                                                          why is this pain
                                                                                                                          so relieving ?
i fail even at harming myself
Annie McLaughlin Apr 2016
I'd rather write a moody poem that has found it's home
Than a joyfull one with no place to go
Annie McLaughlin Apr 2016
my, my, unharmed skin
what, what should I do to you?
Not only only happy dreams come true
Blood, blood, blood, blood does, too
piece of, of paper
what should I - I write on you?
maybe of he who loves me,
who?
untouched-touched bare skin
what shall I clothe you wi-th?
none will look - look either way
new, new, new life born. . .
what should make of, of you?
criti - criti - criticism will still come
my, my, my, my unharmed skin
forgive me for using - using these past tense
wrote this in class today.
Annie McLaughlin Apr 2016
I want to look at myself and think **** and beautiful
And somehow I think I can get there by bending over a toilet puking out the barely 200 calories in which I just consumed
Annie McLaughlin Apr 2016
try, try, try once more
you can't be perfect but don't be a bore
try, try, try and see
one day soon this fear will leave
try, try, with all your might
maybe one day you will be thin and lite
try, try, try the pain
pretty is still pretty when pretty's in vain
Annie McLaughlin Apr 2016
I understand this is hard for you
A woman whom could not govern her own
So as to reside in a greater power
In which this hope has rescued you
I understand your concern
That I will have no such one to place my blame on
But oh, you must see
That much more profound happiness
May very well be found elsewhere
In a world that which does not provide
Such an easy excuse to these troubles
You must understand, simply as I do,
That one or both are wrong,
So that these endless quarrels are useless
Let me believe in my logic and you in your fairytales
And fulfill your hunger for strife
Elsewhere
You might get it. You might not. That's okay.
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