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 Jan 2014 N0thing
Ink
Too, I am Not
 Jan 2014 N0thing
Ink
I'm too young
To know
To care
To understand
To bare
The situation and its importance

I'm too short
To reach
High enough for the stars
To ever make it far
In life
Because I extract it into bleach

I'm too ugly
To understand
How hard people work
To keep themselves neat
With perfectly pressed shirts
And gorgeous pearl eyes
I'll never realize
Never stop the lies

I'm too stupid
To care
About people
And what they wear
What they say
What they do
How they think of me
What they prove

I'm too
Fat
Idiotic
A druggy;
Alcoholic
High on the world
And drunk on loneliness
An alien
That is their specimen

I'm not.

I'm older than you can imagine,
Reaching farther than what you see,
Beautiful, for I am God's creation,
I just think a little differently.

If you're afraid of the unknown
Or of "things" who differ
The world will move on without you
While I run ahead
Quicker
Than light can travel

(Is that "too" much for you?)
 Jan 2014 N0thing
Lisa Mendoza
you told her
scars are there to be a reminder
that she once survived
death (and won)

but she knew
deep in her heart,
those gashes on her wrists
are there to remind her
that she once wished for
death (but failed)
—L.M.
(written last Dec. 7, 2013)
what's the use of a heart when your heart gets broken.
what's the use of breathing when you leave me breathless.
what's the use of a soul if your soul gets stolen.
what's the use of speech when you don't even speak to me.
what's the point of feelings if someone dislikes you for them.
what's the point of you and me if you know that it will never work out, but i thought it would.
so here i lay crying on the floor "i loved you and i still do". but you go and forget my feelings for you...
Her Dad was a drunk,
Her Mom was an addict,
Her parents kept her locked in an attic.

Her only friend,
Was a little toy bear,
It was old and worn out,
And had patches of hair.

She always talked to it,
When no one's around,
She lies there and hugs it,
Not a peek of sound.

Until her parents,
Unlock the door,
Some more and more pain,
She'll have to endure.

A bruise on her leg,
A scar on her face,
Why would she be in such a horrible place?

But she grabs her bear,
And softly cries,
She loves her parents,
But they want her to die.

She sits in a corner,
Quiet, but thinking,
"God, why? Why is my life always sinking?"

Such a bad life,
For a sad little kid,
She'd get beaten and beaten,
For anything she did.

Then one night,
Her Mom came home high,
The poor child was hit and slapped,
As hours went by.

Then her Mom suddenly,
Grabbed for a blade,
It was sharp and pointy,
One that she made.

She ****** the blade,
Right into her chest,
"You deserve to die,
You worthless pest!"

The Mom walked out,
Leaving the girl slowly dying,
She grabbed for her bear,
And again started crying.

Police showed up,
At the small little House,
They quickly barged in,
Everything was as quiet as a mouse.

One officer slowly,
Opened a door,
To find the sad little girl,
Lying on the floor.

It must have been bad,
To go through so much harm,
But at least she died,
With her best friend in her arms.
 Jan 2014 N0thing
Lisa Mendoza
I won’t lie.
(The truth is,)
(I) have never felt
More annoyed
than by the
(Like)s of (you.)
—L.M.
What is this?
I am restless
I don’t know why
But, I feel no interest
Just force a smile upon

What is this?
I see no color
But, I am not blind
Oh, I see, the world is black
No love, no affection

What is this?
This emptiness I never felt before, or
I did but chose to ignore
And live a life of mere glass that can shatter
Shatter at the slightest touch

What is this?
I am breathless
As if someone is following me
Or is it that I want to catch someone
How do people smile so easily?
Live so freely
Will ‘they’ answer me?
If I ask
The reason for life to be bestowed upon us

What is this?
I feel alone, separated, anxious
I am scared
I want to live
No perhaps I don’t
Yes  
No matter where I search
Whom I ask
They give no reply

What is this?
I am eager
I want someone to share my feelings with
I searched here and there
Tried to open up to many
But ended up hurt

What is this?
Ah! I see, perhaps end
Searching for someone I came across this question
Why is life bestowed upon us?
I am alone
I want someone
I call out will all my might
But no one listens
I am tired
I will just live like others
Yeah

What is this?
In the end I give up
That someone I want to share my feelings, myself with
Is no where
Oh! I give up
I am really afraid
Scared
I am as if bond by invisible chains of
Of what
Hatred, love, anger?
No perhaps emptiness

What is this?
I am alone
In this darkness days pass
But no one comes
Please come
Someone
I want to open up
Share
I can no longer live alone
Why
Why is life in the first place?
I don’t want jealousy to devourer me
Please I am alone

What is this?
I feel attracted to someone or
Perhaps I am forcing myself to be attracted
Wanting to live on imaginary lies
Yes
Lies
All are lies
This life is itself
Having no reason to exist
Is there an afterlife
A happy one
Where I can find someone to open up
If there is I wish to die
Oh! God forgive me
But I can no longer
Handle these injuries, pain, and suffering
Not anymore
I am gradually giving up
On the believe on the very existence of happiness
But,
Please, if my angel exists let my voice
My hearts reaches you and find me
Before I am devoured by this darkness



For,
I give up on this life of mine
 Jan 2014 N0thing
Ink
You are always truly alone
No one can be there for you
Unless you are there for yourself

You are not the width of your waist
Nor the flaws on your face
Nor your hand that can't reach a shelf

You are not the sound
Of your helpless snores
Or the laugh you enjoyed letting out

You are not the anger
That takes over your eyes
Or the guilt in your heart after a shout

You are not the tears
You want to but have not cried
For fear of being weak

You are not the words
You whisper when you're alone
That make the world sound bleak

You are not a body
With a soul
But a soul that has been given a human shell

You are the life
You claim to live
You are your own living hell

You are your own nightmare
Your own problems
And your own savior from it all

You are a spirit
That can run forever and free
Yet you choose to burden the fall
 Jan 2014 N0thing
Ink
Pounds
 Jan 2014 N0thing
Ink
Everyday
The weight machine
Tells me a higher number

I think it's broken
Because surely
My soul is weakening and thinning out

Into nothingness
And doesn't that have a weight?
Or is this feeling inside me
Merely pretend?

— The End —