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 Feb 2015 Proviquis
ryn
Bottled
 Feb 2015 Proviquis
ryn
.
•...mouth
wide  op-
en, glis-
tening...
in the li-
ght•aw-
aiting to
swallow
this lone
piece of parch-
ment•on it i've scribbled
all my heart could write•bea-
ring sweet nothings, sure and si-
lent•now... take this scroll•down
your neck... it'll effortlessly slide...
•to the core of your very soul•my
message would  follow your gui-
de•your opening i'd then gladly
seal •so your contents would...
remain guarded • time is now
to set adrift all i feel...•....now
ride the waves through jour-
ney uncharted•let the curr-
ents take you• let the tides
and winds be your friends
• ...  my quiet well wishes
would see you through •
in hopes that you would
be received by my love's
deserving... and...  open



*hands•
I’m a functionally depressed person.
I’ve self-diagnosed myself as this
Because severe depression makes
Me feel like I should be lying
Around my house all day and
Although I’d rather wrap myself
In the blankets of my bed,
I push myself out into the day.
Dressed in an outfit that’s not
Sweatpants and a t-shirt, but
Instead, jeans and a sweater.
Long sleeves to cover the cuts
On my arm, or many bracelets
With no colors that match my
Outfit but they cover my
Self-inflicted wounds from
The night before.
I fake a smile at people
That I pass by during the day
And I hope that they can’t
See through my eyes and into
My head. I hope they can’t read
The suicidal thoughts swimming
Around, filling the lack of serotonin
That I’m missing from my brain.
Their eyes feel like lasers shooting
Into my brain like bullets that I dream
Of releasing from the chamber
To settle in my head.
I’m a functionally depressed person
Because I function in society
Without anyone knowing that
Inside, I’m already dead.
I've had a really bad day.
 Feb 2015 Proviquis
mûre
I said it, because it felt so nice to say and
because I can say it very well
-in the moment I meant it
but it's a bitter familiar spell
I've memorized the phonetic stitches the
spacing that knits a magic fleece that
when draped over the shoulders of the mightiest
turns them back to boys, gives full release
the belief
that love, real love, can be-

I can teach any man to fall in love with love...
just not in love with me.
i believe that life is a blessing and a curse
because i have felt so much joy and so much pain
i think life has a way of making us fear death
because there is always so much loss and so little gain
but from what ive had and what was taken
and what i know and what i assume
there is always going to be a brighter tomorrow
so much brighter than all this gloom
and i say that with my head held high
not fearing death nor wanting it to come
but living life like its meant to be lived
for our God, our Savior, the son.
what is beauty if not the setting sun?
Or the blooming of flowers in the spring?
What of waves dancing across the ocean?
Or of the songs that all mockingbirds sing?
Are people capable of acts divine?
Capable of beauty replication?
Or in the eyes of Gods are we but swine?
We were not destined for such creation
But, it's your hand that paints the setting sky
You're the warmth that lets plants flourish once more
Your heart is the beat that all things go by
The conductor of its musical score
You are life and all that there is to see
All that is known and lies in mystery
Hi Mrs Dowd it's Carlos from your creative writing class. Adding this here just in case you come across this in a google search.
 Feb 2015 Proviquis
Sara
9:03 pm:* I stand for nothing and fall for everything, but I've never fallen so hard for something as I have for you. I haven't wrote you anything in awhile and I think it's because I feel like I have you safely hidden in the middle of my palm in my fist, but lately I feel you slipping through my fingers. Are we okay?

9:46 pm: I've realized that I have trapped myself in a world of art being with you, everything I touch feels as if I'm experiencing it for the first time, but when I touch you, it's as if I'm touching fire, and baby, I haven't stopped lighting matches just to feel close to you.

10:21 pm: After our first love died out, others taught me love with bruises and punches but you haven't laid a hand on me and I can't decide if you don't love me or if this is true love. I'm leaning towards true love. I'm torn between showing you the darkest parts of me or shining a light on my cracked skin to avert your eyes from my scars. Does that make sense to you?

10:38 pm: This silence burns more than the ***** seeping down my throat could ever and I'm shaking at the thought of your mouth forming the words "goodbye". I've been built on the words "sorry I love someone else" and "this isn't going to work out" and if you listen closely, you can hear each person whisper those words that cut like knives when I cry. I sound like thunderstorms because I'm only a natural disaster, nothing less and nothing more.

11:02 pm: I wish I was bulletproof to the shots of sadness that are fired at me, but I am left convulsing with panic attacks and heart palpitations. Is it weird to want to die of a heart attack? Is it weird to want to be one of your cigarettes that you bite between your teeth? I want to be on top of your lips. I want you to breathe me in. Nothing makes me more afraid than you diving head first into a sea of lies about how I am cold and distant, because I've never felt more close to someone as I do to you. You'll find that I am only shattered glass, but do I ever want to be more for you. I want to be better for you, I want to be able to see happiness pouring out of your eyes so I can drown in them.

11:44 pm: You're a broken home but I still want to retire inside of you. I'll rebuild you if you'd hand me the tools. You don't even have to do so, I will fix you so you stand stronger than you ever have. You are a piece of art painted drunk and I want to kiss your canvas until my lips have left an imprint on you and we merge as one mess. This city rains too much and I have to get out and be with you, even if it does rain too much where you are, you shine brighter than the sun ever could.

1:20 am: I've taken 5 more shots and I can't stop sobbing your name. If I were ever to run into you I feel like it would be in the emergency room, but I'd still kiss you. I've attempted to write how much I love dating the girl of my dreams, I hope I'm still yours.

2:07 am: The slashes in my wrist match the lines in my walls and I can't stop staring at them because you always just say you're fine and I know you're not. I want to be so much more than this pile of dust, I want you to think I hung each star in the sky for you and that I created each galaxy to try and show you my love for you. You don't have to read all of this, my words are small and empty no matter how much of myself I pour into them, but I hope you believe them for once. I want to be so much and so little at the same time. I'm at war with my body and you're holding up a white flag for me and I don't know if I can recover. Somehow I managed to find myself with a handful of pills, just like 3 years ago when I attempted suicide to an Ed Sheeran song. You can say I love you to me but when I say it to you, my lips ache and my head fills with warning signs because it's never been this real before.

4:31 am: I woke up with uneven heart beats because I think you've started to regret me and I'd be lying if I said it never happens. I hope to one day convince you that you put the air in my lungs every day and I don't think I'd wake up every morning without you. Those are two things I'm very sure of. I don’t really remember what I lived for before you, I guess I wrote ****** poetry and thought drowning was fun in some sick way. I’ve been thinking about the way you’re going to kiss me, I’ve been prescribed antidepressants for 3 years and they’ve never really worked but i think your lips could cure me. I remember when we first started dating, i thought skin was supposed to be destroyed and i think thats when you realized that this wasn’t a two person relationship, it was you and I and my depression. I didn’t think the small of my back would ever crave being touched by someone as it does when i think about you. You say you see stars in my eyes and I pray to god that they don’t turn into black holes. I’m letting you pick apart my glass heart piece by piece and i never knew you had such strong hands until i didn’t see a cut on them while you examined such a shattered mess. God, I’m trying to put into words how much i love you and i know you think i don’t mean them and I’m searching for the right words but every time i take a step forward i take two steps back but I’ll keep on pushing because baby, you’re worth more than I can put into words.
 Feb 2015 Proviquis
Marclesza Gee
You tell us to be who we are
But then judge us when you see our scars.
 Feb 2015 Proviquis
Kevy Almighty
When it comes to the point where you pick on others for no reason,
My friend,
You have a problem.
When you find  that you don't laugh unless someone is  hurt,
My friend,
You have a problem.
When you can't be funny unless you're making fun of people,
My friend,
You have a problem.
When the only time you feel good about yourself is when  you  bring someone else down,
My friend,  
You have a problem.
Stop bullying.
 Feb 2015 Proviquis
jhssn
Anesthetic
 Feb 2015 Proviquis
jhssn
There was a girl.
A girl I once  knew
who never felt cold.
Never felt cold when
taking a shower in
freezing water.
Never felt cold
when she would stand
at the bus stop in 6
degree weather with barely
anything on. Never felt
the slightest bit of cold
even when she layed down
in the snow for 5 hours.
In fact, she loved the cold.
She embraced it; she loved how
cold the winter was in
Michigan. She loved feeling
the icy wind hit her face and
body when she wasn't wearing
much. She loved the
way it made her hands and face feel
anesthetic . It made her feel alive, refreshed
even, and
that’s all she ever craved for.
But she still never
felt how cold it actually was.
But why?
Why did she love
it that much?
Why couldn't she ever
feel frigid like everyone else?
Why love something,
something  you cant really feel?
Because even though she couldn't
feel how shivery cold
it was on the outside,
maybe that’s how her heart
was. Maybe that’s how
she felt on the inside.
**Numbing cold.
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