Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Beaux Aug 2019
Summer after our senior year
The best days of our lives
The best parties
The best dreams
The best memories

It was supposed to be
The best days of our lives

Not enough was done
Not enough was said
Not enough was together

Together
Together we’ve laughed
Together we’ve hugged
Together we’ve dreamed
Together we’ve believed
Together we’ve loved

Together doesn’t last forever

The best days of our lives
Were spent apart

The best days of our lives
Were spent away

The best days of our lives
Are gone

These were supposed to be
The best days of our lives
My poems usually have a repeating line or rhythm. This one is more chaotic because the way i feel is chaotic. I hope you enjoy anyways.
Beaux Aug 2019
Leave me alone
I screamed it into the night

Leave me alone
I cried it into my pillows

Leave me alone
I begged it into the dark

Leave me alone

So they did

They left me alone
  Jun 2019 Beaux
Elliot
We don’t see the carrots to be cut,
We see the sharp knife that could cut us.

We don’t see the bridge,
We see the other side of the railings.

We don’t see painkillers,
We see medication we could drown ourselves in.

We don’t see the train,
We see the tracks we could lay on.

We don’t see the nice view,
We see the cliff's edge we could jump off.
  Jun 2019 Beaux
Hidden Glade
FIRST NAME LAST NAME

I just wanted to say I.
I'm sorry.

I didn't mean for you to ever listen to these.

I didn't mean to let go of the edge.
I didn't think I'd actually go through with it.
But here we are, and that only means one thing.
I finished it.

It's hard to find these words to say,
Without sounding cheesy or stupid.
All I know is that I'm not a burden anymore.

Is Dec 12th. About 12:30 or so.
I could've called you instead.
I could've- I could've-

I could've done it.
  Jun 2019 Beaux
Outsider
Pain used to inspire me to write.
Words would flow easily through my fingers,
substituting my tears.
I used to draw my pain. I painted my canvas with feelings,
and emotions, that words could not express.
If things started to feel hopeless, music was my saviour.
I would write lyrics, amplifying the words with sad tunes,
spilling my deepest, darkest thoughts.
But now, the pain is so strong, it is all I can think of.
My thighs are covered in scars,
from when the pain got so bad, that I needed to bleed it out.
Now, I realize, that I have drained myself.
There´s no tears, no words, no paint, no blood
left,
to spill.
I hope that whoever can relate to this, keeps on going. Don´t give up, even if it feels hopeless. There´s always a way out. Suicide does not have to be one of them.
Next page