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I've had relationships with many others after you
And in each one it's you I see all the way through.
I sometimes see your eyes or your smile
And that's what makes it all worthwhile.

But the boy I met the other day
He makes your image fade to gray.
Because when I look into his blue eyes
They aren't like yours in disguise.
hey
Delivered 10:36 p.m.

we haven’t talked in a while
Delivered 10:36 p.m.

weeks
Delivered 10:36 p.m.

maybe even months, actually
Delivered 10:37 p.m.

truth is, i can’t remember the last time we talked
Delivered 10:37 p.m.

and, wow this going to sound crazy, but
Delivered 10:38 p.m.

i saved our last conversation. i keep reading over it, trying to figure out where i went wrong
Delivered 10:38 p.m.

but i can never find it
Delivered 10:38 p.m.

i can never find that one place where i ******* up, where i said something wrong, where i did something to tear us apart, or make you hate me.
Delivered 10:39 p.m.

and it *****, it really does.
Delivered 10:39 p.m.

matter of fact, “*****” isn’t a strong enough word to describe how awful it is
Delivered 10:40 p.m.

or how awful i feel
Delivered 10:40 p.m.

hurt
Delivered 10:40 p.m.

betrayed
Delivered 10:40 p.m.

used
Delivered 10:40 p.m.

and do you want to know what the worst part is?
Delivered 10:41 p.m.

the worst part, aside from the fact that i can’t figure out where i went wrong, is that, even after all of this
Delivered 10:41 p.m.

i still love you
Delivered 10:42 p.m.

i have loved you, i love you now, and i’m pretty **** sure i will love you in the future.
Delivered 10:43 p.m.

and i guess that’s half of what i came here to say.
Delivered 10:43 p.m.

but it’s obvious that you don’t feel the same.
Delivered 10:44 p.m.

and so i suppose that the other half of what i came here to say
Delivered 10:44 p.m.

is goodbye.
Delivered 10:44 p.m.

and though i’m sure that all your love for me has faded
Delivered 10:44 p.m.

and that my name hasn’t slipped off your ******* long time
Delivered 10:45 p.m.

all i ask of you is one thing
Delivered 10:45 p.m.

just don’t forget me.
**Delivered 10:46 p.m.
okay so i've wanted to do a poem like this for a while now, and i absolutely love how it turned out. thoughts or feedback?
Gym
Sore arms,
a sweaty mess.

I'll show you I'm not fat.


just wait...
You felt like warm tea with a shot of hard whiskey.
You are my hot liquor and want to down the bottle.
You made me drunk, leaving my body loose and my soul exposed.
I guess that is why I gave myself to you.

You are not here anymore but now I am an alcoholic.
Every day I would have more and more the closer we got to our one year.
I fell in love with my drunken state of having you around.
I became blind to the fights and the fading of your love.
Its been a week since I last felt the burn going down my throat.
I claw at my neck hoping it would feel the same.
Nothing will ever feel the same.
So 2014 has pretty much ****** 100% since it started. It's one of those things that I silently think to myself "It can't get any worse" but then catch myself because I know that's not true. Every few weeks it seems I am being dealt another situation to deal with in addition to the extreme burden I am already carrying around.

Life is so overwhelming right now I almost cannot even think about it all at once.  I do not want to trigger myself into having a panic attack. I am doing my best to take it day by day, sometimes even hour by hour. I do not even know which way to turn anymore or how to even start to cope.

I really have tried to trust others and rely on them for help and support but…honestly…maybe I do not know how to do that? Am I picking the wrong people or is it me??? Seems like I am there for everybody else but nobody is here for me now.

New symptoms, worrying about what it all means…dealing with ****** healthcare…doctors not as concerned as I am…seriously how much blood is normal to cough up before I can get a Dr to give a ****! Going on Day 3 of feeling like I have been hit by a semi-truck. I am physically and mentally exhausted.

I surrendered…
 May 2014 Abstract Colleague
meg
this is not some love story
a boy will not come and save you and he will not kiss the scars on your thighs.

this is not a movie
someone isn't going to save you from your demons,
or think your illness and addiction is beautiful.

this is not a fairytale
you will not save yourself from the voices,
or the jabbing pain in your stomach
or the shaking of your body for that quick release.

this is real life
and nothing will save you except for the pills that the doctors put you on that helps you with your mood swings, and unwillingness to get out if bed every morning.  

this is not poetry.

self harm scars are not lovely.
sadness is not beautiful.
and demons are not glorious.
stop trying to make mental illness a great thing to have.
so if you glorify self harm and sadness, stop being a ******* ******* because it isn't ******* beautiful.

nothing is beautiful about voices in your mind that tell you to take a blade to your skin, and nothing is beautiful about morning rolling around and you contemplate being "sick", or jumping out into traffic just in time to get hit by a bus just so you can escape life.
this is not beautiful.
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