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 May 2018 alexa
ali
the silent type
 May 2018 alexa
ali
tears should be made of glass
because they're more transparent,
easy to see my soul,
but they aren't
because when they would fall,
they would shatter,
and no longer could that
monster inside
curl its talons around my heart
if i wasn't suffering alone in silence
i have a silent type of sadness.. that's what makes it so destructive
 May 2018 alexa
LS
when i was 7 i cracked my head open with glass
and blood covered my head
i didn't go to the hospital
i didn't even tell anyone

i never saw the glass really coming
it happened in just a split second
i hardly even felt it
it stung
but i was too worried about the glass
and how i was going to clean it
before my parents came home
my mom always liked to keep her house clean
so i had to pick it up

when i was 13
my best friend had her first heartbreak
i was doing homework
because i was so behind
but she called me crying
and asked if she could come over
i held her for two hours
while she sobbed into my sweatshirt
and when she left
i didn't even get a thank you

i try so hard to make everyone feel content and happy
then sit in my room
and wonder why i'm so sad
but it's because
all i do is bleed for people
and they never even hand me a bandaid
 May 2018 alexa
Letters from Lia
She was blinded by everything
She is in the abyss of her thoughts
She is sinking and drowning

She cried so hard that she lost her voice
She cried trying to escape her own agony and pain
She imprisoned herself in the her own chains

She is trapped between her own nightmare and daydream
She is confused by the light and the darkness
She is in the middle of a boundless maze, lost and nowhere to go

She let herself be devoured by suffering and  endless torture, be paralyzed by it
She can neither move nor speak

She is alone.
 May 2018 alexa
Meera
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence
 May 2018 alexa
skyler
intoxicated
it's easy to forget you

sober
you're all i think about

clear choice isn't it?
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