Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 May 2014 Ann cobb
Ariel Taverner
I have cages below me
I float above them
My antigravitational force being my belief that I am superior
U take my blade and look at the captives in my cages
It seems to be close to feeding time
They are
Throwing themselves agaisnt my cages
So I take out my blade
Letting them feed on the drops of blood pouring down my arm
They are sated

Lityle so they know

 May 2014 Ann cobb
There is nothing more comforting than warmth
Rays of sun painting my cheeks red
Blistering campfires that tickle my toes
My own blood trickling down my arm
As I looked into the bathroom mirror I felt nothing but
Toxic words that had been spat at me disappeared down the sink
A blurry fist fight faded to memory
My black eye and bleeding nose ceased to pain me
All I felt was the red blanket coating my arm
It doesn't hurt
I feel nothing
Silver pens write terrible tragedies in red ink
But they also write happier endings for troubled minds
I am my own demise
My destruction
There is no conductor and my train is off the rails
Spinning, racing out of control
And stopping at a red light
Red lights that pool into one in my palm
Translucent, reflecting the light above me
I see red
I feel warm
I taste fate
She can't hurt me as long as I am warm

I will leave this world with no blood on my hands but my own.
 May 2014 Ann cobb
Jess Smith
I keep my sadness padlocked
until it festers and rots under my skin like a disease.
I'm dying from the inside out
We, as a society,
should step back
and evaluate this word.

What are we doing
that causes people
to cut themselves
or throw themselves
off of bridges?

Are we really so selfish
as to overlook these people?

They are fighting a battle
that we can't even fathom
playing out in their heads.
The casualties, the blood,
everything is real to them.

I will continue to utter,
"We must help"
until it becomes a roar
of people demanding
to give them a second thought.

We must help them.

No more lives should
slip through the cracks.
 May 2014 Ann cobb
Yoni Sav
This is a cry for help
Not just another metaphor on death
not describing how I hurt myself
Not a poem about pain
or thinking I'm insane

This is a cry for help
Save me, Before I't's just too late
before I do something I regret
before the note is signed
before I lose my mind

This is a cry for help
I may be a combination of depressed and angry at myself right now. I may be tired to the point I can't fully control my actions.
 May 2014 Ann cobb
 May 2014 Ann cobb
and I know
I said I’d be better
and I would
do more,
but honestly,
everything is
falling apart
and I have no
to catch the
broken pieces;
I don’t have
the patience
to tend to the cuts
on my hands
after fumbling
with shards
of my broken
and I’m
losing pieces of
my mind
every single
I’m so scared;
nothing makes sense
and I don’t even
want to be here
 May 2014 Ann cobb
Poetic T
Eternal tears in a lake that never
fills, only the eye of eternity drops
tears of time, which will never run

For time is eternal and so the tears
will always fall from the eye that
watches everything and all.

Tears dropped for time weeps as it
watches life, death never ending,
this lake will never fill, as it has all
eternity as the eye of time once
again drops a tear.
 May 2014 Ann cobb
After the first
Never again
The second
The same,
Regret, pain
The third
Disappointment, shame
The fourth
A piece of paper with a name
The fifth and I’m officially insane
Confusing clouds, constant rain
Begin to drain

Thoughts, a fact
A pact
To myself
My rapidly deteriorating
Physical, mental, emotional health

31 tablets, 52
What difference does
A few
More make
Another mistake
I break,
Crack, smash
Like China
A million pieces
Despair fills the air
I lay, unconscious
Without a care
In the world

Sleeping tablets
And anti depressants
Desperately searching
For the essence
Of a hopeful soul

Anticipation, frustration,
A safe place
With locks on the inside
Reflecting on the times
I’ve tried
Cried, lied
To break free

After the first
Never again
The second
The same
Regret, pain
The third
Disappointment, shame
The fourth
A piece of paper with a name
The fifth
And I’m officially insane

It stops here
Succumbed with fear
As I walk, tread, carefully
Undress the mess,
That is me.

2010 ©
Next page