Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Oct 2013 apathy
maybella snow
i threw myself at my wall
over and over
kicks punches
hit it with my knees
elbows, shoulder, head
i wasnt trying to break through
not possible with
double brick walls
i guess it just
symbolized how
helpless i feel
when you say you dont eat
or sleep and can hardly move
i hid behind bruises and cuts
it hurts to move
i'm tired
but i'm still alive
and am willing to help
don't **** yourself
it'll **** me
so tired
 Oct 2013 apathy
sara
ugly
 Oct 2013 apathy
sara
i like to look in the mirror
and dissect the person staring back
until features are just jagged lines
and stolen shapes
protruding chin
witchy nose
curved into a long *****
a beard of pimples
surrounding small lips
and a mustache to strike envy into any man
caterpillar eyebrows
darker than the hair on my head
which is dry and flat and falls into my face
chipmunk cheeks
practically falling out of wide cheekbones
long legs
too skinny
knobby knees
hairy white tree trunks
that i suppose pass for legs
spider fingers
no curves
just a pale board
with eyes and skin covered in mold
and red
always red
from
tears
always tears
society's worst fear stares back at me
"ugly"
my own words
i say them to myself now
i see your point
i wrote this on the back of my math homework and then forgot about it
-
but listen to me now
if you're reading this
you're ******* beautiful
don't let anybody ever tell you otherwise
and if they try to tell you otherwise
eat them.
 Oct 2013 apathy
Nizar Qabbani
Light is more important than the lantern,
The poem more important than the notebook,
And the kiss more important than the lips.
My letters to you
Are greater and more important than both of us.
The are the only documents
Where people will discover
Your beauty
And my madness.
 Oct 2013 apathy
Arun Ajmera
Seasons
 Oct 2013 apathy
Arun Ajmera
Summertime, Billy Holiday plays
As the hot sun spreads like butter over the trees.
The grass tickles the toes of children at play
Before a chill comes to breezes that blow.

Wind combs trees, heavy handed
Discarding leaves like so much flotsam adrift at sea.
Their bony crunch underfoot reminds us
Of the cold, dead future in store.

Deserted of life, brown and bare winter cold cracks limbs;
They stare with angry faces,
Moaning as the wind wrenches again and again.
Cloaked in ice, they hold buds alive deep inside.

Exuberantly pops the blossoms luring
The bumblebee to work for free.
Erasing the death that came before
And ensuring, after spring, a fruitful summer.

The seasons' constant cycle of birth, life, and death
Requires time to reflect on our growth,
Reflect on our life, and
Reflect that we, too, must face death.
Marsha Lenihan once wrote, "People with BPD are like people with third degree burns all over their body, lacking emotional skin, they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement."

I used to cry when I said goodbye to my father after our weekly Tuesday night dinners
I'd play out games of Go fish and Rummy like there was no winner, but I was victorious next
to my daddy.  
His eyes still crinkle in the corners and his smell will always be long car rides with blankets, books on tape, and a wide range of conversations even though he was always late
But I'd weep like he actually just dropped dead every Tuesday night because I was petrified

My small but portly frame would crumple and I would mumble the worries I was too scared to say
I was afraid I'd see my daddy for the last time that day
I thought I had asthma because I was always fat and sometimes choked on the air in my lungs as if it was strangling me but I had my first panic attack in grade three

I was sitting in Mrs. Arlotta's classroom ladida
just like any other story about a schoolday when I was punched in the stomach
with a fist of "I miss my ******* dad"
there was this bully beating the **** out of me with no prologues warning
Just to remind me Despair
is not some abandoned pit people place their pity into
Despair, can be like an earwig, you use hope like tissues to squash out intrusion
but earwigs are smart, experts at delusion
earwigs know where to hide until you go to sleep

Every other weekend I used to sleep at my dads house with his british girlfriend
and his lovely cats and soothing hot tub
and his british girlfriend
and the fireplaces and the tribal music
and the british girlfriend
and the beautiful homemade pond and the greenhouse
and the british girlfriend

I liked roasting marshamallows until their crisp outer layer began to bubble but not for too long for if they fell in the fire there was trouble
Bort are you seriously letting the girl eat sweets tonight, god knows she doesn't need them

I liked riding my bike through Elizabeth park their flower garden was absolutley breathtaking
"you know Haley if you got off your *** more often moving your legs wouldn't be such a chore"

And I loved dinners with freshly picked herbs and seasonal tablecloths tucked in the curbs
"go ahead, have another helping, you're just like your mother, disgusting"

Well Karen I hope I'm like her and I hope she's disgusting
I hope she tasted disgusting on the leftover edges of my fathers lips
when you two were thrusting, could you also taste the hasty goodbyes he tossed like
rubber ducks to a family
waiting in line for him to come home
and waiting and waiting for him to never ******* come home

I loved my dad.
yes despair was everywhere but seeing my dad was like finding religion
if a child could comprehend the task of going to church

Christine Ann Lawson once wrote, " The borderling queen expreiances what therapists call oral greediness.  the desperate hunger of the borderline queen is a kin to the behavior of an infant who had gone too long between feedings.  Starved, frustrated, and beyond the ability to calm or sooth herself, she grabs, flails, wails until the last ****** is planted securely and perhaps too deeply in her mouth.  She coughs, gags, chokes, spits eyeing the elusive breast like a wolf guarding her food.  Similarily, the queen holds onto what is hers taking more than she could use, in case it might be taken away prematurely."

Did my eyes taste sour when you few times you kissed my lids goodnight maybe that's why there wasn't one ******* hour without a glass of wine, another beet, hide your shots of tequila behind the birthday cards I made you.

There was an ache of despair that you wouldn't always be there that when you decided you wanted to participate it was way past the expiration date
I said goodbye to my dad after dinner last night without a second look back, I forgot he could be dead when I was blowing lines to stay alive

Experts say a key symptom of borderling is chronic emptiness
Maybe if things had been different dad, I wouldn't be such a ******* mess
and you would have to pay Connecticutcare less.
 Oct 2013 apathy
Emily Tyler
And I
Was so stuck
On my own
Little
Problems
That I totally
Missed
That you were
Suicidal
Too.
 Oct 2013 apathy
AJ
Aaaaah
 Oct 2013 apathy
AJ
I was going to write this poem
On anxieties and procrastination.
But then I decided to write it later.
But that really freaked me out.
So here it is.
 Oct 2013 apathy
maybella snow
sustaining myself
just           enough
to  last  two  years
until  i  move  out
and   escape   this
place   of  insanity
Next page