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Love is the absence of Hate
And hate is the absence of Love
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.
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What happens when love and hate collide???
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Love and hate. Hate and love.
Life is a fiction,
An imagination out of nothing,
We create "us" to console our genocidal thoughts,
As we massacre our own,
We don't think of what we created,
"They'll **** me" is what we tell ourselves,
As it really is our pride and strong beliefs of a greater power,
Yet how do we cope,
We use the horror of killing as a form of pride and power,
An expansion of our own stupidity,
We don't have to **** to gather pride,
Just own the "us" and you will consume the power from the living,
The more you own the more cocky you become,
Then there is the religion,
Where there is no wrong doing,
But rather was done to please,
They have no remorse for what they did,
Just a sense of injustice,
Due to the fact that what they did was right,
But why judge them all,
Why deem them irrational human beings,
That whole society of innocent people,
Have we become no better than the small number of irrational people,
Why do we dehumanize these people,
This is the life of fantasies that sadly become realities.
To Orlando Florida
And PRIDE
poetry lets go
what
the body
can no
longer hold.
Hi. :)
my name is depression
and i will drag your soul across your bedroom floor and hear you scream for help

my name is depression
and i will dig every blood vessel out of your heart until you are bare and empty, cold and silent

my name is depression
and i will run down your face as you try and explain the demon inside of you to people who do not understand

my name is depression
and i will eat your laughter, run my hands down your happiness and choke you with my scrawny fingers as you beg for air

my name is depression
and i will walk you home tonight, crawl into your bed and sit next to you as you contemplate your fall down this 23 storey building

my name is depression



*and i won't stop
I have one brain
one heart
two eyes
to see my path
and once again
I am,
falling apart.

counting my tears
until I'm free
abiding by my years
as the clock strikes three
bringing the hammer down
on my time
if I make it till four
I would live more than
I ever intended to be
I cannot see
if I'm still alive
been like this
since i was five
maybe i have died
I do not know anymore,
and it's all just a dream, a lie,
I cannot do the maths anymore.



I am afraid of
the man in the mirror
there's a strange
silence to it
this place is different
there's no sun rise at six
no tomorrow that exists
and by seven
it will be night once again.

if I'm not awake
by eight
don't bother ever again
I won't be running late
cats have nine lives
so cruel for them


ten.
Choking

Words
Stuck on my throat

Words
Left unsaid


**It's killing me
Haunting. Burdensome.
-
Pain,
Ever inflicting pain,
I stand up and the pain comes,
I live and the pain is unbearable,
I eat and regurgitate from pain,
I think and the pain destroys my mind,
I sleep and the pain is still there,
I am depressed and the pain that I feel is my depression.
It's a poem
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