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Bisaal Sep 2018
she said to herself:
be willing
you will not
crumple to the floor
and weep
fear not humiliation
fear demurral
black out poetry # 1 - made from the book "the signature of everything" by elizabeth gilbert
Bisaal Jun 2018
depression cuts you up
from the inside
into small, small pieces
eventually you can no longer take it
and you puke up the pieces
but the people keep coming
with their scissors
to stuff your insides
with the cut up meat
  Jun 2018 Bisaal
There's more to suicide than what we think it is.
It's not just unanswered questions,
sometimes, it's unasked ones.
For all those out there who self harm, please don't do it. Please don't do it, for me. For your family, for your friends, for all those who care, for yourself. You're not alone in this, trust me❤
For all those out there who are battling self harm, I'm so proud of you, keep going. I love
you, and I'm always here for you if you need me❤
For all those out there who help people that self harm, you're doing a great job. You're beautiful and you're going amazing❤
For all those out there who know people that self harm, please help them out. Tell them they're brave. Tell them they're not alone. Tell them you care. Tell them you love them. Give them your hand, they need it❤

Bisaal Jun 2018
this is just
any other place
but oh,
the memories
this place holds

I remember
how you'd insist
on climbing up
the icy hill
with those ******* skate shoes
you fell down
more often than not
but in the end
when you'd manage
I'd be on the other end
of the railing
with your prize

I was always
in a hurry
but you held me close
you wouldn't let me leave

I remember
how you'd push me
against the cold,
brick wall
kissing me senseless

I remember
how your hands would roam
and how they wandered
lower than to my waist,
beneath my jeans,
squeezing my behinds
as lovingly as possible

Who would've thought
there was ever a way
to do that

Thinking of it
used to make me feel
a lucky girl.
all I see
when thinking of it,
is you doing the same
to her.
Touching her
in that way.

This place
no longer fills me
with happiness.
Only longing
for the good times.

At the end of it all,
at the end of us,
you wouldn't even
touch me
as lovingly as before.
I leaned in
to kiss you
you pulled away.
Whenever I touched you,
you pushed me away.

They once told me
they'd never seen you
as happy
as when you were
with me,

I will forever wonder
what happened
I will forever wonder
why you stopped
loving me,
why you stopped
longing for my touch

But maybe
the end of us
was for the best
for all
of us.
Bisaal Jun 2018
the worst thing
about living in the "big city"?

it's not the weather
that I so fondly
like to complain about,
the oh so rainy days

it's not even the awful traffic
nor is it the somewhat horrid names
of the streets here

the absolute worst thing
about living in the "big city"
is the absence of the stars, at night
that demanded to be gazed upon
Bisaal Jun 2018
now I know how the moon feels
when he looks at all those stars
shining all around him
using their own beauty
to look as gorgeus as they do

now I know how the moon feels
thinking that all he does
is reflect the beauty of the sun
knowing that without it
he would be nothing

now I know how the moon feels
he must be profoundly jealous
of his beloved sun
Bisaal Jun 2018
I was a dandelion
and when everyone else
thought of me as ****,
some ugly parasite growing
in their garden of heavenly tulips,
you thought of me as the most beautiful,
miraculous and colorful flower to ever exist
on this Earth

because of you
I kept growing
because of you
I now have a
heavenly garden
of my own
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