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Christina Cox Dec 2015
I stare at nothing.
That space between myself and something.
Nothing is the air, the molecules, and dust.
I stare at nothing to let my brain come up with something.
Some reason to live, to sleep, to eat.
I stare at nothing.
I do not stare at something.
  Dec 2015 Christina Cox
Corndog08
Is it sad,
the way I sit,
right here in class,
acting like a ****,
writing little poems,
that show the way I feel,
the way I act,
is this real?
  Dec 2015 Christina Cox
ARI
I fought with every
Breath raging through
My bruised chest.

Fingernails hanging
By thread like
Pieces of skin.

Blood and dirt
Creating a solid
Form of desperation.

The weight of the
World sleeping on
My weeping form.

My casket made
Of warm flesh
And a smiling face.

Hundreds passed
But never heard
The girl screaming inside.

-ARI
  Dec 2015 Christina Cox
Corndog08
How to be a depressing little ****,
Sit in your room,
Alone in the dark,
Listening to music,
Eating rice crackers,
Is how to be a depressing little ****.
I did this last night.
Christina Cox Dec 2015
Is it my heart or my head
that wishes I was dead?
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