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 Dec 2017
Savannah
I saw this on Facebook and really felt the need to share it. I have NEVER seen a more perfect poem, written in the saddest way.          


"I destroy homes, tear families... apart - take your children, and that's just the start.
I'm more costly than diamonds, more costly than gold - the sorrow I bring is a sight to behold.
And if you need me, remember I'm easily found.
I live all around you, in schools and in town.
I live with the rich, I live with the poor, I live down the street, and maybe next door.
My power is awesome - try me you'll see.
But if you do, you may never break free.
Just try me once and I might let you go, but try me twice, and I'll own your soul.
When I possess you, you'll steal and you'll lie.
You'll do what you have to just to get high.
The crimes you'll commit, for my narcotic charms, will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in your arms.
You'll lie to your mother; you'll steal from your dad.
When you see their tears, you should feel sad.
But you'll forget your morals and how you were raised.
I'll be your conscience, I'll teach you my ways.
I take kids from parents, and parents from kids, I turn people from God, and separate from friends.
I'll take everything from you, your looks and your pride, I'll be with you always, right by your side.
You'll give up everything - your family, your home, your friends, your money, then you'll be alone.
I'll take and I'll take, till you have nothing more to give.
When I'm finished with you you'll be lucky to live.
If you try me be warned this is no game.
If given the chance, I'll drive you insane.
I'll ravish your body, I'll control your mind.
I'll own you completely; your soul will be mine.
The nightmares I'll give you while lying in bed.
The voices you'll hear from inside your head.
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you'll see.
I want you to know, these are all gifts from me.
But then it's too late, and you'll know in your heart, that you are mine, and we shall not part.
You'll regret that you tried me, they always do.
But you came to me, not I to you.
You knew this would happen.
Many times you were told, but you challenged my power, and chose to be bold.
You could have said no, and just walked away.
If you could live that day over, now what would you say?
I'll be your master; you will be my slave.
I'll even go with you, when you go to your grave.
Now that you have met me, what will you do?
Will you try me or not?
Its all up to you.
I can bring you more misery than words can tell.
Come take my hand, let me lead you to hell."
Signed
DRUGS
 Dec 2017
Jessy
I look at myself in the mirror,
Unsure why
I don’t like what I see,
But how can I change?
I was made this way for a reason
And I will stay this way forever.

I don’t want to be like this forever.
I look at my reflection in the mirror
And I do it for a reason,
Even though I don’t know why.
But I guess I want to change
Although it’s not that easy, you see...

I hate what I see,
And I don’t want to be this way forever.
But I don’t know how to change.
Because what I see in the mirror
I think is ugly. You ask why?
Well even I don’t know the reason.

And there is a reason,
That I am still unable to see
And I know why.
Because no matter what, I will think this way forever
And continue to look in the mirror
Wanting my body to change.

I want myself to be different, to change
And it’s like that for a reason.
I can only see myself in the mirror
And I hate what I see.
It will be like this forever
No matter how many times I ask ‘why’.

I cry and scream and yell out ‘why’,
Because I want my body to change.
I will cry forever
For the very good reason
That I hate what I see
When I look in the mirror.

I now know why and it will stay like that forever,
I look in the mirror and am disgusted with what I see,
But I see that I can’t change myself and that is the reason.
 Dec 2017
Melissa Fayard
My teacher once asked “ What’s your definition of anxiety?”
Everyone around me raised their hand and I
I... lowered my head.
I wanted to raise my hand but anxiety told me not to
It told me not to because the popular girl in the front of the class
Surrounded by all her friends
Might laugh at a loser like me
I’m not a loser but anxiety makes me feel like i lose
In any situation that I’m in
So that makes me.. a loser.
Anxiety is me struggling to fit in all the places
I know i’ll never fit in at.
It’s me putting on my skin tight jeans with my converse
Because that’s what all the other girls are wearing.
Anxiety is me crying at 3 in the morning because the kid
I like won’t talk to me, even though I’ve never spoke to him.
I’ve never spoke to him because every time I walk up to him
My anxiety throws a rope around me and pulls me back
Saying you are not good enough for him
And I start to wonder if I am even good enough for myself.
Anxiety makes me wonder if i’ll ever be capable of loving someone
Because I can’t love myself the way I need to be loved.
And that makes me scared to love.
I deleted this poem 5 times because my anxiety told me
No one would read it.
“Anxiety is like a toddler.
It never stops talking and it
Always tell you, you’re wrong.
And it wakes you up at 3 a.m”
That is my definition of anxiety.
 Dec 2017
Marie
morning light
cuts my soul
gently divides
lost from whole
and i don't want to lose too much
 Dec 2017
Lexie
Who are you to walk away?
Who am I to ask you to stay.
Who are we to care at all?
Simply fools, fighting over who will pay the check, you paid in love.

She who waits the tables , will mourn the check that bounces.

And I, will mourn my loss of you.
 Dec 2017
Lunar
"Keep your friends close,
and your enemies closer,"
Is what they say.

But nothing hurts more than
Keeping the ones you love close,
But the one you couldn't love, closer.
it's a friend zone poem i wrote for my friend, and i still think this needs polishing.
 Dec 2017
ML Otto
Little do people know
That at night when their asleep
Darkness creeps inside
To expose the secrets we keep
The whisper through the window
The sound next to your ear
Is not the wind we thought
But darkness drawing near
It longs to hear the secrets
The ones we hide so deep
Those with the biggest secrets
Are the ones who cannot sleep

They lay awake for ages
Tryna’ find a way
To explain how their secrets
Have caused them to stary
Far away from the path
The sun had planned for them
Onto a dark and rocky road
That held little rythem
 Dec 2017
anna
i fell in love with your
eyes, but then your eyes became
pits of darkness inside life's plum and it
wasn't quite okay with me but i dealt with it because they were
yours.

i fell in love with your
heart, but then your heart became
a ball of wires of darkness inside your chest and it
wasn't quite okay with your mother and least of all me but i dealt with it because it was
yours.

i fell in love with your
hair, but then your hair became
packing straw inside of a barrel made of mahogany and it
wasn't quite okay with your deadbeat dad and least of all me but i dealt with it because it was
yours.

i fell in love with your
lips, but then your lips became
cold and too much like your great great great grandmother's and it
wasn't quite okay with your brother and least of all me but i dealt with them because they were
yours.

i fell in love with your
words, but then your words weren't
heard and it wasn't quite okay with anyone
least of all me but i dealt with it because they were
yours.

i fell in love with
you.
but then you weren't you and it wasn't quite okay with
me.
it was okay with me least of all.
but i deal with it.

i deal with what you were.
dedicated to b.w. - a poem written a billion years ago
 Dec 2017
Barker
If I'm losing my mind now
It's because I believed that I can make something broken
Into something perfect
(c)ibarker
 Dec 2017
Jesha
25
You told yourself 25 was a good age to die
Ghosting on the tail end of youth,
The Grey would never touch you.

But 25 is here, and the razor is coppered from neglect
And the pills in the cabinet have long lost their voice from bitter age.

25 is here, and you're reminded of the deal you made with Death at 18
When the weight of life nearly killed you
And your idea of hope was the promise of an early grave.

25 is here, and you don't want to die
But the burden of years that have not yet arrived
Press down on your shoulders like the heavy hands of unwanted men.

And yet.
You don't want to die.

So you rely on your emergency exits
collecting dust under tarnished jewelry and gold-strangled hair ties.

Like old friends you meet up with once a decade, you pacify their need for acknowledgement,
Weaving nevers into not yets with empty promises and shallow reassurances,
Brushing off their needling whispers as they bounce off another day gone by.

Because you're 25.
And you're not done yet.
To read or not to read at Open Mic night...
 Dec 2017
Ishant17
I just wonder
Where the old dreams
Go to die?
Do they ether away
Into the cosmos?
Or they just
Lie down somewhere
Bubbling up as clouds
In the sky.
Or do they
Filter out as
Butterflies of my thoughts .
Are they chained too
To vicious cycle of
Death and rebirth ?
Transcending from one
Subconscious to another.
Amidst the storm of thoughts
Another conjures up
from the vast emptiness
with yet another trail
of beliefs and dis beliefs
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