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 Dec 2015
Cierra Spina
I become a ***** when I sense things ending
I get this itch and my heart starts bending
So I’m mean to avoid the pain
And I’m sad to get rid of the shame
I’m trying so hard not to be hurt
That you were leaving without an alert
But I know it’s better to give you a reason
Friends seem to change with the season
 Dec 2015
moss
Their freedom to tell their depths is now confined to a week.
But despite the propaganda, they are still afraid to speak.
On the outside, they are perceived as nothing but freaks.
On the inside, their lives are catastrophic, yet also bleak.

From their mountains of anxiety to their valleys of depression,
Nobody wants to listen to their pleading expressions.
They're forced to hold down their feelings with constant suppression.
So desperate to become invisible, it becomes an obsession.

As if their sickness was not as legitimate as one of the physical kind
Just because it plagues their body on the inside of their mind.
Behind their daily masks, they are continuously confined,
And the rest of their lives will be wrapped in a box and predefined.

They often wish things were how they saw them: nothing being real.
They use third person pronouns to describe how they feel
Because, whether they like it or not, they aren't made of steel,
But continue to futilely dance around the solar system's wheel.
I meant to post this earlier in the week, but I've been busy. Supposedly, this was "Mental Health Week" in case you weren't aware. It really bothers me that it's such a social taboo to talk about mental illness any other week of the year, and even during that week, it seems most people are just helping "raise awareness" by retweeting or sharing, but it's still always something that no one wants to admit that they themselves have problems with as if it's not as legitimate as some physical ailment like the flu or even cancer if you want to take it that far. The more people distance themselves from a problem, the more distant it will seem, and then the people who have those problems will seem more distant, producing the opposite effect that was intended. Good grief, do we need a special day/week/month for everything?
 Dec 2015
Dhaye Margaux
~~¤~~

You are every word I put
In this jar of  lines that I keep for so long
Like every breath that I breathe
And every single beat of my heart

You are the wish of forever
The moment I stare up to the sky
And wait for a shooting star
Or just look at those stellar bodies
Find the most radiant of them all
And uncover your eyes in it
Like staring at me soulfully

I hear your whispers in the wind
And even in the drops of water
Like the rain that washes my spirit
Or the sound of the waves
That always echo on the walls of my soul
Like those children playing
At the back of my mind

You never leave me in my dreams
Your touch always comfort me
With those words I need to carry on

You are my song
Your words, my melody

You are my song
My love forever

~~¤~~
Constant...
 Dec 2015
Sana
Against the gentlest ashen bones n’ flesh
I brush my skin and devour this gest
Driveling to stretch these moments last
For let me relish this spell afore;
My beloved becomes my precious past

On this illusory floor of lustrous dreams
I smash the glass of self-esteem
Tapping and whirling until I’m bereaved
For let me evanesce in pulse afore;
The hour is struck of my beloved’s leave

I pluck the leaves of my insanity n’ grief
And brew it well with my rusty belief
On this unsullied tongue I taste the wine
For let me drink before they lift;
Walls around my beloved’s shrine

Over the tormented waters;
I build a wharf and cast my woes
And I lay in peace as a sleeping child
Whilst averting noises n’ my cries
For let me rest in peace afore;
Veils are laid as my beloved dies
Every weekend I just rush back home to spend whatever moments I am left with my family (God knows). There is no greater blessing than love of our parents. So in the poem I just tell myself that its ok to be carefree at times, and its ok to run after your foolish desires at times as long as you can cherish those; for once you are deprived of the greatest love (for death is inevitable), none of it would ever be the same again; what pleased you once would never please you again as much. The music I listen to with my father; the taste of food I enjoy with my mother; the same food and the same music would always be accompanied with pain.
 Dec 2015
Dhaye Margaux
~~<3~~

I am the sunshine
the ray of your first light
that kisses your cheek
and gives you warmth in these cold days

I can enter even at your sealed room
can pass through your closed windows
to watch you there in peace
while holding the glass bird in your hand

I give you the torch,
the lamp that you need when the room goes dark
and the flame when something needs to be held
like holding a glass of  rain and a bottle of wind

You tell me that stars are not far
while oceans are just few steps ahead
That my warmth gives you that strength
to build the ladders and bridges we need

Yes, I am your light
and I will share my glow with you
Until the last beam that I have
Because being your light gives me life

For you are the ember
that ignites my light to spark
For you are who  I am
And together we will share this light.

~~<3~~
together
 Dec 2015
Dhaye Margaux
I am blessed
How come I didn't know?
Or I am just blind
For whatever you show?

I am blessed
How come I didn't rejoice?
Or I am just afraid
To make a better choice?

How come I was a blind,
afraid to choose,  to stand?
Thank you for the love
Please always hold my hand

I am so blessed today
For having your love, my dear
I wish I can make you glad
And  take away your fears
I am...
 Dec 2015
Wanderer
There is breath here
Still
Full of silent
Mornings silent nights
Looking
Glass half-full half-empty
Handed
A Love beyond wild edges
Made
Too sharp to catch my fall

Yet I stand these tests of strength
Weathered the devastation
Share stories of our struggle
Never really losing the acidic taste of failure
The burn of letting go
How do I not feel guilty?
Even knowing I gave my all
It wasn't enough
Played out in such a way that nothing could have been

*I still had more to give
I miss you.
 Dec 2015
grace
15
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm an alcoholic.
I'm 15 and I've been smoking cigarettes for
a year.
I'm 15 and I've been with more boys then I can count on one hand.
I'm 15 and my preexisting anxiety and depression are becoming too much for me.
I'm 15 and I don't know if I can do this anymore.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 6.
I want to be 6 when I swore I'd never touch a cigarette in my life.
I want to be 6 when I didn't even know what anxiety was.
I want to be 6 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be 28.
I want to be 28 with a man who appreciates my flaws and loves me no matter what.
I want to be 28 drinking a glass of wine or two at dinner, but no more.
I want to be 28 but I'm not.
I'm 15.
I'm 15 and I'm scared.
I'm 15 and I'm scared because I'll never be 6 again, and I'm scared that I might not make it 28.
I'm 15 and I don't want to be 15.
I'm 15 and I want to be.
 Dec 2015
Carsyn Smith
I want to mark my skin
like the ever-stained hem of the sleeves
that lick my knuckles like the sea foam
of a southern beach.

I want each pore to be filled
with the same heaviness that each streak
of watered-down mascara holds
as it lingers on the ends of my worn-out shirt sleeves.

Every line must mirror the soul
trapped in the blackened rivers
that forever run parallel to each other.

The curves crafted by the needle
will sway with same helium
he fills my chest with;

the crosses and dots will pack
the kisses he planted tenderly on my lips.

My first tattoo must be more than ink,
it must be heart.
I don't belong to anyone
I belong to the earth and the skies
And leap year's missing days
I belong to storms and thunders growl
To the stars and the moon
And broken birds' still beating hearts
I am a child of light and shadow
I belong to nothing and no one
I will never belong to them
I will never belong at all
 Dec 2015
Fatıma
The incessant turning of cogs in
an instrument ran by heart
Shambles.
Stoic, admonishing words
frolicking about as frail, free-floating petals.
Beneath it all the clamorous tug gibing with the
Very voices you kissed me with.
Cold, but
unwinding the taut flesh.

I stayed
            though.

By your darkest demons, caressing with
Silk comfort.
Imbuing them with a dancing light lull:
your Reign of Melody.

To projectile your serenading strums,
To stretch out your fingers jangling,
on all the metal of the strings;
Gnashing the ivory saws of your teeth
you severed my bones.

I’ve become your music to trifle
I’ve become your naive, small bell boy.
“We’re not two, but one” you’d say. When
You knew all along, this song steered and dwindled
into paleness.

Sour hush.
 Dec 2015
Fatıma
And
I think we were perfect
- too perfect.
That's why when we
Exploded,
you left me on earth
to dance with the stars.
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