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 Apr 2015
ashw
I’ve been alone for countless years,
A speck of dust my only friend.
Deep inside, no hopes, nor fears,
Just myself these many years.

I have no past to reminisce,
Therein no future to predict,
There’s no one lost for me to miss,
No one with whom to reminisce.

There is no way to pass the time,
As I lie in wait of endless night.
There is no love, or hate, or crime,
The more I think, even no time.

Eternity chose to envelop me,
And forever is all there is to see,
An inescapable void, no calm, nor breeze,
For it abandoned all else in favor of me.
 Apr 2015
Black Roses
I Know You're Not Proud, Is It Because I Did More Then You Allowed?
Why Do You Disapprove? Can't You See I Can Improve?
Why Are You Keen On Removing My Chapter?
What About The Memories We Could Capture?
To Everyone i let down.
although i tried to make it right again, they didn't give me a second chance.
 Apr 2015
Ivy Swolf
You're trying to come to terms with who
you are, but it's difficult when your soul
is a tempest and the wind keeps changing.

Maybe fate is cruel or maybe we are too
optimistic.

Everyday of the week a new door seems to
close right before your eyes; loss pierces every
nerve in your body like clockwork.

Everybody has felt this way one time
or another, they say, you'll get through it, they repeat,
you'll survive. But when the end of the week blends in
with the arrival of the next, you swear that
hopelessness hasn't been everyone's shadow
as long as it's been yours.

And maybe you're right.

You feel so much that it's tearing
apart everything you love. So kiss
your sadness
goodbye
because that is the blessing and the
curse of being you.
i realized that my poems were getting progressively more self-centered and that bothered me because i began focusing too much on things detrimental to positive thinking. phew. so, if you're reading this, and if you are remotely intrigued, i just wanted to say that i'm trying to approach things in a new way. or something.
 Apr 2015
Maryjessie Pacheco
If I make no noise,
am I really alive?
Do I exist
if you can't hear me?
Apparently...
I don't
because if I don't speak first,
I'm not allowed to speak at all
but I have a right to.
No one cares about that though.
They  see right through me,
like you probably do.
I am silence.
I make not a sound
and because I am silence,
I do not matter to you
and I am invisible.
 Apr 2015
Alex John Peace
Feel the pain,
deep inside.
Nasty scratches,
hard to hide.

Feel the pain,
It's what I need,
I cut myself,
until I bleed.

Release the anger,
feel the pain,
hide the scars,
I feel so ashamed.
 Dec 2014
Natasha Meyer
Naked she lies
Her body tainted and bruised
cast aside by hate and demise
broken, torn, bleeding
her dreams shattered
her mind battered
discarded
forgotten
alone
I know what you'd all like to say
      To make me feel better
"Beauty is on the inside"
            Or
       "You are beautiful"
But my soul is so tattered
       And my heart
Has been repeatedly
             shattered
All the scattered
      bits and pieces
   You might find in there
          Between the scars and creases
     Would make you all run and hide
               If beauty shines from the inside,       Then I'm the **ugliest beast alive
The second in my series of 'lies'. Click #mylittlelies and #mytruths to read the rest.
Thanks.
 Nov 2014
tiaamaariaa
Are you able to change someone like me?
Someone who is so damaged it hurts to move.
Someone who is so sad it's tiring to smile.
Are you able to love someone like me?
Someone who is so tired of everything around her
Someone who is so anxious to continue life
Are you able to pick up all the pieces?
Are you willing to put them back together ?
Are you capable of living with a damaged soul?
I didn't think so..
-te
 Nov 2014
curlygirl
Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.
 Nov 2014
Candy Noire
You should have listened
When I said I wanted out
When I told you about the things in my head
When I said I was better off dead
You should have listened
When I said I needed someone
But I'm not blaming you for this
Don't get me wrong
You should have listened
At 3am when I was sobbing in my room
And you were sleeping peacefully
You should have listened
When I said that I loved you
The humble crack in my voice
Like it's the last chance for me to be true
But will you listen?
When I'm lonely and it's cold
And I need someone to protect me
This life is growing old
And if you listen
And give me a reason to stay
Then I promise you you won't regret this
I'm here when you feel this way.
 Nov 2014
Elizabeth
I admit it, I'm afraid.

Darkness is coming, the pain is delayed.

I never thought my life would end like this.

A handful of pills and cuts on my wrist.

So sing me to sleep and ease me into my enternal rest.

I know there is nothing, but nothing must be better than being so depressed.

A ringing fills my ears and over takes the heart wrenching silence.

I admit it, I am afraid.

But I still don't wish that I had stayed.

And then I awake, moments later in my bed.

My breath is heavy and there's a pounding in my head.

I dreamt of what I wanted most, freedom.

A death without martyrdom.

But now I get up and start my day.

Yet I know, The nothing would be different if I faded away.
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