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Ria Apr 2015
dear future boyfriend,
last time i talked about how i may cry randomly well i may also want to hurt myself at times too.
It's not because of you, but what's inside of me-
i can't control it, i feel like it's taken control over me in fact.
i'll need to be alone on occasions, i'll just be reading or scrolling through
social media sites, doing "nothing" really but in fact,
i'm just trying to distract myself from my thoughts.
they eat me up and swallow me whole.
your love doe the same for me but it's really hard
to listen to other people than the voice in your head
that's telling you to die and leave everyone alone.
So here are some tips I have for you:
if I need to be alone, please give me my space
if it looks like i'll be unstable by myself, just hold me and tell me a story i'll be okay afterwards.
if I can't sleep at night, just hold my hand. I'll figure the rest out.
i just need to feel safe that's all
and you're my home; forever will be
Ria Apr 2015
it's funny how i never expected to be the one apologizing.
you see, i'm usually the one who gets hurt and the one who is left wondering what I did wrong. What made them leave me?
But it's the other way around now, I didn't mean to hurt you.
I think there's just so much sad in me that I just exploded like a grenade hurting everyone around me. This sounds like an excuse and I don't want it to be. I truly am sorry for everything that I have caused you.
I think I've been hurt too many times in the past that I've built a wall surrounding myself to prevent me from getting hurt more. I don't expect you to understand or accept my apology.
I think I should leave but you see, I feel like poison ivy, I'm wrapped around you and I can't let go.
But you can die from poison ivy so I think you're just going to have to cut me off.
I won't want to leave and I don't think I ever will. But I'm not healthy for you.
I'm sorry, but I don't think those words will ever do any justice.
The other people don't matter to me, I was just trying to fill up a void. To try and find a muse but it failed miserably. I hope you know that.
I should leave, I'm rambling and I probably am to stall time because this hurts me too even if you may not see it.
i'm sorry will never be enough unfortunately
Ria Feb 2015
i'm so sorry i hurt you
and him and you
and i just caused grief and pain to so many
and i know you don't want to have anything to do with me
that's understandable,
i don't even want me
nobody does
but that's not the point,
i'm sorry
i ******* apologize.
I'm sorry, i mess up a lot
and it's in my nature and this isn't okay. I know, it's an excuse
but the truth, the truth let me tell you hurts and it feels like an avalanche
back to the point. The truth is you'll never like me
and it h u r t s
but i'm okay
i'll be fine like usual
i hope you're doing well
Ria Feb 2015
He's got a grip on me
Tighter than my father ever will
He's attached and prone to jealousy
I can't help the fact that we're a dynamic duo; we're a pair
But the thing is, he's not even mine.
He's on lot of people's minds, eating their souls out.
He's Depression
this wasn't supposed to be poetic. i AM NOT trying to glorify mental illnesses in any way shape or form. This is just my personal struggle.
Ria Feb 2015
running away from reality gets tiring after awhile
i wonder if you ever felt like that
the clouds seem happy today but i miss you,
i didn't know this is how you felt like
"i'm sorry"
"did it hurt?"
"i'm drowning again, how about you?"
Far too often than not, I want to jump and fly; however, i'm falling instead
Ria Feb 2015
the light touches me and i'm in pain; i feel hurt everywhere,
i look at you and i feel the bruises start to form:
you're glorious and i'm miserable
you're a god while i'm a wilted plant
you took the wrong -or right in your opinion- turn and i was your fork in the road
Ria Sep 2014
he wrote poetry for her but she laughed and called it silly, he burned his ink-stained fingers and cut his hair, he picked up a circular object with lines rimmed around it and threw it around in the air.
he aimed and shot,
she started to pay attention and started to laugh with him, not at him
but his ink-stained fingers started to grow back
if you're a male who loves to write poetry, don't ever it's pretty hot
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