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 Nov 2015 Emily Joyce
Issy
Sleep
 Nov 2015 Emily Joyce
Issy
Why can't I just sleep forever?
 Nov 2015 Emily Joyce
Nicole Dawn
A locked door
A rusty razor
A towel stained with red

A folded note
A broken mirror
A young girl lies there dead

Their emotions tangle
And the room begins to swirl
She was mommy's perfect angel
And daddy's little girl
This not my work
I got it from an Instagram account called _sad_quotes____
I just really liked it so...
 Nov 2015 Emily Joyce
Issy
Drugs
 Nov 2015 Emily Joyce
Issy
My parents warned me about the drugs in the street.
But never the one with blue eyes and a heartbeat.
 Oct 2015 Emily Joyce
Issy
Broken.
 Oct 2015 Emily Joyce
Issy
Bleeding out, and screaming.
Never sleeps, but dreaming.
Hoping, wishing, praying.
Soul inside decaying.
 Oct 2015 Emily Joyce
Issy
Your eyes. A deep blue. Like the ocean.
I felt safe when I looked into them.
I’ve seen your eyes light up with happiness.
I’ve seen them swell up with tears.
They always stayed the same beautiful blue.
Until the day they turned red.
The day those loving blue eyes filled with hate.
You could have lit the sky on fire with those eyes.
But you chose to burn me instead.
 Sep 2015 Emily Joyce
Ashley Gray
Blood stained your pillow
While tears stained mine
You lay unconscious in a hospital
While I lay with my thoughts
I knew goodbye was coming
I knew it wouldn’t be easy
But I would have to get through it
I know I will always have him in my heart.
I just wished he didn’t have to go like that.
Liver and kidney’s failing,
bleeding out in his sleep.
It wasn’t fair to him or to me.
 May 2015 Emily Joyce
Jaide Lynne
You are the worst thing that has ever happened… to my poetry

You see I used to write poems that make people want to set fire to the world, and cry an ocean. I used to write about death, and depression, and hope, and how I am finally okay with who I am. I use to write to inspire, I used to write about the demons under my bed and the ones in my head. I could write poems about my fears and my dreams and how messed up this world is. But lately, all I have been about to write about is you.

Roses are red, violets are blue, my poetry has gone to **** and its all thanks to you

My poetry has gone from a ***** the world mentality to what ever this sappy stuff I have been writing lately is called.

My poems are about your smile and how it can light up a room better than 1,000 suns

They are about how I get butterflies every time I see you and how there are fireworks when we kiss

They are full of overused analogies, like fireworks and butterflies

They have gone from being about how sometimes I get so scared of everything my heart beats out of my chest to being about how my heart skips a beat when you say my name

They have gone from how music is my catharsis to how when you play music I think I lose the ability to breathe correctly.  

They are about how it takes you 20 minutes to get ready because you have to re-lace your shoes every time.

They use to be about how I am scared. I am scared of failure, I am scared not doing anything with my life, I am scared of spiders, I am scared of things changing. But all I can write about is how I am terrified of losing you.

My poetry is about our stupid jokes

They are about how terrified I am that you are going to see me differently when you find out that I am more messed up than I may seem.

They are about how cute you are when you are sleepy and how you are like a modern day, male, Cinderella except instead of losing your shoe at midnight you kinda lose your mind.  

You see, I have a reputation to uphold. I am the depressing and angry poetry girl, but I can’t be that when you make me so **** happy.

My poems are about all night video calls and awkward first kisses

They are about how no amount of time is nearly enough when I'm with you

They are about how we are pretty much the same person but with different faces

My poems are about your hair and how much I like it even though its always getting in my way

My poetry is about how you are the only person that manages to give me **** while simultaneously telling me I am cute

My poems are about how your eyes are like coffee, and how I love coffee, and how I love you.

Don’t you see what I mean? You are the worst thing to ever happen to my poetry, but the best things to ever happen to me.
Just some **** I wrote and performed in a competition.
 May 2015 Emily Joyce
Triiniity
They said time flies,
that a moment will fall through your palms like sand
If it's so fast we can't see it with our eyes,
how do I react to a pill this size and
move my hands to guard against
my throat opening;
my hands are closing in.
Reality won't be the death of me,
I'll die awake but dreaming
in a fantasy
 Apr 2015 Emily Joyce
Matt
"The problem with suicide is that when it becomes an option in your mind, it's always an option."
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