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 Jun 2018 cayden
Syd
That girl
 Jun 2018 cayden
Syd
What if
I had fallen to my knees
On the cold parking lot concrete
Tears washing over my cheeks
And cries no one should ever have to hear
Bellowing out from beneath my ribs
Screaming at the sky
Looking up at your face
Forcing you
(and everyone else)
To see me in this godforsaken state
Of absolute chaos
Heartbreak
In it's rawest form
What if I had begged you to stay?
What if I'd told you I can't do this without you?
What if I'd told you how much I needed you
What if I did anything other than fighting back the tears
Maybe for myself, maybe for you,
Mostly for the crowd of people gathering
Saying their goodbyes
Anxiously looking around to bear witness to everyone else's reactions
And I didn't want to be that girl
That girl who falls to the ground
Kicking and screaming and crying and begging
But what if I was?
What if I was any girl other than the one I pretended to be that day
The one that held her tongue and kept her mouth shut because she knew the second she opened it to speak she would sob
The one that wrapped her arms around you for the last time,
and the one that let go
The one that couldn't bear to watch you walk away
So she kissed you goodbye
Got back in the car
And drove home
What if i wasn't that girl who didnt allow herself to completely fall apart until she was alone in the privacy of her own home?
What if instead I'd made a scene,
Doing what everything inside me so desperately wanted to
Grabbing hold of your hand and refusing to let go
Losing the facade of confidence
The charade of strength
But I'm not that girl
And I never will be
So each and every time you leave
I kiss you goodbye
I unclench my fists and retract my anchors
I untether my heart from it's human home
And I put on a brave face
Maybe for myself, maybe for you,
Or maybe
For that girl.
 Jun 2018 cayden
Derick Stark
A visionary, with ambition fleeting,
staring off in space, entreating--
over whether this bleak and quite melancholy
winding path will end his mortal folly.
Perhaps it will set this pilgrim unto a great excursion,
into an elaborate and eloquent immersion,
down and through a set direction,
leading to his desired exaltation.
But, alas, his great potential remains shrouded;
a colossal shadow indeed clouds it--
Hauntingly floats a ghastly specter,
a barren image of a former mentor.
He was swiftly carried by Thanatos,
the boy left in catatonic comatose.

A plague beset upon his mind,
the young pilgrim doth find,
when veering through the innards of said specter,
there was present, some unknown vector:
guilt, no, regret perhaps?
What prevents him to elapse
the memory of a loved one now gone?
Why does the sunrise not bring about a sunny dawn?
 Jun 2018 cayden
rica
My friend asks, “Do you never get tired of your sadness?

I do.

Everyday is a battle I face, struggling to keep myself alive, trying to find reasons to not **** myself but all I can find are reasons why I’m better off dead.

She says, “Why don’t you try doing things that makes you happy?

I wish it was that easy to do the things I enjoy (read: used to enjoy) doing but it’s hard when you can’t even get yourself out of the bed in the morning, wishing you would just stop existing instead because that seems like the only probable solution to your problem.

It’s hard to be happy when you’re being constantly reminded just how much of a **** you are, all the negative thoughts eating you alive. The feeling of emptiness clawing its way through your throat and making its presence known but god knows you don’t  want it — never even asked for it in the first place.

I’m tired of being sad all the time. I’m tired of always being tired, locking myself in my room and withdrawing myself from any forms of social interaction because the thing is I don’t have enough energy to talk to anyone today, please leave me alone.

These days I’ve been feeling numb. I try to do things to make myself feel something — or anything at all, but all that I am is numb and empty. It’s like nothing will ever bring me happiness or sorrow. I feel like there’s nothing that will ever make me feel something again.  

My friend says, “You know I’m here for you, right?” but she never remembers to check up on me on days I feel like darkness is the only thing to keep me company, the weight of living taking its toll on me. She never remembers to ask me how I’m doing on days where I feel like death is the only solution to my depression.

It’s hard to stay alive when you can’t seem to find any reasons to live at all.

—l.a.
i know that my friends are most probably tired of me, but please know that i’m trying all the very best that i can to keep on going. however, i feel like there’s really nothing worth living for anymore. life is tiring lol
 Jun 2018 cayden
Jolan Lade
That is where you walk
On the golden path paved
By frozen hearts like mine

This is where I walk
On the lonely and dark trails, which light is taken
By shining hearts like yours

That is your atmosphere
Filled with birdsong singing in joy and cheer
Birds that feed on fright felt by breached hearts like mine

This is my atmosphere
Polluted and dismantled
Abandoned by hope lead away by believing hearts like yours

We are as divided
I in this dim world with thunder and agony
You in that gleaming world full of happiness and liberality

Inbetween us a dash
I cannot reach your world
And in a flash, it is gone
Now nothing but grumpy monsters and dark rooms
My memory is captured by you, and my eyes caught by the moon
The memory
 Jun 2018 cayden
Stephen E Yocum
The aromatic scent
of Fresh rain falling
upon dry earth,
is the essence for
the continuance
of all life itself.
No other primal ethereal scent
is sweeter or more reassuring.
It lasts for scant minutes but
is recalled forever.

— The End —