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healy walsh Nov 2014
I cannot keep doing this

each day I slip further & further away

my laugh has disappeared
my once bright smile turns dull
my eyes gloss over, unable to open
my hands hang lifelessly from my scrawny arms
my hair sad and grey, a new white hair comes with each new day
my words are slurred
my chest is tight with fear & anxiety
my tongue too heavy to speak
my body numb & heavy

I cannot keep doing this
healy walsh Jan 2014
With ****** knuckles and gritted teeth I whelp in frustration.
The overwhelming desire to beat myself numb and claw away my skin.
Tears burn my cheeks and my eyes are heavy.
My voice is horse,
with every shout through a clenched jaw my adrenalin spikes.
Swollen and upset I lay hopelessly begging for a level head.
healy walsh Dec 2013
Im sorry youre hurting.
Im sorry your head is a storm.
Im sorry your bodys a rag doll.
Im sorry your mascara is messy.
Im sorry your hands are trembling and your heart is aching.
Im sorry i cant take away the pain you dont deserve to have.
healy walsh Dec 2013
no matter the time of day or weather,
who i'm with or how i feel,
joyful, depressed, or angry
my mind always finds its way to you.
healy walsh Nov 2013
someone once told me they loved my voice.
they said it was different,
mature, ****, and sophisticated.
better than the high pitched, superficial teen voices.
i had a voice like a woman should have,
strong, confident, and intriguing.

someone once told me they loved my voice.
the voice i used in everyday conversation.
the voice i used to tell stories and greet strangers.
the voice i found raspy and manly,
the voice i always wished was sweeter.

someone once told me they loved my voice.
they said it was a voice of a woman,
but i am just a girl
and you no longer talk to the voice you once said you loved.
healy walsh Nov 2013
shes so pretty,
she looks so cute in that skirt and short top,
her hair is blonde and perfectly straight,
her eyes wide and green,
yet when she goes to write her wrists are red,
long thin scabs wrap her wrists,
pain from the past still marked on her thighs and hips,
what do i say,
i know she sees me looking.
healy walsh Oct 2013
no one cares about love,
ever whispered about how lucy loves tom? no.
they only care about the lust,
how last saturday lucy and tom got it on.
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