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it's getting worse
thunderstorms in my head
it's getting worse
strangling me in bed
help me
help me somebody
untie the ropes
get me to stop
painting on skin
there's too much
red paint within
helpmehelpme
hold my hand just hold
my hand and walk with me
get me out of this storm
with the sunlight
in your eyes
i want to breathe again
without having
to **** something
inside me
it's getting worse
help me
it's getting worse
**** me -
**** it -
what's the difference
between the two
when you want it to end.
it's been months now
i want you to get tired
tired enough to leave me
so that i'll know
that all the people
in my life
left for a reason
that way i'll understand
how i became like this
so lonely
so broken
so afraid of love and trust
as if it'll burn me
and maybe
you'll prove me right
that i was never enough
to make people stay.

but still i hope,
you'd be the one
to prove me wrong.
will she prove me wrong?
keep your dog on the leash
wouldn't want it to go wild
you make me trot behind you
wouldn't let you feel riled
you taught me "never say no"
bark! - you say, sit! - you say
when did i become like this
the break-myself-just-to-obey
kind of buddy, your little puppy
wag my tail then fake my smile
wow! you trained me well, scoiety
swear i've been good for awhile
where's my treat, what is it?
bag of sweets, bag of praise,
a gold tied to my very leash?
but not a lot, just in case
i ask for too much, be too much
tell me how to act now
speak now, you think i'm yours
while i think of the word 'how'
how did i get myself caught and
learn how to listen too much
making them think i won't bite
because they always forget that
anyone with a mouth might.
society will not break me. will not cage me. will not be me.
  Oct 2017 thebutterfly-writes
tobi
POS
treat me well
or treat me badly
either way
i'm still a *******
the battle with my self worth rages on
how i wish
one day you'd find
the one.

she - who would
know you
more than you do.
he - who would
care enough
to repair you.
she - who would
know what
this means to you.
he - who would
not be blind,
not be insensitive.
she - who would
see your poetry
and know
it's your heart.

and though
i know bigger
catastrophes deserve
more poems,
that this pathetic
poem is a smoke,
not a cloud.
but i think
it still matters
that you'll
have someone
who will not
close their fists
upon your heart...

...after trusting it with them.

so when you find yours,
find me and tell me
how to find mine.
**** ME UP WORLD just kidding i'm so depressed so here's a depressing poem i hope no one finds my corner of the internet and realize i'm a ******
they say,
"**** kid you write so much"

i say,
"how could i not when my home
was stripped off words
for so long -
so ******* long that my lips cracked
like aged paint tearing off walls.
and i thought my voice
will forever be lost in these desolate rooms
that i learned how to scream
without having to make a noise."

and maybe if they say,
"**** kid you write so well"

i'll reply with a shrug,
"maybe for you...
but i never thought about it
all i know is that i've felt empty
for so long -
for so ******* long that now i let myself write.
write whatever. to fill the empty
rooms with new, colorful paint."

-n.c.
Just wrote this and didn't even edit it or check for errors. I guess sometimes being impulsive in writing lets us surprise ourselves with what what we truly feel inside.
i see you at crossroads
your face the only landmark
i have traveled both ways
more than once
the traveler in me
have been lost for ages
catch me turning around the corner
catch me falling for you

you are the crossroad
but none of these trails
will ever lead to you
don't know what led me to write this really. it's not like, i was inspired to or anything, idk. lol.
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