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6.5k · Jan 2018
what do you know?
laura-jessica Jan 2018
so happy
so happ
so hap
so ha
so h
so
s
su
sui
suic
suici
suicid
suicida
suicidal
edit: thank you for all your feedback, it is nice to hear support as well!
2.5k · Jan 2018
never to nothing
laura-jessica Jan 2018
never ending love
never ending lov
never ending lo
never ending l
never ending
never endin
never endi
never end
never en
never e
never
neve
nev
ne
n
no
not
noth
nothi
nothin
nothing
nothing l
nothing la
nothing las
nothing last
nothing lasts
nothing lasts f
nothing lasts fo
nothing lasts for
nothing lasts fore
nothing lasts forev
nothing lasts foreve
nothing lasts forever.
hi! this is my interruption of love. if you have a different idea i respect that! please respect mine **
1.4k · Dec 2018
pretty petty lies
laura-jessica Dec 2018
im so sad
im so sa
im so s
im so
im s
im
i
im
im s
im so
im so f
im so fi
im so fin
im so fine
laura-jessica Jul 2018
you know that little rush of adrenaline you get when you're about
to fall?

that's what it feels like to have anxiety.

to be on edge all the time,
thinking you're about to be pushed over

into a sea of people
drowning you

it feels like





you






are





dying

inside yo
                  u
                      r
                        
                
                                   mi
                                              nd
550 · Feb 2018
fille de la lune
laura-jessica Feb 2018
she was like the moon.

a bright light with imperfections
but,
like the moon she had a dark side.
it was darker then black.

it was cold.
no one liked it there so they'd only stay when it was sunny.

she didn't want to be the moon,
the girl wanted to be the sun.

everyone loved the sun, bright, happy and vibrent.

she would give anything to the sun.
but,

she was like the moon.
if you do not speak french, the title says "daughter of the moon"
400 · Jan 2018
skin exterior.
laura-jessica Jan 2018
sometimes i want to take off my skin.
and show everyone what lies i hid under my complexion.

there is no where to run, to lies to hide behind

just the painful truth

the agonizing honesty i've hidden behind a simple smile.
the words i wanted to speak but never had the courage to say.

our skin is just something we hid behind to shield our real selves and our true form and what we all have under our exterior is the

s a m e.

we are all identical.
391 · Mar 2018
wait until you're older.
laura-jessica Mar 2018
"you're too young, you don't need to know what love is yet,
you have a whole life time."

what if i took your advice?
what if i waited until i was older,
but only lived a day longer?

i waited,
i never got my first kiss,
i never experienced my first love,
i never felt tingly, funny of butterflies,
all because of your opinion.

what if my infinity is only 13 years?
what if i don't live to see a another sunset or sunrise?

and you didn't let me love,
or feel anything close to that because i was "too young"

but what if i died tomorrow,

and waited until i was older to love?
351 · Dec 2018
The Heart Mends
laura-jessica Dec 2018
sometimes to fix a broken heart,

you have to hurt it even more than the last time

it was in pain.
laura-jessica Jan 2018
bones.
i want to see more bones on my body.
i want to see the way the make crevices and bump out of my skin.
i want to be able to pinch my collar bone.

legs.
i want skinner legs.
i want to have a thigh gap.
i want to fit into a 000 jeans.

scale.
i want you to be lower.
315 · Apr 2018
pressure weather
laura-jessica Apr 2018
when the clouds cry,
why doesn't anyone ask why its sad,
instead of pressuring it into

false sunshine?
hm, something to think about
308 · May 2018
fright in a mind
laura-jessica May 2018
sometimes i scare myself so bad,

i want to runaway from my own mind.
300 · Feb 2018
wild fun
laura-jessica Feb 2018
we're pretending that we're so cool,
with our terrible dancing and music

but we keep doing what we do.

we were ballistic until the sun rose.

jumping around to the same five lyric-less songs
not dancing, jumping.

our society is messed up,
but for that moment,
that night,

we were okay.

we lived with nothing but our hearts upon our sleeves.
our smiles weren't fake that night,

just 68 thirteen year olds having the time of their life with out their parents for 4 days.

there was no drinking or ****,
we were high off of each others energy.
we were feeding off it.

i felt alive.

i saw the world in colour.
PLEASE READ
this was about the time were my whole grade went on a trip and we had a huge party and it was great, i was so happy.

i've had this written for a while and i haven't gotten the courage to publish it, well here it is. i thought it was the right time because my poems are so depressing and this poem makes me smile so yeah.
what do you guys think?
291 · Nov 2018
she's better than.
laura-jessica Nov 2018
don't waste your time on a broken butterfly like me,

when you can have a blossoming caterpillar like her.
264 · Mar 2018
star sky
laura-jessica Mar 2018
what happens when one star dies, in the sky of one million?

does the whole sky seem dimmer?

or does it stay the same?
257 · Dec 2018
new life
laura-jessica Dec 2018
highschool

drug deals and parties,

drunk texting and ***,

condoms and bathroom make-outs,

diets and binges.


highschool
-
252 · Jan 2018
bubblegum heart
laura-jessica Jan 2018
you popped my bubble gum heart,
with five simple words.

"i don't love you anymore."

now all that remained,
what i've left unsaid,

"but i still love you."
is what i feel for you.

like chewed up gum,
worn-out and colourless,
is how i feel without you.
224 · Feb 2018
what happened?
laura-jessica Feb 2018
what happened?
what happened to the sun being bright and beautiful?
when it kissed my shoulders while i ran with my mates
around the playground.

what happened to the times where protection meant wearing a helment?
when i didn't need worry about being a female,
being catcalled or molested.

where my only care in the world was being first in a race to the
school line.

what happened to the times where i could eat and not worry about the calories i'm eating?
what happened to not caring about still being able to fit a fist between my thigh gap.

why did i have to grow up?
i've lost my child-likeness.
my innocence left after i hit puberty.

society says you can't be sad.
s a d.
s
  a
    d
   a
s.

what happened to being able to cry and not judged.

what happened to the times where i actually wanted to live?
see to world.

what happened to me?
222 · Feb 2018
the right.
laura-jessica Feb 2018
what gives you the right to hurt someone so bad,
they want to hurt themselves?

what gives you the right to tear their light straight from the heart?

how can a person hold so much hate in their heart?
what you do you have that makes you better than us?

how do you live with yourself that you put down everyone you see with a smile?

how on earth do you live with yourself when you make someone want to end their life because you put them in such excruciating pain.

how do you look yourself in the mirror when you put shimmer gloss on your rose bud lips, when your tongue is black tar.

what motivates a person to drive a happy kid into therapy because of self esteem issues?

what give you the right?
not specially written about me, however i do reckon this problem (bullying) should be addressed
211 · Feb 2018
bullet wound band-aid
laura-jessica Feb 2018
you shot in the heart
with four simple words,

"i don't love you"

you tried fix it with a "sorry"

but that was like putting a band-aid over a bullet wound.
209 · Feb 2018
wrist paintings in red.
laura-jessica Feb 2018
little girls don't play with dolls.
they paint.

deep paintings and the thin.

a blade, her brush.

her wrist, the canvas.

the little girl only used red when she painted,

and her paintings would never leave her body.

they would stay there, reminding her of every emotion she
illustrated on her pale body.

the girl was a painter,
a true artist.

never had she wanted to become one,
but she did.

little girls don't play with dolls.
they paint.
enjoy **
206 · Jan 2018
child
laura-jessica Jan 2018
yes i am young,
i am a child,
i have yet to experience the world.

maybe i don't know what love is quite yet.

but i do know what i feel
or felt
for someone i held dearly.

i may be an adolescent, but when i first turned 13

i knew i have experienced love.
not true love, but love,

do not tell me how i feel and how i don't
or how i should or how i shouldn't.

i met someone i loved at a juvenile age.

yes i am young
i am a child,
i have yet to experience the world.

maybe i don't know what love is quite yet.

but i know how i feel.
201 · Jan 2018
hi im --
laura-jessica Jan 2018
my illness is something that is apart of me.
it is solely not me.

it is not the only thing i focus on.

whenever i tell someone i suffer from a mental illness, they have more questions then i can count. also including some accusations and negative comments.

but if i tell them about me, they reply with a "cool" or a "nice." and don't seem interested at all.

everyone seems more interested in MY mental illness, not ME.

i am not my illness.

i don't say "hi, i'm depression"

no.

i do say "hi, i'm laura"

yes i have an illness, it is a part of me.

but not me
laura-jessica Feb 2018
Russian dance,
Russian dancer.

perfect movement,
timing jointly along with your group.

charming steps,
do not fall.

long red dresses,
nylon tights under.

impress the elders with your complicated,
yet beautiful dance.

dance like a beautiful Russian doll.
i'm not sure why i wrote this, but i was inspired for some reason)
189 · Apr 2018
what my relapse felt like.
laura-jessica Apr 2018
i was alone.
in the bath, the hot water swaying all the way to my neck.

my hot hot tears helped fill the clear bath,
as they came pouring out with no sobs or emotion.

i stared at the ceiling counting the microscopic dots,
trying to distract myself.
trying to avoid it.

eventually the voices started yelling at me and i need them to stop.

it was overwhelming for anyone who has gone through that.
i am barely a teenager, why me?

a blinked passed and the cool metal sat between the 2nd knuckle of my pointer finger and my thumb.

it just got louder.
and louder.
and louder.

just one time and you'll feel better.
one cut.

just another.
two cut.

three cut.

four cut.

and suddenly all i saw was red.

red blade.

red water.

red wrist.

red blood.



i thought scarce 'what have i done?'
186 · Feb 2018
teen idle.
laura-jessica Feb 2018
i wish i have lived as a teen idle,

always smiling a pure,
always feeling like a million infinites.

drinking until i ache,
coming to make a big mistake.

high on puppy love,
saying its real and true.

summer flings that don't mean a thing.

tight waist,
thigh gap.

never derange,
always strange.

conned boys,
and wild girls.

i wish i was the girl everyone wants to be.

i wish i have lived as a teen idle.
186 · Feb 2018
play pretend heart
laura-jessica Feb 2018
have you ever gotten your heart broken?

i have,
it was terrible.

it was so unbearable that i shut it off.

i turned my emotions off.
i gave up happiness to not feel pain.

i couldn't handle feeling.

so i thought,

the best way not to get your heart broken is to pretend you don't have one.
184 · Apr 2018
The Kids are Not innocent.
laura-jessica Apr 2018
his lips are soft like a sweet child's blanket,
but his tongue likes to naughty dance with mine.

i can feel his passion on me and we both got combusted into it.

his hands gripped on my petite waist like he was riding a bicycle.

he tastes just like vanilla,
he's just as sweet as buttercream.

his cheeks are like an oven,
burning up around me.

he's anything but innocent,
but he's more than just a 14 year old boy.
182 · Jan 2018
i am fake.
laura-jessica Jan 2018
i do not write poetry.
i do not write poetry, my soul touches the blank paper and blurts out some truth.

i am not a poet, i do not write poetry.
i am not a poet. my heart spills the ink onto the page and lets me take credit. i do not write poetry, my soul touches the blank paper and blurts out some truth.

i am not original, i am not a poet, i do not write poetry.
i am not original. i copy a poem that my mind already wrote and then i plagiarize it. i am not a poet. my heart spills the ink onto the page and lets me take credit. i do not write poetry, my soul touches the blank paper and blurts out some truth.

i am not original, i am not a poet, i do not write poetry.
laura-jessica Feb 2018
slit my wrist,
cut my thighs,
fill my mind terrible pain.
take the pills,
**** yourself

thats
just one more
reason
to
go
die.
not written about myself. just an idea i came up with.
167 · Sep 2018
same old ending.
laura-jessica Sep 2018
when the cold tears arrive,

and the warm love rots.

the black darkness of hate,




stays the same.
oh hey, it has been a while!
166 · Jan 2018
drowning in myself
laura-jessica Jan 2018
i'm lost in an ocean,
sinking in quick sand thats not so quick.

slowly i'm sinking deeper and deeper each day.
and you're just watching from the side lines.
you wont throw me a rope
or help me.

you just silently watch me.

when i finally drown you say you didn't see the signs.

but darling.

you drowned me.
i wrote this a month after i turned 12!!! i was just a baby! i just wanted to share this haha
159 · Feb 2018
not mine
laura-jessica Feb 2018
its impossible to get you off my mind,
i know and understand you will
never

be

mine.

thats alright.

i'm just breaking inside.
159 · Mar 2018
cut
laura-jessica Mar 2018
cut
i am trying to cut myself out of this body.
158 · Jan 2018
zero pounds
laura-jessica Jan 2018
tears ran down my pale dead-like face like an Olympic track race.
standing on the scale with noting but my bare flesh.
no clothes no hide behind.
just me.

at that young moment, i suspensefully realized that i wouldn't be happy until i was down to zero pounds.

at that oppressing second i wanted to get better.

but if i get better i wont be beautiful and thin.

i will not be happy until i get to zero pounds.
laura-jessica Feb 2018
the broken girl was a puddle of depression,
everyone stepped on her or tried to avoid her.

she tried to clean it up,
but it just rained.

it rained for days.

it seems as so she was drenched it the wet rain of depression.

no one handed her yellow rain-boots or a raincoat
or a umbrella.

she just stood in her soaked blue clothes.
she was not dressed for the weather,

she wore shortties and a tank because she thought she would
be playing in the sunshine with the other boys and girls.

but she just watched, far way from them

in her puddle of depression.
i'm thinking of starting a poetry series called "tales of the broken girl" what do you guys think?

i would love to hear feedback on this poem, i'm real proud of ir.
158 · Jan 2018
bright darkness'
laura-jessica Jan 2018
as a child i used to have to bright, succulent, emerald eyes.
behind the lids of my eyes there was an over powering light that never blew out.

now as a just-turned-teen, i have dull, grey, eyes that lost their sparkle.
now, behind my eyes lids is something worse then pandora box's contents.

then there was the light i owned.

it's is dull and black and i wouldn't call a light anymore, it was more of a

bright darkness.
157 · Feb 2018
a human, not an object
laura-jessica Feb 2018
h   o n l y    h
     u                       u    
m                   m
a                   a
n      i      n
a
m
         h u m a n   a   p  e r s o n    
     p  
e
r
s
o
n,
  n    o
o          b
t                j
a                  e
n                     c
                       t
what do you think of this?
154 · Feb 2018
our hearts
laura-jessica Feb 2018
broken hearts are terrible,
but remember,

a heart thats been broken
is one thats been loved
laura-jessica Mar 2018
he was broken boy.
she was broken girl.

broken boy drank liquor to fill his hollow, emptiness.
he is so sad.

his diamond blue eyes were beautiful but his sparkle  held back so much pain,
so much hurt
and so much sadness.

he was dressed in blue and black from head to toe,
and no one noticed.

until broken girl.

broken girl cut her wrist's to distract her self from the
emotional pain, it worked well. until it would **** her.
she was so sad.


her emerald eyes were dull and pale, but behind them it hid something new,
something gold.

and for that she can see through every lie, every "i'm fine"
every lie broken boy told her.

broken boy didn't know this, but she cared for him,
like a child loving it's blanket.

broken boy didn't get enough loving,
broken girl loved him.

broken girl loved the alcohol boy,
maybe he would love sad girl back.

maybe he cared as much as she did,
she didn't know she could feel this way,





until she did.
PLEASE READ!!!!
based on true events that had happened to me.
so when i say dressed in blue and black, i mention it in some of my other  poems and it means "he was dressed in sadness and depression from head to toe"

this, by far, is one of the most truthful poems  i've written. its a sad love story that recently happened (and still occurring)

i hope you like this poem as much as i do!
149 · Mar 2018
would you?
laura-jessica Mar 2018
"Just cheer up! you ungrateful brāt!"


would you tell a cancer patient to just get better?
148 · Apr 2018
idgaf
laura-jessica Apr 2018
i can be your worst ******* nightmare,
or i can be your best **** daydream.

don't cross me.
146 · Mar 2018
the night i died.
laura-jessica Mar 2018
the night i died was a tragic, vain intention.

it took place in poster full bedroom,
with
a chair,
a rope,
and pocket full of tears.

the night i died, i rolled out of my body watching everything around me.
i saw my fraile body hanging there by a rope,
pale and lifeless
and very much

dead.

when my body hit the ground with a loud thump,
i backed away, mortified, and flickered my head to the white door that reminded of a soft delicate bunny.

my mother called out to me.
she repeated my name once.
twice.
three times.

she bursted into the room with an expression i could not read.
i studied her face more until she screamed,
my father was next,
he just dropped to his knees and lifted my neck out of the necklace of doom.

they knew i was gone.

before i knew it we were in the E.R,
my mother was screaming for somebody as my father held me and let the tears fall onto my grey and blue sweatshirt.

i was still in my black jeans and dad's sweatshirt.

my body was instantly laid onto a stretcher
and was rushed into a room where my parents could not enter.

my father was holding my mother back from running to me,
although it was just my body, i was next to her.

it was the three of us.

i was in the E.R trying to be brought back with electrocution of some sort,
my mother was silently sitting on those black chairs that were very uncomfortable and plastic,
my father was sitting on the left of her, staring at the floor,
i was watching them, trying to figure out why they loved me so much.

the bald doctor finally dragged his feet back out to the hall,
and called out our last name.

my mum and dad looked at him with hope but all he did was apologize.

there were screams,
cries,
dragged out 'o' in no,
save her,
and why my child?

they told them they could go ahead and see me, i was now in the morgue,
in a white grown with scattered polka dots all over.

my rosy cheeks were drained to a whispered pale,
my ******-brown hair was still long and flowed off the bed,
my freckles seemed less visible, they matched the colour of soft caramel when they were really a a deep brown.
my lips were white and chapped,
and my eyes were closed.

and there was a burned, red thick line from the rope all the around my small neck.

my mother ran three fingers down my temple to my cheek,
she whispered "i love you, my baby."

my father said "i love you, princess."

my body just laid there in complete silence, nothing but their soft sobs filled the room.

i stood next to them and i choked an apology but they cant hear me,
i'm dead.

my mother carefully took ahold of my limp hand and intertwined my with hers.
my nails were still chipped and were covered in black nail polish that i refused to take off because i never wore any other colour.

she ran her thumb over my knuckles and stared at me, with again, a gaze i am not familiar with.

they stayed for over two hours watching me, crying and sobbing.

after that, the doctors told my parents it was time to go, my father almost had to drag my mum out of the morgue.

leaving me and my body in the room alone.

i was scared.
i wanted my mother.
i wanted my father.
i wanted my sister.
i wanted to go back.

i don't want to be dead.

but, that was the night i died.
143 · Jul 2018
you
laura-jessica Jul 2018
you
you inflicted your broken problems onto me,
you should've known better than to cry on my shoulder
i was too young,
too innocent,
now breakdown in the middle of the night,

the way you did.
143 · Mar 2018
firecracker
laura-jessica Mar 2018
i may look like a scared little girl,
but on the inside

i'm a firecracker.

and when the time comes i'm going explode in your face.
142 · Apr 2018
don't shoot
laura-jessica Apr 2018
when did my safety,
become victimized by a gun?

what made you want to s
                                             h
                                               o
                                                 o
                                                   t   a gun at our future?
what made you want to h
                                          u
                   ­                      r
                                       t  us?


when did my safety become the 2nd priority?
141 · May 2018
can you?
laura-jessica May 2018
can you hear my screaming silence
from where you're sitting?

can you hear my bleeding depression that seldom
slips out of my pale moon lips?

can you see my suffocating pain thats written in my eyes? its in fine print, but it is there.


can you see me? i am dying.
140 · Jan 2018
dead ends
laura-jessica Jan 2018
when its at the end of your road, where do you hide?
where do you seek?

whats the point if your at a dead end?
its a long painful road.
like walking on hot charcoal without shoes.

whats the point in this?
i don't know the right road.

this is the only pathway i've known.
i think i was 11 when i wrote this! x
140 · Apr 2018
um what?
laura-jessica Apr 2018
14 year old girls in my high school are out here getting pregnant, mean while i cant even get a boy to text me back?
138 · Jan 2018
kisses and make-outs
laura-jessica Jan 2018
hugs and kisses up until now.

a whole new world has peeled before my eyes.

flirty actions and make-out sessions has been forced upon us

alcohol and boys make a great party.

drama and girls happens everyday.

teenage life, what a blast.

R.I.P to my blissful youth.
no meaning behind this. just thought it was true.
137 · Jan 2018
my parents.
laura-jessica Jan 2018
my parents, my biggest supporters.
they want me to me succeed with my dream the most.
always encouraging me.
always happy for me.

yet,

my parents, are the one's who are dragging me down the most.
restraining me from my potential that can be beautiful.
telling me that i need to think realistically.

telling me my dreams are just dreams.


the ones who love you the most, can be the ones who push you down the most.
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