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Luna Craft Sep 2016
Such a thief, stealing so many of my glances
A Robin Hood, taking from my once rich heart
I had so much to love; yet locked it all from those outside
Allowing only collectors of childish heartbeats to enter;

Like most thieives, you work in the night
Quiet words, light touches,; you took all I had saved
If only you hadn't followed the story of Robin Hood so blindly
Because you gave my love to another.
Luna Craft Jul 2016
I've made being depressed a habit
As if ceasing this life would make me feel less tired
Pretend that I learned something new to appease this emptiness;
Stuffing filth in bloodied wounds does not heal them
Bandages will never fully heal closed scars
Dying will never help this uselessness
I can only stay here, in between alive and dead
The catatonic state that I'm so used to
Luna Craft Jun 2016
We never really changed did we?
We're still just children, the term adult is only a title paid in lifespan.

There's no real requirement, it took less effort moving forward then it did standing still,

Like there was no real reason I needed to try, life would push me off the cliff on my own, it outfitted me with a piece of yarn and told me to jump.
Like that would save me, I wasn't given a chance.

Maybe if my family cared more about education and less about alcohol- or if anxiety didn't riddle my lungs each and every time I opened my ******* mouth- but no, I'm stuck as a mangled corpse used as a warning to rich brats with close family

'Don't be like her, go to college, have kids, die with a family to repeat the cycle'

How many would truly want that if they hadn't been told since exiting the womb that it is their one goal.

We could have philosophers, travelers, those who are pure of heart and thinking.

Instead we pumped them full of lies, sent them off and hoped for a rerun;
Luna Craft Jun 2016
You can tie me up and break me
Control every inch of my soul
Put me on an assembly line of mirror images
Sculpt me how you ******* want
But for the love of god let me tie my own noose
Let me end this game
I'm so tired
Luna Craft Jun 2016
There is a strange feeling of contempt in my home
I've grown used to the beatings
Whether it be a tongue lashing or being dragged across the halls
Both feel the same, I no longer cry, I feel only emptiness
I expect it now, the scent of bourbon seems to follow it home
It clings to all life and ***** it dry, a concubine not fit to marry
We keep it in our closets, behind shallow doors that do not shut
As if to hide them.
Luna Craft Jun 2016
Treat the flower in a dead field not as a statement but a marker
It stands in the corpses of fallen comrades as they slowly waste to earth
A gravestone at most, a parasite to all that its roots once knew
It will probably thrive more from their bodies then it did in their company
Dull linen hung over a coffin, a decorative use for a tragedy
Like broken signs, they always point in two different directions
Follow your mind and go off track, follow your heart and risk it breaking
Understanding is key, that is all you can strive for
To know those around you, to connect and touch hearts
Realize how much energy they take and wait
Watch them waste into a morning sun that does not rise
Then soak in what you've experience, be mournful yet strong
A gravestone if you will, turn into a name and a date
Become nothing but a stencil for children
Burnt paper and the past
Luna Craft Jun 2016
It's always like this
We fight, kiss, makeup
Cries from both of our lungs
We **** each other when bodies touch
Like mourn less regret, we say no words
Our understanding lies just under sheets but it never escapes
Like caged words trying to break out of teeth
The only chemistry we have is alone in a dark room
Where no words are said and the only sound is flesh
We love our bodies not our minds
Like brittle flowers that bloom together, roots intertwined
Good night, good morning, a vicious cycle that has no end
But we've killed our fair share of souls
It's time to end this mess
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