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You'll envy every bit of unblemished skin
You see on those without it.
You'll wonder why you never seem to win.
You think you're well, but you're falling into a pit.

You'll cry more tears than ever.
You'll cry as if everyday you've lost,
And sometimes it feels like you'll never
Cry again.

You'll count the cost
Of living
When so tired of giving
You'll slip away,
Vowing to not see the next day.

They'll tell you of all the pain
It will bring to them
When your tears fall like rain
You'll be too numb

To think of anything else
But the road to your death
You'll see your belts
And wish they would take away your breath

You'll lose, you'll gain,
You'll forget who you were.
Do you write poetry to get it all out
Or to hide it?
Do you  write because  you  want to scream
And shout, or because you cant hide it?

I write when  im lonely
When the demons inside me get roudy
When the drugs  come a'howlin
And my familys looking over  me,
Frowning

I write  when the slits on my wrists  look like the telephone  lines i should be calling
But instead of screaming i just end up scrawling
All my pathetic  overstated  woes
Right here

So  facilitate  me, you strangers
Love this post.  Even though i hate it
Youve no idea the dangers im in
Trying to stay  away from that whole bottle of gin
In the corner

Facilitate  my anxieties
Show me your  all just sheep
Flocking  to  litterature like the  bowls of soup attract the meak

Im not a person here.
None of you really care
Are you even self aware
Do you know That even though its poetry
Theres a person  there?
Why do i even write none of you are even aware of my existance im not an artist
I need help
and all this site does  is facilitate  my resistance
What if
          I
                                                  ­Fall
In
              Love
With
      A
       Poet?
What if he mesmerises me
       With his lines?
What if
        His words touch me
        And kiss
           Through my skin?
     What if i search for
Him
Everyday
And
      Travel through
              His words
    And meet him
                  Somewhere
       And
We
       Become bare
          And he caresses
Me
          With every
      Stanza
And
       Here
           I am
                Again
Searching
           For him,
    Wanting
Him
        With
                 All
                      Desire
Waiting
             For
                 His
                   Next
                      Poem
                         To
                            Take
                             ­ Me
                          To
                       His
                   World
                Where
             We
          Will
        Lay
      Bare
   What if
               I
                  Fall in love
                      With
                  A
             ­         Poet?

© Evna-Luna
I am just 12 days old on this site and this poem has already bn chosen as A Daily?
I am Amazed and Surprised.
Thanks to hello poetry and every of you.
I am taking a hiatus for now because of some reasons
Regards
Evna-Luna
I'm so far inside myself
Starting to feel like someone else
Getting lost in the dreams
Of the girl in mirror
That I can no longer see
She's beginning to scare me
And it seems like my mind
Is her favorite flavor of coffee
She drinks up my thoughts
And gets a rush of energy
All I can feel for her is envy
Yet, she's supposed to be inspiring
And me? I'm practically dying
Just waiting for the mood to strike
Finding the right music to surround me
It's tiring and
I've been living life so patiently
Feeling like
It's starting to get to me
Breaking the mirror inside my eyes
Does nothing
Neither does smoking out my mind
She just seems to soak it all in
Breathing in the fumes of my coffee
Giving me nothing but an empty space
And my face
Is just her face, minus the evil grin
I can't even begin
My muse is addicted
Trying to get her on the mend
Find the fix she needs
So this beginning
Doesn't start with the end
I'm having tea with Life,
And his band of Disappointments.
They dine at my expense,
And they're a hungry bunch of guests.

Tea turned into Supper,
Where the Disappointments drank
My finest wine,
And Life wiped his cruel mouth
On my tablecloth.

You can't have supper without dessert,
So they ate up more of my
Food for thought.
And if you stay for dessert,
You may as well spend the night.
So they did
And burgled my pantry of hopes
For a midnight snack.

One night was lovely,
So Life cackled, "Why not stay two?"
And two turned to a week,
And a week turned into
My sickeningly merry guests
Moving into my dreams,
And inviting in Doubt,
To live with them too,
And of course
Pay no rent.

So I watch my chaotic household
Of a skull,
Where Life has made himself at home
And brought all of his friends.
I stare dully at my ruined
Dining room of thought,
Which they have dominated.
And look wearily for a spare idea
In my raided cupboards.

I've never been one
To evict friends,
So I suppose they're here to stay.
But learn a lesson from me,
And don't ever
Have Life over for tea.
Open up and let me in

Open doors and open arms

Open concepts, because I want to make a home with you

Open-ings Begin-ings Start-ing

Open House, the first time I pretended you were mine

Open to you

Oh pen

Oh

pen

to paper

and fingers to keys, I could never explain how my legs opened to you because you were already mine and we’d done this before, just not with each other.  Though we already knew that I was the last person you’d touch and you were the last person I’d touch.  After that day,

We closed our doors to the world
That time we spent together was influential for me.
He was like Halloween.
Fun and exciting, scary and weird.
He introduced me to things about myself that I didn't know.
I loved him for exposing a side of himself to me that most people never got to know.
To this day, I think he still loves me.
Purely.
I broke his heart after spending all night on the phone telling each other how much we meant to the other, I ran away in fear and there was an entire year that we didn't speak and I felt like I was going crazy.
I loved that boy.
The late nights, the alcohol, the ****, starlit drives, the bond we created.
I have never met someone who so honestly said how he felt.
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