Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mariah Reagan Nov 2014
#25
I cried a little on the outside
And died a little on the inside
Whenever you left me
I gave up on ever being satisfied

I wish I didn't feel empty
Because this sadness is hallowing
And it's making me wallow
Until I weep

I just want to taste happiness again
I barely remember it at all
I remember all that gin
And cigarettes from last fall

Which is irony at its finest
Because I look at you
And you were the saddest
From my point of view

I remember your eyes
And how much promise they held
It was something I despised
Because it was a future of fails

Your negativity was a disease
To all of your humanity
You became so numb
And so unwilling

Your music saved you
But only temporarily
I wanted to save you forever
But you got up and left me

That tore me apart
Because you never cared about me
You were just bored
And I was the closest thing
Mariah Reagan Nov 2014
#18
Sadness tastes like the weather
And it's storming down here
The rain is flooding our hearts
And making it difficult for any new starts

I'm stuck in this tornado
Being tossed at everything I don't want to know
I'm getting sick
This isn't the life I wanted to pick

This golf ball sized hail
Is making my life feel like hell
Falling on everything I believe in
And turning it into something I cannot stand

The wind is pushing me in every direction
And making me feel too much emotion
It will ruin everything
All because I chose to feel something

In a few months
There will be a drought
I'll want to drop everything and run
But there will be no way out

I'm running in circles now
I just want to get better
But I don't know how
I don't think I can stand this any longer
Mariah Reagan Nov 2014
#34
I quit everything I'm not the best at and I think that's why I quit loving. I turned it into this twisted idea of possessive obsessing instead of the sweet incense of passion burning. But with eyes as cold as mine, I always extinguished the flames that worked hard to singe everything. And I guess that when you left, you were like the sun that grew apathetic toward trying so I was left with my world collapsed and it died looking for comfort in knowing. I grew weary of misunderstanding why no one ever loved me so I collected my walls and fists like albums and started punching. The bruises were blue and discolored as if they paralleled with my soul on a pH scale from love to **** because people love to **** and people **** what they love (I guess that's why I still haven't killed myself). And my soul was discontented with being compared so it faded black with a set of sedatives to make it numb. I got addicted, and they made me realize how wrong I was. They made me see you more clearly. I didn't believe in love because I didn't understand it or how it worked or how it had anything to do with those two little doves. I had never seen any proof and I had never seen the good. It was all natural with you, and my desire was yours too, and by the time I almost felt my heart beating again, my hope tried running through my veins but they were too withered and I was forced to go numb again.
Mariah Reagan Nov 2014
#33
I am stitched together with threads of regret. I constantly think about my compunctious what-might-have-beens. I want to forget everything so I put it on an old cassette, but it still continuously plays on repeat in my head. It scratches and scratches until I can't handle the pressure. I burst and each nerve in my body forms a million ruptures. Every one around me becomes overwhelmed and my good intentions are shattered. They enter a new realm. It's dark just like my soul, and it's lonely just like my sad heart. I'm alone here; my only company is this tempting blade I use to make all kinds of art. Maybe if I write something down, I'll feel less in a haze. I pick up the blade and start to write stories on each arm hoping that someday I might belong. For my wrists, I write about every night I spent in your car with the music turned up too loud for my thoughts and for my forearms, I write about every joke we ever shared that means nothing to you now. For my palm, I write lines of song lyrics that you told me to listen to because you thought they would help me get out but now they keep me in a pool that's not deep enough for me to drown. I'm stuck in this mental state and I'm choking on all the pills my doctor prescribed me. I want to get out permanently so I write some more on paper and begin overdosing.
Mariah Reagan Nov 2014
#32
I held the moon with my clenched hands. My skin stretched so tight, just trying to cover all the craters. I expand, expand, expand. I expanded so far, I finally exploded, exploded, exploded. I was trying to protect you but I damaged you even more into a molded piece of rock that went through years of erosion, erosion, erosion. You eroded into a piece of nothing: a selfish ******* that left me cynical that you would ever become something important. Something, something, something, I repeat as I think of anything that might glue you back to your roots of red, white and blue. Blue when you were sad, red when your wrists got sore, white when you were laying on the floor waiting to be dead, dead, dead. Barely breathing, the only thing that was keeping you alive was the way you thrive on other peoples' death, death, death. That's all you think about. You think it out loud. You wonder how many people you can **** with bombs that hiss out your mouth. You destroy their will, will, will. When will you finally see that during your unholy matrimony with sin, you murdered yourself? Everything inside you was trying to get out, you ****** the demons in and got too overwhelmed. Now you're just several meteors looking for a new earth to overwhelm, overwhelm, overwhelm.
Mariah Reagan Nov 2014
#29
She made art on her arms.
All of her most detailed memories were written in lines of scars.
Slices of melancholy flowed like rivers on her wrists.
The poetry of it all meant that she was too flawed to forget.
She dreads her constantly bruised fists.
How damaged can she get?
She's already ruined all of her relationships.
She sits at home only to find the company of netflix.
It's so lonely so she finds herself on twitter, only to find that her best friend has been ignoring her.
She hates how she can be so possessive.
It flows out from her sea of anger.
The absence of peace and tranquility gives her so much anxiety.
That's why she stops eating.
Her parents don't know it, but she didn't skip dinner just because she was loaded up with homework.
She sits in her room and repeats the process of what happens when her anger starts to control her.
It ******* ***** to be irascible.
Someone send her to a mental hospital.
Maybe then her existence will be somewhat irrefutable.
Mariah Reagan Nov 2014
#27
I am the ocean; you are the moon.
You inflict my tidal waves of emotion.
You like to cause my doom.
You're so far away, and I'm not sure how we have any relation.
You give me too much room.
I will always stay, but you keep running away.
You're always here in the darkest hour, but even then, you keep your distance safe.
There are a lot of craters where things have tried to get in, but you're still desperate to cling on to your isolation.
That's more than what most people can bare.
People want to explore you and understand you better but you've made yourself into your own nation.
You are its only population.
You won't let anyone in.
You still toy with the thought of me and think of me as a possession.
I fight for freedom but you won't let me go because you're too addicted to the sin.
You crave the control.
You know I'm so emotional, and the pain you inflict on me makes you smile.
You won't let me in and you won't let me go so it's back and forth with my confusion and watered down soul.
There are so many things thriving inside of me, but without you they can't survive.
I'm still so empty, but there's nowhere left for me to hide.  
You're bound to my entire world, and you hate it so much.
You just want to be on your own, so you punish me with your mood swings and gravitational love.
Next page