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 May 2015 Milah
Em or Finn
My skin with all the acne
My feet for being too big
My height
My style
My nails
My weight
My shyness
My uncleanliness
My work ethic
My weight
How I play my instruments
My physics grade
My hair
My personality
My smile
My teeth
My chest
My weight
My divorced parents
How my mom expects too much
My sloppy handwriting
How I can't express my feelings
My weight
My weight
My weight

That's all my mom seems to mention
Not my outfit
Or my oily hair
But my weight

She tells me to love myself
But how can I
When the person I look up to the most
Is always trying to change me
 May 2015 Milah
ajp
Daddy,
you broke my heart before any boy had a chance to.
He also took the special thing from me that I was saving for my soul mate
 May 2015 Milah
Michael Ryan
I try to explain the world--
the deeper meanings to my mumblings
all of it a frustrating mess,
an artist canvas splashed with too many colors--
that it becomes impossible to depict which is what.
Is that blue or is that aqua, I don't even know anymore.

When it comes to understanding my thoughts,
it becomes a psychotic break from reality--
where I imagine my fingernails scraping
chunks of flesh from my neck.
I plead for my hands to place themselves around my throat,
"Please suffocate yourself please just let me out"

Begging for someone to understand the mess,
that the khaki colored object actually means something.
Each splotch a representation of myself
every detail aligned to explain a greater idea.

As arguments end, they scribble deep within
a sketch book of sickening black ink;
Marks its place in the drippings of my thoughts,
making those colors lost in translation
so not even the painter knows how they feel.
How I feel when I argue or dispute with a person.  I honesty just want to rip myself out of my own skin so I don't have to be there anymore.  Because I want is for them/me to understand each other and be happy.
 May 2015 Milah
Kay
A letter
 May 2015 Milah
Kay
To anyone who has cared,
I'm sorry I leave you with this burden upon you now. To bear the weight of another lost cause. I am sorry I left you with so much mess to clean up. Clorox removes the blood, but the image is still there, isn't it ? I could apologize for everything, even by existence truly. But I am tired. I have exhausted all that was in me. My soul is tired. Tired of being strong. Tired of trying to please everything, and everyone. I am tired of being who you want me to be, I am tired of being misunderstood. Of having no one care enough to pull me back in when I needed it most. You made it obvious tonight, that you were tired of me. Tired of me, and my emotional baggage. Of my demons, of my problematic life. Trust me, I dont blame you. Anyone would have exhausted faster than you did. You pushed til it was evident, you were running on your last bits of sanity. I am sorry, I did everything I promised that I wouldn't do. I've made it harder for you; although so many times, I've tried so so much harder to make it so much more easier. I always failed. One of the many things I was never good at. Although, I'm staring at my screen, the luminosity hurting my eyes, wishing you'd try and push and care. I put myself in this position. I lied and said I was okay, I wasn't. I was breaking, being torn apart into pieces so unrecognizable. I was crying, I was heaving, and you pushed. I saw, but I pushed back. And i guess, Sweetheart, I guess that you simply couldn't take it anymore. I dont blame you. I'm horrible, a mess. You deserve better. A girl who would sing you lullabies with her smooth soft voice. Someone who threaded easily and gracefully. Rather, not a person who cried and screamed in agony because of her own personal torment. Not a girl born with two left feet, so clumsy I was in everything. I say was, and not am, because all I feel now is the dying embers of a soul that once was. And not is. All I feel is the ashes of a life that could have sprouted vibrantly and beautifully, but rather allowed the weeds to consume her. You were never one for poety, and I guess you'll never understand what I say, would you ? I guess I could apologize for that too. Even when I'm gone I'm confusing you, causing worry and doubt and hurt. What a sad excuse of a life, right ? I'm sorry I let you in so much, only to bring you so very down. I should have saved you from the fall. Who knows, you might just never read this. And all my words, my inconsistent, depressive ***** would be lost to times. I am a waste. A sad shell of a girl, a ghost of a pretty face. I left you without a warning, without a whisper. Without a sound. Im sorry my love, for the incomparable grief that I have ensued to your sensitive soul. I hope you do find someone better, I hope she treats you like I should have, like I couldnt have. I could have heard you said, I pushed you away, it was my fault. But you just wouldn't understand how depressing it could get. How ******* sad I felt. I haven't talked to anyone in the past 3 days. I lied when i said it was just today. I lied because you had exams. Maybe one day, you'd find this, and you'd hate me even more for the fact that yet again, she's hidden something from you. Yet again, I have lied.
I'm sorry.
Maybe the ***** would hit my veins before I do. Maybe the meds would.
And maybe, you'd be happier eventually without me around.
I'm sorry love. I'm sorry.
And maybe you'd figure out that I'm gone when you're done taking your space as well.
 May 2015 Milah
Jane
Deja vu
 May 2015 Milah
Jane
Could you pass me those cigarettes,
So I can smoke this pain away,
My death is seen well preset,
There should be no delay.

Drown my thoughts with your flame,
I think I'm the one to blame,
To you I brought upon shame,
And this was just a little game.

Cut my bleeding heart in two,
Your name written on it like tattoo,
We feels like a long lost deja vu,
And now my lungs are imbue.

All of these calm waves tonight,
I'd tell myself it'll be alright,
All I'll have to do is close my eyes,
And bid the world goodbye.
I prefer drugs over you
 May 2015 Milah
Julissa
This is a story about a girl
A girl who cared too much about the world
She got in her head that she was fat
Turns out she wasn’t and that’s a fact

There was a girl who care too much
She went about her life as such
She cut her thighs
And constantly worried about her size
That girl who cared too much

She starved herself
to please someone else
The girl who cared too much

Now she is dead
and nothing is to be said
about The girl who cared too much

Nobody knows why
she felt she had to die
No one ever saw her cry
The girl who cared too much

Before she died
She said with a sigh
“You won’t charge my mind
The choice is all mine”
The girl who cared too much

“You need to let it be
Because this is all me”
The girl who cared too much

It turned out she lied
The pain that was inside
Came from words she put aside
The girl who cared too much

It’s been a month now
And no one remembers how
they had always put her down
The girl who cared too much
I wrote this about myself the night before I attempted suicide
 May 2015 Milah
Traveler
HOBO ANTHEM
 May 2015 Milah
Traveler
Once I lived deep in a forest
My bleeding heart turned to stone
I disappeared out in the shadows
A hollow tree I called home

I know what it is to be a hobo
Train to train, same house twice
I know how it feels to beg and borrow
To share my roll with scratchy mice

Once I even tried to phone home
But the number slipped my weary mind
And when I finally did remember
It all seem such a waste of time

Do you know what it's like to be a hobo?
Nobody knows you when you're down
Memories haunt you like a cold wind
I was lost but now I'm found

Now I live upon a mountain
High above the raging sea
Timeless, old but not forgotten
This hobo nature inside of me...
Song lyrics.
I need a vocalist to accompany my guitar.
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