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-Indigo Apr 2014
last night I got no sleep.
I kept catching glimpses of ghosts in black veils.
they spoke to me, telling me to fear them.
but they had made a mistake.
for the saddest of humans can not fear the dark,
their presence just kept me awake.
so I sat up in my bed,
looked the tallest apparition in the eyes,
and simply said,
"go to sleep."
I turned out the lights,
pulled my blanket up to my eyes,
and began to count sheep.
-i.s.
-Indigo Apr 2014
people look at me like I am a crime scene.
they say, "leave her alone, she doesn't want love."
but what they knew was not true.
I was always looking for a boy
with dark brown eyes
and sun-kissed skin.
what they did not know
was that I was looking for you.
-i.s.
-Indigo Apr 2014
part of me feels like I should pray
part of me finds it quite foolish
to talk to my ceiling as if it has the answers
to all of my silly questions.
"oh, good man in the sky,
today I am sad.
if I killed myself,
would you send me to heaven
or to hell?"
as always, there was no response.
only continued silence.
and so I put my finger on the trigger
and whispered,
"might as well"
-i.s.
-Indigo Apr 2014
lonely children with minds of killers
take walks in the darkest nights
looking for someone to cling to
searching for a hand to hold

although I was ambitious
my father said don't go
but I've been trapped
within these garden gates
since I was eight years old

since my mother
ran away from here
but little did she know
her baby was a homocidal,
teenage, messed up soul

and my sister is much older now
she has made it on her own
found love with her high school sweetheart
each good deed makes my heart
cold

now I'm laying in my bedroom
shotgun at my side
wondering, "when will I get better?"
leave my body
by the oceanside
-i.s.
-Indigo Apr 2014
you looked into my eyes as I spoke.
I knew you were trying to figure me out,
because when I realized what you were doing...
I could feel my heart beat.
it felt as if you had been knocking on the doors
of my tall, black soul.
but no,
it was just my lonely heartbeat.
-i.s.
-Indigo Apr 2014
this time last year
we were sitting in a cluttered classroom
talking about feelings
and laughing about nothing.
this time last year
I was outside the walls of my bedroom
talking to people and conquering fears
but now
I stay inside of my bedroom
I write poems and listen to morbid music
and I don't talk to anyone,
not even my own family.
now...
I am wasting away in my toxic sadness
drawing pictures of bleeding hearts
and trying to find the girl
that I was from the start.
-i.s.

— The End —