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You cry as the blade slides across your
skin.

Your heart aches, you feel lost, you feel
alone, you‘re drowning.

You can see everyone around you
breathing.

This feeling of pain, of sorrow, of self—
hatred, its an agonizing pain.

I know how you feel, I feel it too.

My smile is fake, my heart is gone, I feel
like there‘s nothing left.

I'm tired of feeling this way, I know you
are too.

But I'm holding on, Im staying strong, I
need you to listen when I say, you can
make it through this.

Please don't cry
you may be broken but you‘re still
alive.

Just keep moving on, put down that
knife.

Hide the bottle live your life. You are
worth something, I am too.

I'm here to help.. don't push me away
don't be afraid sooner or later your
scars will fade.

Life will get better, this is just the
beginning.

So lift your head up and look at the
sky.. reach for the stars don't say
goodbye.
A poem about self harm
My mind a porcelain sculpture
the hollow inside containing all my thoughts
A gentle hand created its unique structure
every fine detail expresses strong emotion
My mind, a lovely work of art
beauty at its finest, with one exception
Thoughts, questions, memories, dreams all
may be formed inside, but can never leave
No big deal right? it's not as lovely as it seems
I'm forced to remember...everything...
every nightmare, every cut, every time I was hurt
It creates a piercing pain
making me wish I knew nothing
with every moment my lungs fill, every heart beat
the more it aches
My mind, crafted from porcelain, fragile yet strong
All I ask is for it to stop
I know what to do, to destroy what it makes
I write my final letter, knowing what i'm about to do will be a memory that i'll never forget.
Laying upon the bathroom floor
I cry in pain
screaming for the thoughts to leave me be.
As tears flood from my eyes
I press the cold metal of the gun to my head
I clench my fingers, pulling the trigger
The bullet rushes out shattering my mind
I am free and in the moment I feel no regret
My world now forever dead, and black
nothing else matters
and even if I were to come across regret
oh well... I can't go back.
I'm a ghost with a beating heart
trailing the earth, alive but dead
others viewing my dark mind as art
though i perceive it as a quilt sewn together
by the weakest thread.
So much is expected in the world of living
constantly pressured to be perfect
and if you fail it's not very forgiving.
The thing of life is that it's based on a society
this society sets the standards of your worth in life.
It is not known for its wide variety
I roam alone... not living by society but by me
I prefer to be an inspiration.
Everyone is their own individual
no-one should feel pressured to change.
Your soul should roam freely
not locked in societies cage.
The ones similar to I and are making their own path
are unaccepted, because they refuse to do
what is expected.
Typically the living world will
drive them to madness
and creating wounds on themselves
some wounds however
are not visible by sight.
Other wounds are created with weapons
during the night.
Many paths were started but never finished
because many had wounds
that couldn't even be fixed with stitches.
I however never breathe
i fill my lungs instead.
Join me in creating new paths
don't allow societies travelers to
lead you to self destruction
ending with you living under the flowers.
Finish your path
make it great , and do not quit.
The life form you have is lovely.
I started digging my grave, but instead
made a pond for the fishes.
Nothing is worth leaving your path unfinished.
Once you make it to the end of your path
the right way... then you may rest beneath
the stars, under unique flowers.
If it's your desire
you can finish another's path
and set their fears left behind on fire.
Society may be considered life's instructions
but life itself has none
so make your own and start constructing.
For I hope when you're done
the path was worth the trip.
You are your own... no other of you has existed till you and will never exist again. Make this existence the best.
See that blade?
imagine its smooth edge kissing your skin
allowing lovely scarlet blood to
drown away every sin.

See that mirror?
imagine loving your reflection
having no flaws, you'd never be
swarmed by rejection.

See that girl?
imagine being that size
you could shop freely without
being criticized.

See that lighter?
imagine it's hot flame sending a sensation
of tingly pain through your body
releasing any stress and tension..

See that toilet?
imagine purging that meal.
forcing all the food out till strong shivers
shake your spine; think of how good being thin would feel.

See your family?
imagine them always being happy
their lives can be great even if yours is a living hell
keep it all a secret, you don't have to tell.

See those pills?
imagine them really working
no more depression, anxiety, or tormenting dark thoughts
imagine all you could be
take them all, it's sure to set you free.

...? Can You Imagine ?...
One of my dreams growing up
Was to end up being a father and a family man
When I heard you were on your way
Was one of the first wishes
I was ever granted

I missed most of your first year
Because I was overseas
Although not a day went by
Without you on my mind

I came home
And watched you grow
Your smile and laughter
Reminded me of the innocence
I had lost while I had been gone

I may have not been the perfect father to you
But you have been the perfect son
You taught me how to be patient again
How to love and let someone in
There were times when I felt
You were the only one that understood me
And you were just a little baby

When you came into the world
Everything became a little more scary
Reality and priorities changed
Because I had to protect you from the evils
You also gave me hope
That the world wasn't that bad off
Because it had people like you in it

You patted my back when I was sad
You told me, "Everything is going to be alright, Dad"
You meant it and I believed you

I call you "future man" all the time
But the truth is,
You are a better man than most I've met

I am here for you
Always and forever
I am trying to be the man
For you to emulate
Is to die to yourself
Be born of a soul
Live in these words
And never be quite whole

Just an opportunity
To fill an expanse
Never pass it up
Take every chance
الليل متشابه،
في كُل أقطار الأرض،
السواد، الهدوء "للعياشين"، والنوم، الراحة والقلق للعامل والعاملة.
هو متشابه... بالرغم من تغاريد القنابل
التي تتفجر في بعض اﻷماكن.
ولكن بمثل تشابهُ الليل، تختلف الأحلام!
السكارى؟ الشعراء؟ النجوم؟ الكواكب؟
الليل فقير مِنهُم جميعاً
فهم لم ولن يكونوا سِوى فضلات لصّقت في جسمه.
لا يجيد لغتها،
و لا يبرق بلمعانها.
الليل متشابه ولن يتغير.
ولكن الوطن تغير و تبدل.
نُفينا مِن وطن مولدنا، فتهيأناه وطناً وسكنا فيه وهماً.
هكذا نحيا.
فارغين وفارغات من كُل شيء
إلا الغضب...
ذلك الغضب، يسري في أجزاء الجسد، هو نبض الصباح.

ننتظر ذلك اليوم
يوم ينتهي صبر الأرض علينا،
بعد أن تمتلئُ بنا...حد الثمالة، عندها ستبصقنا، إلى أعمق بقاعِها
هُناك تحت البشر... هل يا ترى سيذوب الغضب هناك؟
There are poems hidden in the limbs of the willow
Lines of rhyme flow from the music of the wren
Sonnets sit like angels atop clouds resting on hillsides
Waiting to instill those with pen and ink to script lyrics to enlighten
Triolets grow among pink, red and yellow petals of coneflowers

Poetry is the breath of our life, the sustenance of the soul
Wars recalled in verse, memories intended to calm, release the pain
Songs of poetry sing messages cascading from the heart
When gods, or monsters, or disease destroy the planet
The last words, lines forming an elegy, will drift from the debris
This poem is in need of a better title and was inspired by someone writing on Hello Poetry, whom I can't recall, that wondered if she would still be inspirited to write now that she was no longer heartbroken.
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