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You never sleep
Always awake
Solving the problems
Grasping to stay
You punch the numbers
You whisper the rhymes
You write it all down
A couple million times
The hardest equation
That you've ever seen
You're wracking your brain
Spiraling it seems
The great mathematician
At work in the flesh
A logical man
Working towards no rest
He's almost got it
The answers right there
Your heart such a puzzle
To him- almost unfair
But love isn't a problem to be solved, is it?
the unnatural
evil intent
evil deeds
all over this world
all combined
can never defeat love
the will and the willing
choice and the choosing
each time the good

strengthens the will and the willing
choice and the choosing
the good.
feeble fragile creature
victim of users guile
happening all the time
I don't like most of the people here
I honestly only come for you dear
It's loud and it's quiet
But with noises in between
I gave up on the diet
I know I'd never make prom queen
I can't fit in my dresses
There are brown streaks in gold tresses
I cant wear any makeup for the acne
Because it seems to attack me
I forgot my headphones
no music for me
I can't believe I was so dumb to forget them
I hate doing school without music
Paint me a broken heart

Torn straight from a loving chest

Mourning a broken bond

As happiness is set to rest

Paint me a broken heart

With the reds of fallen blood

Cried from the eyes of the longing

As their lovers walked away

Paint me a broken heart

Made from the ashes of infatuation

A child torn from a mother's arms

The cruel decision of a dark court

A grave without a corpse

Paint me a broken heart

Til there is no one left to yearn

Til another love is born

Til the next heart is broken

Please paint me a broken heart
I am not a typical cutter, you see I don't harm just to feel hurt or to make lines to have others feel bad for me
I cut as a necessity, a need, a must, I cut as if my body, my life even, depends on it.
if I do not, I will forget, and the words will pour from my brain to my mouth to another's heart.
I cut, dear reader, but not just lines,
I cut words, sentences, dates and times.
all over my body, all the skin I can reach
biting a wet rag to muffle my screech.
I'm yelling and crying but not with my voice.
it might be my body, but it is not a choice
I cut to remember, to speak, to be heard
that's why my first time cutting
I carved out a word.
There is a place in my head, where no one wants to go,
a place where trees have lost their leaves, the ground filled with snow.
The place is deep inside my head, and my friends don't want to know,
what goes on inside my head, in the place that's filled with snow.

The sun doesn't shine there, and there is little light,
mangled beasts and rueful sights.
pained humans, and unfortunate woes
deep in my head where nobody goes.

The place in my head, with blood in the snow.

The place in my head is full of the obscene,
things that nobody on the outside sees
Things I have hidden for quite a while,
with a quickly placed laugh and an over eager smile.

deep in the place,
that nobody knows,
in the back of my head,
in the place filled with snow,
where the trees have no leaves,

where nobody goes.
I never liked shaving,

a blade in my hand,

scraping across body hair

that never asked to be gone.

They called it *****,

so I was *****.

I carved at my skin,

slicing away

the girl they wanted me to be.

The girl I was told to become.

Now my armpits are hairy,

the razor’s long dead,

rotting in its plastic grave.

And me?

I don’t care anymore.
I think this feels more like a statement than a poem. I just don’t know what I am stating.
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