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May 2018 · 778
elizabeth May 2018
my skin is cracked
my stomach an empty sea
my mouth is dry
so sand pours out
my hands are fragile
my eyes tired of searching
my lungs have collapsed
from breathing in
the deadly scorching air
in this desert dry of love

the things we do to keep
ourselves alive and living well
are things i do not forté in
and cannot truly grasp
why eat when i taste nothing
but clay and iron and death
why drink when the water is
barren on my tongue
nothing is as it should be
in this desert dry of love

exhausted, i shrivel away
no rain of thoughts to fuel
on the hot and burning days
the downpour never comes
so nothing grows on the terrain
there is only a sandstorm
it curls around
in this desert dry of love

this desert
dry dry desert
heats me to the core
and makes me into nothing
i am but a mound of ugly
common clay once more
easily shattered
in this desert dry of love
april 24, 2018
May 2018 · 698
elizabeth May 2018
and candy lies
that’s what your
silver tongue fed me
gobbling it up
i became fat,
greedy, and dependent
on your honeyed deceit
believing in that
sweet, kind voice
i was stuck in
your trap of golden tar
unknowingly, i was dying
trying to cut
my way out of
your sticky grasp

now, i’m finally free
and i’ll never let
myself taste that
false manna again
may 1, 2018
May 2018 · 249
as i have become
elizabeth May 2018
rocks get worn
clothes become tired
people do as well
the skies go dark
the oceans toss and turn
in the night
just as i do
in my nightmare-filled slumber
******* is thrown away
fires die out
just as the burning passion
of love that others promise
flowers wilt with time
decomposed and shriveled
just as i have become
may 5, 2018
May 2018 · 219
don't lean on me
elizabeth May 2018
please don’t lean on me
i’ll crumble beneath you
and no one is willing to
help pick me up again
so please don’t lean on me
because i can't afford
to fall down again
may 5, 2018
May 2018 · 144
elizabeth May 2018
blood running down
my unshaven legs
disgusting and hairy
deserving of
gashes and scars and pain
deserving of hatred
deserving of starvation
those numbers 115
dont just magically
appear on the scale
my attempt at cutting
away the fat,
ugliness failed
now im left
watching the wine
pour out of my skin
down the drain
may 5, 2018
Feb 2018 · 557
elizabeth Feb 2018
walls built up high
they're supposed to protect
against the ocean of my mind
i let you in
let you see my thoughts
and you overwhelmed me
the waves started crashing
i started slipping under
February 14, 2018.
Dec 2017 · 379
elizabeth Dec 2017
sometimes my pain
is yelling at my family
not even remembering why
sometimes my anger
is crying in my room alone
being careful not to make a sound
sometimes my sadness
is standing in the rain
wishing it would wash me away
sometimes my depression
is lying in bed and wanting to get up
but not being able to lift the chains
sometimes my breath
is stolen from my lungs
feeling all of this at once
sometimes my mind
is numb and empty
feeling nothing at all
sometimes im just... there
not feeling anything
but not feeling nothing
and sometimes in those moments
i wish i was dead.
August 3, 2017.
elizabeth Dec 2017
words dance across
the pages of that
worn, old paper

my eyes dart
back and forth
like small fish
hoping to find
some morsel of nourishment

but all i have found
is bitter hate and despise-
things that are inedible

but i gobble them up-
desperate for anything
your hand provides

they say do not bite
the hand that feeds you

but what if that is the
same hand that
stabs and bruises your heart?
what then, little fish?

do you continue to
**** yourself by consuming
their poisoned love?

or do you simply choose
to live and swim away?
August 3, 2017.
Dec 2017 · 164
If I'm So Pretty
elizabeth Dec 2017
Butterflies have wings...
So do other lovely things...
Where are mine then, God?
August 3, 2017.
Dec 2017 · 303
thoughtless wonder
elizabeth Dec 2017
dreams crushed
hopes shattered
here i sit in my
thoughtless wonder

joy diminished
sadness increased
here i walk in my
thoughtless wonder

heart spoiled
brain rotted
here i tie my
thoughtless wonder

peace disturbed
anguish expanded
here i hang my
thoughtless wonder

pain interrupted
madness depleted
here i die in my
thoughtless wonder.
December 3, 2017.
Oct 2017 · 137
welcome to my blog
elizabeth Oct 2017
you should check my blog out
Oct 2017 · 170
The Words Are Stuck
elizabeth Oct 2017
The words are stuck
In this throat of mine.
I try to unleash them,
But I don't know why I bother trying.
What's the point?
I see no point to any of it
And still the words are stuck.
They swim in my head,
Like tiny, little fishes.
I'm a terrible fisherman;
I should mention that now.
"Explain yourself!" The people say,
And I try.
I try very hard, but the little word-fishes
Seem to always evade my hook.
I simply stand there, in a daze,
Mouth wide-open like a grouper.
Wishing that I could find the right words.
But still, the words are stuck.
The people become angry,
Because they are hungry for my words.
But I'm an awful fisherman,
So they shouldn't rely on me.
So I stand there, gaping.
Opening and closing my mouth again,
While the waves of my mind are crashing
On the walls of my self-control.
I fight hard, trying to sail through
These hazardous oceans.
But it is to no avail.
I'll end up alone again,
Gasping and choking for air as
The waves drown me.
And even still,
The words are stuck.
June 4, 2017.
Jun 2017 · 235
The Liar (senryu)
elizabeth Jun 2017
Liar, Liar, pants-
Pants? Pants? It's more like: Liar,
Liar, soul on fire.
June 13, 2017.
Jun 2017 · 424
elizabeth Jun 2017
"Once upon a time, I knew you.
I knew your quirks and comebacks,
Your fears and failures.
I knew when you were sad before you did
And how to cheer you up (cheesy jokes and vanilla ice cream).
I knew which Dum-Dum flavor was your favorite,
And the ritual you'd perform before a game.
I knew how you acted just before you broke up
With yet another girlfriend that you deemed wasn't The One.
But now... I hardly know you at all.
I suppose we've become like strangers.
Wandering and tip-toeing around each other,
Not sure how to approach and say hello correctly.
But of course, the most obvious question to finally ask
Would be the one that I am terrified of.
The one that's kept me awake at night as I've imagined
Meeting you again.
'How have you been over the years?'
A simple question. But a hard one.
Because I'm terrified of how happy you will tell me you are
Without me."
       *-an excerpt from a book I will never write.
June 13, 2017.
May 2017 · 591
elizabeth May 2017
I have a plan.
A deep, dark plan.
Maybe they'll get there
In time to stop it,
Maybe they won't.
But I still have my plan.
And I'll stick to it.
May 14, 2017.
elizabeth Apr 2017
"I woke up."
   And wished I was dead.
"I walked through the house."
   Like a zombie.
"I kissed and hugged my mother."
   And my body was in so much pain.
"I ate my breakfast."
   And felt sick to my stomach.
"I grabbed my clothes and got dressed."
   But I stared at my scars and cuts first.
"I started my schoolwork."
   And wished I could disappear.
"I turned in assignments."
   But I already knew what my grades would be.
"I ate lunch; I had a sandwich."
   I didn't want to eat. Why do they make me?
"I went back and did more school."
   And wished I wasn't alive; did I mention that already?
"I did my chores."
   And thought of all the ways I could leave.
"I ate dinner."
   Because they always make me eat.
"I did more school until ten."
   Then collapsed into bed, not wanting to exist.
"I laid in my bed wide awake, thinking, until about two a.m."
   I didn't want to sleep 'cause I don't like nightmares.
"I thought about life, conversations, etc."
   Ways I could off myself, why I hate myself, etc.
"I finally fell asleep around two-fifteen."
   The nightmares get worse and worse.
   Please don't make me do it again.
   I don't want to live another day.
   Please don't make me live life.
"Then the day started again when I woke up at about five."
April 19, 2017.
Apr 2017 · 353
Colors And You
elizabeth Apr 2017
My anger is a deep burgundy;
My joy is a bright yellow.
My loneliness is a thunderstorm-grey;
My sadness is a turmoil of oceanic hues.
My hope is of lilac iridescence;
My despair is the darkest blue.
My love is a sweet pastel rainbow.
But my happiness and bliss?
It's the color of you.
April 19, 2017.
Apr 2017 · 306
Breaking Trust
elizabeth Apr 2017
I broke their trust again.
But they were not angry this time, no.
This time, they were simply disappointed.
Which is much worse.
April 19, 2017.
I apologize for not being on. I've been trying to get my grades up and I've honestly just not had the desire to write much.
Mar 2017 · 678
The Wasteland
elizabeth Mar 2017
No thing grows,
No bird flies.
Flowers- they shrivel;
Die in my mind.

Dark as night,
Quiet like fear.
Terrible as monsters;
All pain resides here.

Warmth isn't found,
Light is scarce.
Silence stabs ears
Like a dagger's pierce.

The toxic air,
The deadly sand.
You haven't guessed?
**I am the wasteland.
March 25, 2017.
Rhyme scheme: second and last line end rhyme. Stanza one and three: near-rhyme. Stanza two and four: rhyme.
elizabeth Mar 2017
My paper crown has burned.
My wings have been ripped away.
My faerie godmothers are not real,
Neither is the court of Fae.
So while I sit and wait
For a darling prince to come,
I may as well remember
That there isn't going to be one.
March 21, 2017.
Mar 2017 · 700
elizabeth Mar 2017
Heart beats and paper wings,
Tattered clothes and souls that sing.
Beauty that relies on grace,
Salty tears that run down the face.
Hopes that give a crown and throne,
Fears that wittle down to the bone.
Angels protecting with all their might,
Demons killing out of spite.
Making sure another dies,
She won't live to be a butterfly.
March 21, 2017.
I'm not sure what exactly this is, other than a culmination of my mind.
Mar 2017 · 671
Suicide Seas (short poem)
elizabeth Mar 2017
Sinking to the bottom,
An anchor tied around my ankle,
I find rest while drowning
In the Suicide Seas.
March 21, 2017.
Mar 2017 · 345
elizabeth Mar 2017
Once a burning flame,
I am now only a single,
Dying coal in the dark
Parts of my mind.
March 21, 2017.
Mar 2017 · 523
elizabeth Mar 2017
Beaches are lots of fun,
Until you realize you cannot
Go because your body,
Mind, and soul have been
Cut a million times.
Salt water burns people like me.
March 19, 2017.
I ****** up my body, mind, and emotional state again, and have to figure out a way to get out of going to the beach... I'll probably blame it on school
Mar 2017 · 689
elizabeth Mar 2017
My eyes open,
The sun filters in.
For a moment,
Just a moment,
I am warm;
I am at peace.
I am happy.
And then the day
Starts, and I wish
With all my heart
And soul that
I hadn't awoken
From my sleep.
March 14, 2017.
Mar 2017 · 938
Especially Me
elizabeth Mar 2017
The fog in my mind
Thickens with each
Thought that runs through.
The darkness seems so
Endless; like the abyss
Of the ocean was shoved
Inside my head and remained
There for the rest of my days.
It is hard to see light
Ahead of me now.
It is hard to see through
The terribly dense fog.
It is even hard to see that
Anything matters.
**Especially me.
March 7, 2017.
elizabeth Mar 2017
Like many things in life,
Problems occur.
Problems which we are
Meant to learn from.

Like many things in life,
Difficulties arise.
Difficulties that we can
All overcome together.

For better or for worse
the latter is more common,
for worse happens way too often,
the problems we face don't fade.

We live in this prison called life
difficulties arise as we slowly walk
to our demise,we fill our minds
that there are ways we can escape.

The hardships of life
Are only a small part of the
Vivid painting that is life.
We are the complete image.

Though we may have tears,
Rips, piercings, and smudges,
We are still full of wonder and
Our minds are full of light.

**We embrace the order
we border on uniformity
awfully we are digging ourselves
in shelves of debt and depression.

Life is a vivid painting,
staining the realisation that death,
that the last breath taken
and the needless pain is imminent.
March 5, 2017.
This is a collab I did with Gregory Dun Aer. The regular font is the optimist, the bolded is the pessimist. Gregory wrote the pessimistic side, I wrote the other.
Mar 2017 · 562
My Anger Comes
elizabeth Mar 2017
My anger comes
In the form of tears.
I control myself
But the tremors take over.

My anger comes
In the form of silence.
I control myself
But my thoughts run wild.

My anger comes
In the form of weakness.
I control myself
But they don't know that.

My anger comes
In the form of control.
Because I know
The havoc I could wreak.
March 2, 2017.
Lately I've just been very angry. I think it's mostly stress but I believe it's also built-up resentment against those around me.
Mar 2017 · 431
Whispered (short poem)
elizabeth Mar 2017
No one needs to know..."
The razor whispered
To her skin as
It violated her.
March 1, 2017.
Mar 2017 · 894
elizabeth Mar 2017
The tool of liars and cheats.
The maker of trust issues.
March 1, 2017.
Mar 2017 · 1.3k
My Story.
elizabeth Mar 2017
Tragedy struck
At just age 13.
My innocence-
Murdered in the rain.
Not the physical rain,
But the rain of my tears.
My story is different,
But just as terrible.
He stole the beauty
Of my soul and heart...
Leaving me dark and alone.
He ripped my confidence
Away with a single tear.
"I love you."
The lie he told
Has made me unable
To be loved.
"You're so beautiful..."
Another lie he told
Has made me unable
To believe this truth.
He ruined my beautiful,
White wings from God.
He replaced them with
Skeletal outlines of what
Once was.
My lovely face has been
Scarred by the streaming
Tears down my face.
Clawing at my skin,
I try to wash away the guilt.
"But the guilt is not yours."
They say.
"It isn't your fault."
"It isn't your fault
That he is an evil man.
It isn't your fault
That he targeted you.
It isn't your fault
That he took advantage
Of a little, naive girl.
It isn't your fault.
It isn't your fault.
It isn't your fault.
*It is not your fault, Elizabeth."
March 1, 2017.
My story is a different one, and it was very difficult to write this piece as it brought back a lot of terrible  memories. But it's only different in that, I didn't actually meet up with what turned out to be a 50 year old man. Most girls end up meeting them and having terrible things happen to them. And I am so sorry for that. I'm sorry someone stole your innocence, beautiful girls.
My story is this:
I was targeted online by a ******* at 13 years old. He told me all kinds of lies and I agreed to be his "girlfriend". He was sweet at first, saying he was 18 and he couldn't wait to see me, etc. But they all start out sweet. He began talking explicitly to me, and I complied and said the same things in the messages. A decision I regret to this day. My parents found out I was speaking to someone online, and the police were called. Three years later, after trials and fighting with him and his lawyers, he is finally in prison. But he has left me with scars and demons that haunt me every day.
My depression, anxiety, and minor PTSD have stemmed from this situation. And my mental issues may be worse than that.
I was inspired to write this out because of John Baverstock's poem "Jamie's Story". So thank you for that.
I hope you will not judge me for this.
Mar 2017 · 475
You've Made Me Feel
elizabeth Mar 2017
You've made me feel
Alive again.
After so many years of
Being dead.

You've made me feel
Safe again.
After so many years of
Crippling fear.

You've made me feel
Happy again.
After so many years of
Excruciating pain.

You've made me feel
Loved again.
After so many years of
Searing hate.

You've made me feel
Something*  again.
After so many years of
Lonely nothingness.

*You've made me feel
Alive again.
After so many years of
Being dead.
February 28, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 513
Bare Our Souls
elizabeth Feb 2017
I want to strip you bare,
Expose your core,
And watch our souls meld together.
February 26, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 1.2k
You Are My Home.
elizabeth Feb 2017

A single word can fill you
With a thousand feelings
And memories.
Some are warm, happy,
Fuzzy feelings that you enjoy;
Others... not so much.
Yelling, pain, insults;
Dysfunction, blame, guilt.
But "family" is not always
The same thing as *
Sometimes home is a person,
Who makes you feel loved.
They make you feel wanted
And secure in their embrace.
They give you those happy, fuzzy
Feelings and light thoughts
On your dark days.
And you, my friend...
You are home to me.
February 25, 2017.
Inspired by some of friends that have helped me through my hardest times. Thank you Mer and Will. If you ever see this, know that I love you both so much.
elizabeth Feb 2017
I'm young.
I'm scarred.
I'm traumatized.
So why do I want *that?
February 25, 2017.
I'm a victim. I'm scarred. I can't even have other people mention it (sleeping with someone, being intimate in any way, etc.) without having painful flashbacks and being ashamed. So why, in all of the things that I could have the desire for, do I have the desire for that? I mean, I know why. But I shouldn't feel this way. It shouldn't be happening. I'm so disappointed with myself and I'm so ashamed.
elizabeth Feb 2017
My type of poetry
Is not meant to bring
Joy, happiness, and warm feelings.
It is meant to cause
The hardest of hearts to feel,
The driest of eyes to cry,
And the toughest of men to feel weak.
It is not meant to be read aloud;
It is meant to be read while
You are alone at night, crying
Because you are tired.
It is meant to let you know
That someone else out here
Feels your pain and knows what it's like.
It is meant to break you down
And help you build yourself
Up again because you are strong.
You will make it through this.
You'll make it through
Because deep down,
You know you aren't searching
For poems about depression
Late at night because you want
Inspiration to **** or hurt yourself.
You want to know someone else
Out there in this cruel
******* world understands.
You want to know someone cares,
And that someone else feels the pain.
You want to know it gets better,
That there is in fact a light
At the end of the tunnel.
And let me tell you,
I struggle too.
Most days, I can't see that light,
That faint residue of hope.
But that's okay.
Because it's the journey that counts.
And you and I
Are on this journey together.
February 24, 2017.
Everyone struggles. Everyone goes through the pain of life. Some of us have it worse off than others, and that's okay. Because we all have the same strength. It's not about being weak or not, it's about having the ***** to get back up and try your hardest to make it a better day. And I know you can do it. It's been hard for me the past few years, what with battling my depression and also dealing with some minor PTSD, panic attacks, and the like. But I'm still here. I have bad days, and worse days, just like everyone else- but I'm still here. And that's what counts.
It will get better, I know it will. Just believe in yourself, even when no one else does. Because one day, you will be able to stand up tall and say "I did it. I made it. I've won."
Stay strong, everyone.
Much Love,
elizabeth Feb 2017
Her mind is a storm,
Her heart is the ocean.
But he is the firm land
In which she plants her feet.
February 24, 2017.
elizabeth Feb 2017
If a poet falls in love with you,
Don't take it for granted;
*They don't write poetry
For just anyone, you know.
February 24, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 298
elizabeth Feb 2017
Don't mistake my smile for happiness
Or my laughter for joy;
Deep down, my soul is
Tearing itself in two.
February 24, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 258
Silence (10w)
elizabeth Feb 2017
Sometimes silence is the
Most dangerous tool of them all
February 24, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 347
elizabeth Feb 2017
Gasping for air,
Trying to grab ahold
Of something.

Crying out in pain,
Trying to call out
To anybody.

Screaming at the world,
Trying to make them
Hear me.

Going silent once more,
No once cares enough
To listen.
February 24, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 383
Late Night Television
elizabeth Feb 2017
My eyesight is fuzzy
My thoughts are static;
Tonight's show is on:
Depression and Madness.
February 24, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 241
Fish: Part Two (12w)
elizabeth Feb 2017
Guess you don't have room
In your ocean for little old me.
February 23, 2017.
I have room for you, but you're too busy for little me I guess. The first part I said "pond", but my friend has more friends and a busier life, so I decided to use something bigger to represent that part of him.
Feb 2017 · 302
Fish (12w)
elizabeth Feb 2017
There's always room in my pond
For a little fish like you.
February 22, 2017.
To my dear friend, S. I'll always have room for you in my heart, no matter what.
elizabeth Feb 2017
Oh, the darkness overwhelms
Every minute I'm sinking deeper
It's hard to see the light
When your thoughts are black as night

But then I see your face
An' the shadows dissipate
An' I'm not so alone
You're the one I've been waiting for

Now you've opened up the door
To my sad and scarred soul
An' I'm so thankful
You're the one I've been waiting for
February 21, 2017.
Thinking about turning this into a song. What do you think?
Feb 2017 · 252
Reminders (10w)
elizabeth Feb 2017
Reminders are everywhere;
In messages,
And especially my mind.
February 21, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 960
The Trauma
elizabeth Feb 2017
The anger screams at
My mind.
The pain rips apart
My soul.
The shame hides
My face.
The sadness climbs down
My cheeks.
The trauma reminds me
Every day.
February 21, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 234
Panic Attack (10w)
elizabeth Feb 2017
My body shakes;
I can't breathe.
I'm drowning once again...
February 20, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 379
In Love With You
elizabeth Feb 2017
The dark, velvet sky envelopes
Us as we lay underneath a sea of stars.
We lay there, quiet as we memorize
Each other's features and souls.
Your eyes are the fire that
Keeps me warm through the night,
Your arms are the home I long for.
Your body wraps around mine
And your heartbeat slows.
Peacefully you drift away
And I fall deeper in love with you.
February 20, 2017.
Feb 2017 · 264
When I'm With You
elizabeth Feb 2017
The trauma in my mind,
The pain in my heart,
The sadness in my soul...
None of it will ever amount
To the feeling I get
When I'm with you.
February 20, 2017.
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