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  Sep 2017 ryrosaur
josh wilbanks
Being suicidal doesn't mean i'm going to **** myself

Being suicidal is having this unexplicable ache while you're living

It's waiting for your life to end, and wishing you didn't have to carry on

Having this ache, an incapability to feel happy living, doesn't mean that I am going to **** myself -

It just means I wouldn't mind dying.
  Sep 2017 ryrosaur
Alysia Michelle
No one ever tells you  that
Even in the happiest place on earth
You can still feel blue
That there are things you have to do as a person
To thine ownself be true
These things that  will help you grow
Like taking vitamins
To strengthen your bones
But sometimes you have to take the vitamins
That you find disgusting
No one tells you that
there will always be growing pains
And you wont always have enough medicine
Or a mom close enough to give you the grape flavored medicine not the cherry kind
sometimes it just hurts
Sometimes you just have to let it hurt
life will give you more than you can stomach
But when you consume good things
You will produce good things
But the opposite is also true
Even being surrounded by people
Thousands of people
You can feel alone
Because nothing,
I mean nothing
Is ever quite like home
And home is where the heart is
But right now mines far away
Making the best out of what i have
But feeling  low today
Sometimes you just need to be
Surrounded by people you love
And being a thousand miles away
Is difficult when push
Comes to shove.
  Sep 2017 ryrosaur
Alysia Michelle
My words now
Seem only
Adequate
But I cannot seem to adequately
Put into words
What I want to say.
  Sep 2017 ryrosaur
ern kingham
There is only room for one in the place where I reside
The closet in which I hide
was only built for me.
But now, in this closet there are two,
and that's only because I love you.
A poem to my girlfriend, even though I haven't sent it to her yet. not sure if I ever will
  Sep 2017 ryrosaur
Kim Lang
When is it the right time
To open the closet door
To look in on a journey paused
To risk the truth and find
Boxes taped up with angry haste
Adventures stifled within four walls

When is the right time
To sit with the papers, the moments, the times
To make the decisions
To be brave in the face of pain and find
Cherished moments stuffed haphazardly away
Flashes of beauty smothered by a storm

When is the right time
To laugh, to cry, to hate, to mourn
To acknowledge the truth
To risk the unpredictable path that leads to
A heart ready, open for healing
And a closet - with room for someone else
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