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KNS
KNS
22/Cisgender Female/Budapest   
14/M/Aurangabad   

Poems

I was 15,
And you were 16.
And we met through a computer screen.
And we instantly connected.
And we talked non-stop.
And we became best friends.
And we shared our deepest secrets with one another,
not caring that we were two complete strangers.
That never really mattered.
We were just troubled kids,
longing for someone to talk to.
Someone who felt the things we did.
Someone who wouldn't judge us.
Someone who might possibly understand.
We found that in each other.
You were my solace.
And I loved you.

I told you about how my family was no longer a family.
And you told me about how you didn't know if you could handle much more.
And I was worried.
And you occasionally disappeared for days on end.
And I became frantic.
And you would tell me you were in the hospital.
Those ****** pills again.
And I begged you to stop,
To try and get better.
Because you were my solace.
And I loved you.

I was 16,
and you were 17.
And you had a girlfriend.
And she didnt like me.
Or maybe she just didnt like what we had.
So she made you choose.
And it broke my heart to see you choose her.
Because you were my solace.
And I loved you.

Six months later.
Six devastatingly long months later.
I heard from you again.
And I didn't know how to feel.
So I cried.
Tears of anger, sadness, regret.
But mostly joy.
Because you were back.
You were finally back.
And you were my solace.
And I loved you.

I was 17,
And you were 18.
And we met face to face.
After two long years, it finally happened.
And it was the best night of my life.
And I was so sad to see you leave.
But you had to return to your broken home.
And things got worse for you.
And old habits picked back up.
And your depression consumed you.
And it ate me alive to see you that way.
Because you were my solace.
And I loved you.

I am 18,
And you should be 19.
But you never got to see that day.
Because old habits die hard.
And you finally succeeded.
And my heart feels like it's been ripped out of my chest.
But the rest of my body is numb.
And my mind is darker than ever.
Because now I have no one to share my secrets with.
No one to listen.
Because you are gone.
And you were my solace.
And I love you.


*~kns
Honestly, the ending of this poem isn't true. The boy did not die. But it seems as if he has because he completely disconnected himself from my life. It hurt less to just lie.
(Read from the bottom up)
~kns


At the bottom.
Old news.
Dead.
Nothing but deflated.
Now I’m no one.
the sneering planes.
the disdainful clouds,
the sarcastic stars,
The mocking planets
Past the laughing heavens.
I’m falling now.
POP.
It backfires.
Everything.
Every ***** trick.
Every lie.
I use everything I have to get up there.
I struggle.
Higher.
Higher.
Higher.
I need to go
Yet, I’m not satisfied.
The imperfect heavens.
The shoddy planets.
The second-rate stars.
The mediocre clouds.
Beyond the substandard planes.
I’m at the top.
To dwell in the shining heavens.
To greet the egotistical planets.
To outshine the fading stars.
to test the pressure of the atmosphere.
my greedy desire,
I must fulfill my need,
Higher than any cloud has ever reached.
height.
To float higher than
height.
in a competition of
To beat each plane
than to go higher.
Nothing else matters
Higher.
Higher.
Higher.
I’m floating now.
Freedom.
I grab the chance to get out.
releases its grip.
It gets distracted and
some cruel being.
Chained to the ground by the claws of
At the bottom.
(start here)
Lately I've been getting
really bad headaches
and I can't seem to figure out why
because this has never before been
a problem.
I try to go about my day and be happy,
but the second i do,
migraine.
They're bad, too.
My head literally feels like it's going to
implode,
leaving me to be a headless ghost
falling to my knees
and crumpling to the ground
in a pathetic heap,
never even knowing what happened.
I don't know whats going on,
but I feel like these headaches
might just mean something.
Maybe its too much stress
or too much pressure.
Maybe I just cant deal with
the weight of the world
for too long.
Maybe thats the problem.
I simply can't handle life.
These migraines are warning signs
that my breaking point is near
and I need to just break myself away
from society,
for at least a couple moments
just to take a breather
and massage my temples
and calm down
and possibly even cry
because crying really does help sometimes
and tell myself that its going to be alright
and that I can handle this
and I can handle life.

These migraines really will be the death of me.


*~kns
I apologize for the style of this. It's not exactly a poem, but then again not much of anything I write lately is.