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Sometimes
when I'm lying awake at night
on an air mattress of a pull out couch
not sleeping because of the weight
of why i'm here in the first place.
I cry.

the tears stream directly onto the pillow
pulling off old remnants of eyeliner
and mascara
Dirtying the pillow

I cry because
I am alone

alone

alone fearing the darkness
what it brings
and if it will find me
the darkness
I spent so much of my life in...

The darkness I fought so hard
                                                       To get away from...

And I'm still fighting
Jordan Rowan Nov 2015
Send my dreams to the paper press
I've got too much to confess
This whole mind is a mess
And it's mine
It's all I could find
As I was spending too much time
Screaming and crying

**** my brothers in the Middle East
Let their souls be released
As the mongrel dogs have a peaceful feast
On our blood
Down in the mud
When it's someone you don't love
You don't even shrug

Break my bones over color pride
Don't you see what I have inside?
For my thoughts, I must die
Or else I'm a joke
Lost within the smoke
If I'm not rich then I must be broke
A dying man unknown

Make the streets a place of peace
Instead of hate and bombing grease
Power only makes us weak
To ourselves
To you and myself
Take a long look at yourself
And you can tell

The morning comes and someone's gone
Sent away to a funeral song
They lost their life being young
And still bright
Now they only see the night
As their mother tries to sleep at night
Without life

I'm dead and gone someday soon
But still I love each sun and moon
As they pass over my room
I kneel down
I start to look around
I start to love everything I've found
And I'm proud
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
It is almost gone, the fight to sustain, to go that extra mile.
I cannot go down that road again without the promise of change.

Hope is nearly extinguished;
a flame snuffed out by years of beurocracy and neglect.

Groping through the darkness that has enveloped us
as we struggle through days without end.

The much dreaded evil has crept under doors and into our ears;
voices of torment and faded support.

Fighting the good fight was not meant for this.
It was the promise of something more.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
LatteQueen  Mar 2016
Colosseum
LatteQueen Mar 2016
I'm tired of this death match
fighting for my place
amongst the scattered remains
of a
thousand
broken hearts

This is not Sparta
I am no gladiator
and            you            
are
no
prize
A poet on the run,
he's escaping his own head.
This ******, broken son,
stands to where he's fled.
Quiet; maybe it's best,
that a pen's his only friend.
They're pounding on his chest,
yet only his hand ascends.
So many words wasted,
that he should've said.
"All of y'all are faceless,
to me you're just the dead,"
Because somewhere along the journey,
his humanity faded too.
They laughed and called him 'worthy,'
as his pupils changed their hue.
"Dead, you're all dead!
Can y'all truly not see?
Take your souls, and leave my bed,
before I forget who I used to be"
-
This poem is about fighting mental illness.
All feedback is welcome and appreciated.
Carter Ginter Jan 2015
I miss you every day, as I pretend you never existed
It's the only way I feel ok, but my mind is twisted
I love you, I always will
I just hope feeling alright doesn't always rely on these pills.

I'm not ready to move on, my unconscious clearly shows me that
I'm afraid to go to sleep because I know you'll be there
and when I wake up, I just stare
blankly into the light of my clock, trying not to feel
disappointed in the fact that you'll never be here.

All night, I run from sleep to avoid those dreams I hate
but in the morning I scratch at the door of unconsciousness
begging it to let me back in,
because those dreams are my only escape.
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