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you hold back your tears,
honestly, you've been holding them for years.
But you don't have to do that with me,
I promise I will listen, I will see
We will go through the problems,
and figure out answers to solve them.
Even if you feel the world getting bipolar,
you will always have my shoulder.

But you can't cry because you have to be a 'man',
but that is one thing I will never understand.
Who the hell said that crying makes you weak,
just because you aren't afraid to feel, you are a freak?
I love you and I will try to make you understand,
I command these falsehoods to unhand the man

who makes me smile.
and then the world was
silenced
all except her broken butterfly wing heartbeat
She dove into the
oblivion of the deep blue
sea.
this is a poem written in a boring class
fifteen and blind to
the cruelty of the world
but I am not her
broken glass bottles
cutting at my feet and hands
killing my desire
i am in love with
the feeling of nothingness
alone with myself
i am worth something
I just don't know what it is
could you help me, please?
giving up on poetry is like
giving up on air
except more painful

holding on to my past is like
my own crown of thorns
that I wear without complaint

having a depressive episode is like
drowning in a black lake of me
but I hate the person I am

being myself is like
the disappointment you feel as a child
when you realize you can't be anything you want.
I am a sword of glass,
deadly, but ready to shatter at any moment.
You are an iron hammer,
strong, and slowly breaking me apart.
i haven't shattered yet
one day your heart will come home
one day you won't be forever alone
one day the stars will have their way
and the skies will start singing
for the future is worth seeing
I hope this gives you...well, hope.
i wish to feel your lips on
mine
i want to feel our bodies
intertwine
i need to feel the warmth of your
skin
as golden rays of sunshine pour
in
you make each touch feel like a
sin
but even the angels can't ignore this
passion
thinking of you </3
turbulent eyes and worn hands
faded tattoos from long-forgotten
drunken nights
marks of needle prinks
and a southern slurred speech
- you were kind to me
11:34 PM
hey, how are you?
10:27 AM
I've just been wondering how you
are doing, that's all.
12:09 AM
I'm sorry, okay? it didn't mean
anything I promise. I still want
you.                        
                                                                ­  2:39 AM
                                                              ­     Just like you promised to love
                                                                ­   me?
                                                             ­     2:39 AM
                                                              ­     Just like you promised they
                                                                ­   were just a friend?
                                                         ­         2:39 AM
                                                              ­      Am I something you get to pick
                                                                ­    up and throw back down
                                                                ­    when you are done with me?
                                                             ­                                           *seen
just a small piece of a pain-filled monologue

— The End —