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elle 1d
The plane rumbles and this woman is having a panic attack
and I can think of nothing more than the word
Stop

stop stop stop stop stop

I need to go back in time,
years in time.
I want to get off the first plane
and the 9th.

I want her to stop trembling and screaming.

I wish I felt something other than apathy,
other than that I wished this plane would stop-
mid-air if it has to.
Just don’t bring me back to

where my home is lacking, where my loneliness eats me

where you are not
I made a deal with Satan
Because you showed me
That he was my only shot

I threw away who I was
And became your enemy
As I smile like your friend

I learned the game
And that I have a gift

I use it to play you
And steal from you

And I’ll continue to do so
With you as my teacher
Until I cough and glare at you
Through my last dying breath

I’m a villain.

I secretly extort and leach
Off of everything and everyone
That You have ever loved
Because that and you
Don’t mean anything to me

I want to deceive
And take advantage
Of you and your friends
So that I can take your money
Because I will not settle
For less than the ivory tower
That you sleep in.
I know you have your reasons-
ones I couldn't hope to understand-
but your apparent apathy creates between us a

distance

far greater than any ocean.
It's infuriating.
Whether it's the situation or me not getting my way
I can feel myself slipping
farther
from you and from myself.
Sometimes I feel as if I'm
drinking the blood of the innocent.
Taking their pleasures,
vicariously,
and hoarding them within my blackened heart.
Do I steal my happiness from those who truly deserve it?
I testify. Testified.
Everyone ,
Including me,
Believes truth will taste better salted.
Salted.
Yet apathy prevails.
Talia Sep 27
I wish you had died on that day
then maybe I'd only face grief
and not the betrayal of that double-edged sword you jabbed into my back.
you said that you also wanted to die on that day
then maybe you couldn't have to face the stress of killing me,
and the depressing aftermath of which you ensued on yourself.
Blank Sep 22
Poured concrete
on the silver lining shape
Sinking in its flesh
of what was once
a *** of red nectar flames
A molded misfit;
Immune from the
epidemic ethereal disease
Lilly frost Sep 17
Fury has fueled fire after fire
Now that rage has long since been retired
Swirling under the surface but now skin is thicker and walls our Higher
Rage bubbles into boiling tears
There's no place for anger
No place to speak
Feelings are forbidden
Listening's for the weak
What are you doing standing up you're supposed to be meek
Nothing to see folks
Nothing to see
Just little old me angry at would could be and what would have been
How foolish having feelings
Having opinions
I aspire to be a statue
Stone void of imperfections
Slow to chisel slow to break
I wouldn't mind a chip or flake
For what does one puny piece of my stony soul ruin for the show
Annie Sep 20
Proudly standing, rigid trees
   Swaying gently in the breeze
We watch the shadows fall
   Switches whip, the twigs are severed
   Yet the mighty wood persevers
Awaiting its next call
   Day becomes night; sunshine ends
   Branches soon begin to bend
Raw bark peels in strips.
   Autumn comes; the trees must fight
   For each burning speck of light
Drudged from unwilling lips.
   We watch them quiver in the breeze
   The axe-man comes to fell the trees
The thinnest shall go first.
   Year by year, the seasons change
   We ignore the passing strange
Stiff bodies, in one hearse.
   No one knows if it shall end
   The loss of foe, alike with friend
Means sunlight for the living.
   “What shall happen to them all?”
   Still we watch the shadows fall
A gift that keeps on giving.
Rowan Sep 19
Don’t expect me to say “I’m okay,”
because I started to go to therapy.

Don’t expect me to smile
because I stopped hurting myself.

Don’t expect me to heal
when I can’t go a day without the thought.

Don’t expect anything from me,
you’ll be greatly disappointed.

And don’t expect me to say thank you
when you stay,
I’m too selfish to say anything.

Or maybe I can’t talk, move my lips to form words,
haven’t you noticed?

And now that I’m here,
I can’t even cry without fear cradled next to the tears.
No, no crying for me. Not again.

Don’t expect me to leave my dorm,
When out there, I can’t hear their voices,
because somehow those who don’t know anything about me
make me the most comfortable.

Don’t expect me to say the truth “I’m empty and lost and emotionless and apathetic and so full of nothing, I don’t know how to break,”
because I go out from my dorm
or go to class or any of the clubs.

And expect me to say “I’m fine.”
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