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Elizabeth Jan 2019
The scars on my skin,
They were all made by me.
They serve as a reminder of my storms
And the feelings I was trying to set free.

Look me in the eyes,
They are clouded.
Will you be able to see past the disguise?
Will you ever break the walls by which I’m surrounded?

Plastered smile and hysterical laugh,
Hide every single crack,
And keep the fury from emerging,
In me, a war is raging.

So don’t tell me how lovely I am,
It is merely a mask,
When you look deep within,
Then, your questions you may ask.
TD Jan 2019
Mom and Dad,
Siblings,
Family,
Love,
Safety and some place to go to,
Things most have.

Happiness is safety,
Like a place to go home to,
During a war there is no home,
No safety,
Not even love.


Sometimes this war is depression,
A long battle,
Difficult to overcome in its entirety,
Like every war,
Depression is something you can’t fight on your own,

Some things in the war remind you of what it was like,
What it was like before the war,
They give moments of clarity,
They show you what you’re fighting for.

These things can be simple as a smile,
A goodbye,
A compliment,
Or as important as,
A long meaningful talk,
A good hug.

When you receive these,
The battle is easier to fight for a moment,
So please give it to others,
Share the clarity,
Win a war.
nitelite Jan 2019
a last shot into unknown,
dive deep into the soul less ink,
only to impart your own,
perhaps to emerge victorious?

imbue the stale cruelty of the inanimate
with the vivid cruelty of the soul,
bleed unto the mocking desolute canvas,
drawing blood from mindy & body in whole.

a last shot with broken minds,
write words that are not your own
for crazed usbthe hand that the soul hides behind
a battle of thoughts, then all alone.

Was it really anything at all?
These things I write, I can't quite trust them.
Yet I can't trust what I don't write.
It's so easy to get lost
In the _ of  _
Late 2019!! Hopefully I will start writing more this year, I've had a couple written that I'm still editing. A little uncharacteristic, but I hope to do something uplifting after this just to push my limits.
Meg B Jan 2019
I have forgotten what
it feels like to be
loved.
It is so odd and
most definitely sad,
as I still know so
substantially what it
feels like to
love.
My existence is so
unrequited,
for even when you
again shared your
body with me,
even though two years
time had passed since
our last dance,
the wall you built remained intact.
I searched every surface
in hopes of finding a crack
in the stone that,
with some effort,
could finally help me to
topple the blockade.
But your love,
or what I have (probably pathetically)
convinced myself
exists on the other side,
it is as well-protected and
well-hidden as ever.
So I soldier on,
fighting my losing battle,
feeling love for you,
the love from which
I am doomed to be destroyed,
shot down, blood staining the
ground
beneath me,
no shield of your love
with which my body,
my heart,
could remain intact.
Fervent warriors come upon a field,
A trickle of men storming the grassy abyss,
prepared with shields upon their hearts
and weapons ready at the finger tips.
Their hearts oscillating to the war cries
and to the sounding drummer's march.
A prevalent threat casting shadows overhead;
Awaiting the freedom bell and the open air,
the men charge with their pens cocked
and their ink basins filled to the brim.
Casey Jan 2019
The first snow has fallen; oh how it sparkles in the sun!

All she wants to do is run around and have fun.

Yet, there is work to be done.

This battle she's fighting seems won.

But, no one can tell

from fear and pain, she runs.
idk man I honestly don't remember why I wrote this one.
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