BW 7d
Don't you dare
manipulate me
or I swear I will fuck you up so much
You will end up killing yourself

Would you want to see me, wrist slit in a tub?

I would not, but I would be indifferent.
How is it my fault? It only shows you
value death more than life.
Come on pick up the phone.
Stop being silly ok, I didn't want you to actually do that.
Look, stop being stupid, it's nothing.
Pick up. B?
Are you ok? I am sorry, I didn't actually mean it like that.
B? Come on, stop being a silly kitten.I love you.
Pick up the phone, please!!
B are you alright? Do you want me to come down? Please, talk.

They found her, they told me. Wrist slit in a tub.
Her lips were crimson, her hair like a black dahlia.
Her body bathing in blood,
Bright red as the girl I first met, who fell in love,
the same girl I pushed down
the cliff of death never to come back.
AJ Simmons Mar 12
Everywhere I go,
No matter the pull I tread low'
Low beneath the underpass and gutter
Filled with slime grime and clutter
Of mind
Of rats
And delinquents not men
Let loose in a remote controlled pen
Freer are pigs and caged little hens
We don't know we chase
An unquenchable thirst
And blindly can't see the fishing wire
That it's dangled from in front of our faces.
John D Feb 8
My life essence
Trapped inside of my soul
Surrounded by distant lands
Filled with emptiness and loneliness
My trapped soul wanders
Looking for a purpose
Inside of a desolate stricken world
I woke up one day,
the sun had gone away.
While the moon
was nowhere to be seen.

In the growing cold,
the ice was gaining ground.
While time was growing old.

soon there would be no-one
to remember what had been.

The lines in the distance,
join into one.
we're heading to the
vanishing point.
If we disappear;
maybe it would be
a better difference.

Awry this earth's become,
frayed by changing fiction.
Dreaming of what,
once never has been.

Sold as a vain token,
for an declining return.
Fortold by our history.

Soon there will be no-one,
to tell of what was seen.

The lines in the distance,
join into one.
we're heading to the
vanishing point.
If we disappear;
maybe it would be
a better difference.
An ardent following,
superseded by disdain
that comes like the aligned
sadism brought by you.
Feel like a failure?
Like the weapons in your brain
have finally run out of power and
that they were fabricated
from day one.
Feel like a failure?
Not yet?
You will never find a joy in
A brusque portrayal of success.
Because you have failed.
They will find out eventually.
They all will.
The trickster is not the manipulator.
You joke.
You are envious, envious of
others, how superficial!
Just like you want to be,
because you fail to elaborate
upon your own promises.
You surrender to the gift
that is moving on.
Just like anyone else!
How could someone like you fall so flat?
High functioning, or lack thereof.
You can fool the weak,
but so can any glimmer of hope.
Superimpose your lies
as you run out of time
and play the demi
in order to fornicate with
the incessant drive rather than
the polished joy that is success.
Move on.
You are a failure.
You are beginning to run out of options,
your only option is surely deceit.
Manipulators driven by the harrowing
sense that tomorrow will bring
inner motivation for another
night of fulfillment.
You, my friend,
are no different.
You resort to illusion because
you cannot create your own world.
You will die by the hands of  another.
Another just like you.
Weak and powerless in the eyes
of those who a greater
than your desire
being as great.
I patiently catastrophize
the boisterous morning that will follow.
A day, like today, mourning, in a tentative morning.
I knew they were there, but,
how much can they deny me sensation before they
clamor and destroy what is left inside?
An ego idealized by the being of passion.
Driven, to a harrowing morning.
Polish the idea that this is safe,
that this is meant to be.
Crumble into insanity at night.
Mourn the morning afterwards.
This is existence?
A mind incapable of compartmentalization.
Anon Dec 2017
i love to hear laughter
i love to see smiles
i love to help Those I love
get through Their trials.

i'll show Them the sunrise,
Show Them a new day
Just 'cause i can't enjoy it,
why can't They?

Inside i spiral,
Inside i scream,
But outside i smile
brightly and beam.

Darkness encroaches.
Voices - they cry.
But if it makes Them smile,
i'll continue to try.

i try to ignore it.
"just be happy" i command.
Why the smiles are forced
i can't understand.

i feel so lost,
i feel so alone,
i feel the steel cut closer,
closer to bone.

The deeper i cut,
The deeper i drift,
The memories, the nightmares
Almost seem to lift.

Yet those acts - they still play,
every night on repeat
To those painful memories
i get front row seats.

i tried once to tell Them,
tried crying for aid,
yet here i am once more,
alone and afraid.

So i choose to just hide it.
To put Their needs first,
They'll see my best,
to help Them at their worst.

They ask if i'm happy,
They ask where i stand.
i could try to explain,
But They won't understand.
Sarah Salako Nov 2017
If I was to sit here and tell you my pain we’d be here for hours,
Pain is inevitable,
For some endless,
For me a darkness and lingers in the back of my mind waiting for a moment to envelop me in a blanket so heavy I have no way out,
I have to wait.
For someone outside that darkness to just whisper my name so I can swim up and just breathe.

This darkness is wide,
Even as I cry out to this darkness it has no sympathy,
My pain is mean,
My struggle is its joy,
My hurt is relief,
My sorrow is a sweet aroma to the stretch of my happiness,
Yes, I smile. A lot in fact,
But is it real?
I’m the best actress you’ve ever seen,
My smile is laced with the pain; darkness; hurt and sorrow that you will never see so, please!

Allow me to grieve for the happiness I can’t feel. I forgot how it feels, it’s numb but pain...
You’ve all but won.
This poem is about darkness. Keep a look out for the light
DaSH the Hopeful Nov 2017
They say home is where the brain committed suicide* first
Hushed conversation overheard
Flushed worth down the drain
And as it spun
The dark corners never seemed so inviting
Enticing how the pain makes you notice yourself when no one else does
Reality is a setback that you've sat through and kept mum about
Contemplating the things that are all in your head more than things that actually are
You've already done it a thousand times
And accepted the indifference growing like vines that intertwine in your mind
Now your thumb is out and you're looking for a ride
Not any particular place, just "away"
Toward somewhere not quite like this

*You use a tied rope as a taxi cab
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