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Brooke Benway Nov 2016
i always feel this constant need to be relevant,
to have people noticing me
or talking about me,
i want to be on everyone's mind
and, when i'm not, i feel like
i'm going to fall off
the face of the earth
with no one to pick me up
when i'm broken and bruised,
no one to care
because i'm not relevant enough
to be known,

it's this sinking feeling in my stomach
that makes me feel like i'm not good enough,
that people don't actually like me,
so i fall into these moods
where i feel as if i annoy everyone
and i know i shouldn't be clingy,
and i hate myself for it every second,

but i can't help that i feel so alone in this world
that i need the attention of others,
to feel alive again,
to see color in my own black and white world
Eloi Sep 2016
This debilitating cynicism leaves me throwing fists,
blindly, unkindly I deliberately hide so that you cant find me.

Unmentionable, the seeking of attention that we require,
and I impede my own desires with a silent fear of fire.

Hold me higher than your loved ones,
mask my bad intentions.
I wish I was as pure as my lustless suggestions.

You try to fall, I’ll hold you back.
I surround  myself with your artifacts.
My mind wanders with a sense of urgency.
I watched you fade away from me.

I discreetly try to imbibe the origins of your resentment.
Above me you reside as I strive for mere acceptance.

Escaping dignity, I ruined the bridges I built,
and bruised by your excuses I melancholicly  wilt,
condemned by a guilt that I can’t abandon, My love  for you is more than a fandom.

I’ve derobed your more times with my eyes than you have with your paws,
Our time together was macabre, Showing all of our flaws.
Andrea Vasquez May 2016
You say you see it
The monster that lies beneath
The bruised skin of hers
The nightmare that is deadly
Particularly hateful

Her eyes threaten life
Her smile can lure and destroy
They claim she's crazy
She survives her fear of death
But not her fear of people

She runs until tired
She may never come back home
Cries until dawn
She waits for night to come again
She is framed as a killer
Jonah Long Apr 2016
In my mind I can imagine panacea for my poison.
My bruised and ravaged body crashes up upon the shore.
Sin leaks from all these wounds, and my friends abandon ship
As I float off to forever with deaths kiss upon these lips.
And I never asked for nothing, and that's just what i got
if my pride dies before i do as I fall I might be caught.
I wasted all my days chasing things that can't be seen.
As I come into your presence, now I know what humble means.
I wrote this after reading the Parable of the prodigal son
KL Feb 2016
You ripped my
Dark beating heart
Out of my chest
Held it in your hands
Admired the feel,
Gave it a kiss
Then made the cold pain
Turn to warm love,
Then threw it on the ground
Stomped all over it
Leaving it with fingertips
That once held my heart
And is now left with scars
And bruises that
Can't be healed
— You will never get to "love" me again
Ethan Moon Dec 2015
.
Black is the colour
Where other colours go
Swimming in
.
I am absorption,
Thick graphite drawings.
Tar, pitch, embellished
.
Bruised colours like flowers;
Hidden powers in these cowards.
Mortals are more fun than gods–I touch
.
Music, sinews, my flesh, fie,
These lights bruise my eye–it’s cold
I smell. Sigh. Rain and earth, fresh,
Solid. Home
.
Black is a colour
I swim. Sleep. Such
Is this: I am not Hamlet’s Ghost
.

13/12/2015
Sophia Gaffney Nov 2015
She was alone,
Positively prone to persistent poverty
Cruelty
Shown shuttering darkness as the door locked,
The light gone.
Her moms love massacred monstrous by drugs
As her heart stirred to stone
But see, she’d rather be alone.
She could die by neglect benign rather than the desired suicide
A homicide
Would cause the law to head on collide with her mom’s careless ride
And crush her from the inside.
Mental ******
As prison became her permanent reside
Why was suicide desired,
Seen brighter,
Than life?
Why was dying alone,
Locked in the never ending absence of home,
better than being with her?
She only provided horror,
Terror,
Tore her limb from limb,
Skinned her clean and hung her limp
Her body was perfectly profitable
Tasty, like prey for an animal
So mom made money, men got ******, and her spirit died brutal
Utterly dishonorable
She clung on for survival
All the while that devil on her shoulder told her to crumble
To let go and tumble
For the darkness of the depths would feel better than the bombs of this one-woman brothel
And in despair so utterly understandable her hand unbuckled
and she released.
As gravity pushed, her speed increased
Chest hit the ground, her battling lungs ceased,
Blood clung to life on the sidewalk, filling every crease.
Peering over the edge,
her mothers face was emotionally at peace
as the light of her day forever deceased.
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