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I want to be more than me
I want to rise above and conquer all
everything I do and see
everywhere, nev'r fail or fall

But I know it's unrealistic
to believe I'll never disappoint
beyond the light fantastic
my old and weakened joints

So I'll do what makes most sense
and mitigate my choice
save the many
and rue the few

Who no longer have
a voice
The needs of the many.....
I know your minds are set.
You wish me nothing but success.
But how am I to own it,
when I stay caged in your nest?
Stuck between what I want to be
and what I should be.
If only for once, you listen to me.
Please, let me spread my wings
to chase those stars I call dreams.
*sometimes, bad decisions don't make good stories. choose what you really want :)
Jay 4d
Depression, I guess, is a choice
But I guess that it's the prisoner's fault to rot behind bars.
I guess it's the 13-year-old girl's fault that she got viciously degraded by a man and still washes herself at 28, knowing she'll never feel clean again.
I guess it's the child's fault that he goes to bed crying every night because mommy is gone and daddy has taken his pain out on the only part of her left.
I guess it's the soldier's fault that he had to sit there while he watched life after life slowly slip away like ashes in the wind.
I guess it's the mother's fault that her child was born without a father
I guess it's the kid's fault that he was born in his own skin
I guess It is a choice
That we tear each other down till there is nothing left but the dust of insecurity and the ashes of despair
I guess it's a choice that we judge from no experience, saying that attention is the only goal.
When the only goal is to feel happy again.
I guess it's a choice.
That every time I lay down after an exhausting day of picking up the torn and ruined pieces of my mind, I cry.
I don't cry because of the pain in my mind, grinding what is left of my sanity to a pulp.
I cry because No one cares
I guess it's a choice
No one cares... until it's my bones on the floor of death with a rope around my neck as a sign screaming out that I'm emotionally unbalanced
Till my arms are filled up with scars and tears of joy when I bleed out all that I'm worth...
I guess it's a choice
That I am put before you
Like an object to be judged and priced
That my inner demons have conquered my angels and have stuffed them into the tiny cage in the back of my mind
While my mind is screaming out that I am human
Though I don't feel like it
The thoughts, scars, and tears have burned me so much I have to put a mask on before I leave the house.
That I have to make an excuse why I couldn't make it because of the simple fact that my arms burn with the ache of a blade.
That my brain is misunderstood in more ways than one.
That my life means no more than a grain of sand in the bottom of life's shoe, slowly washing away in the river of unjust and pain.
I guess it's my choice...
To live without a grain of happiness in a bowl of despair.
To always be on land but feel like drowning in a pool of misguided feelings and hopeless rage.
But I guess
This is my choice.
I guess I'm the prison to my own mind
I guess that I have locked the doors to my heart and have thrown the keys so far, that I can no longer see it.
I guess I have given up the river of hope to the ocean of self-harm and suicide.
It's not my choice, but the world's standards, abusers, and ignorance.

I didn’t have a choice.
This is about all the things people say are a choice or the things labeled as being your fault.
I often wonder why I’ve always come second to most

People have often looked right through me like some corporeal ghost

I know I’m nothing special but I’ve always done my best

I look out for the people I care for and help at every request

People I call friends have often left me excluded

Maybe calling them friends is just me being deluded

Every woman I’ve cared for has been unfaithful and left

It’s left me with trust issues and in a state of constant unrest

I’ve always wanted someone to pick me and make me feel wanted

Even my mother left me and I wish I could say I was undaunted

I’m so jaded now I doubt I could tell if someone really cared

If that person ever came and went I probably wasn’t prepared

I bet I doubted their intentions and slowly pushed them away

If that was you and you’re reading this I’d like to apologize today

I hope one day someone will show me that I’m not that hard to love

To tell you the truth, I doubt it will happen, but it’s all I’ve ever dreamt of
deep in the forest
green and brown;
and yellow of the sun

between the trees
a spiderweb traps morning dew
but nobody’s home

a fly buzzes-
carefully below the web
without threat

dew struggles to let go
and gravity calls for:
a spiderweb with a fly
Under this palm tree
Lies a man that is not free
Wanted to hang himself
So he could let his mind & heart set free

Lies in front of him...
The clouds, the sun, & other trees
He sat down & thought
How beautiful was these three

Appreciating everything around
Appreciating the beauty that surrounds
It feels like he is home,
It feels like he is not alone anymore

Now, hesitant do his real purpose,
Hesitant to thought that he's alone
But then a minute later,
He pondered of going back to what he has condone
jerelii Oct 6
teen age, young adults
how’d you make choices in life
go straight or u-turn.
Sept, 2018
Ghostwriter Oct 5
Don't know what to do
I've fallen for two
Who should I pick
Between the both of you
CallMeVenus Oct 4
I am bisexual. I am sure of that.
I've been sure of it for quite some time now.
I came to realize something.
If I end up with a woman I am going to embrace the essence of everything that's broken and fucked up about me and claim it as my own and let it define my identity.
Now don't get me wrong that doesn't mean it's gonna be a sad life or that my female partner will make me miserable.
We will have lots of amazing and breathtaking moments and happy yellow days.
But there will always be some gray in the corner of my vision.
Gray will never leave.
All of my depth will forever be in the back of my mind.
And depth requires some darkness.
But I will be fully me. Real me. A picture frozen in time.

However, if I end up with a man I will probably abandon my depths and my grays.
I will forever be feeling like some part of me is missing but I will be leading a whole new life which will be about learning to love myself and nothing will ever be broken.

Do I even make sense?
What does that say about me?
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