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Leocardo Reis Jun 2021
I throw away
a tube of toothpaste
to discover
it was the last one.
In bitter defeat
I fish the toothpaste out of the trash
and attempt to squeeze out,
once more,
a morsel
of toothpaste.
Anastasia Jun 2019
I wish I could breathe
Your words are crushing
Stop lying
Saying you were loving me
Some sort of love story
you've thought up in your head.
Darling you just hurt me,
soon I'll be dead.
My lungs are crippling,
crumbling like paper
Little tiny rips
in my skin with sandpaper
breaking me apart
so very slowly
this isn't love
I can tell,
because I'm so lonely.
idk. i was kinda sad when i started this. now im sad cuz i finished it.
crowther Apr 2019
thoughts boggled in
as your heart thumps within
the silent waves that only you can hear
the walls have glistened as the voices arrived
it was out of nowhere
you'll feel the motion; petrified
she who suffers has profound chaos
Daniel Ruiz Mar 2019
The tremble of my hands is equivalent to an old man’s, satisfied with what he has accomplished, but with little time left.

The void in my chest leads my heartbeat into a never ending free fall, going from 0 to almost giving up on me, telling me that today is a good day to die because there won’t be another good day like yesterday. Or the day before, or last week.

Beating faster and faster like in the waiting line of a roller coaster you weren’t expecting to be boarding today.

And it’ll always be easier to not get on, because the wait was a good enough adrenaline rush for me.
Umi Jan 2019
A wall made of my happiest thoughts,
Closing in, a broken environment collapsing at last,
A hole in the ceiling allows a closer look,
To the freedom lost in mere seconds,
Trapped within one's self, unable to escape,
The hollow body wanders through the landscape,
Seeking for a piece to become whole again,
Searching for the fragments of a shattered conscious,
Never succeeding in this mighty mission,
Endlessly, fleeting through the despair of incompletion,
Erased colors draw a grey painted world,
Whilst the incarcerated one suffers with each step taken,
Not being able to open one's eyes, nor even protect the heart once embodied by the enlighting feeling of love,
Fallen into the endless abyss, unable to advance,
These happy thoughts mark the end,
And also the very beginning,
Of eternal slumber.

~ Umi
Alexandrea Dec 2018
        "Do not enter,
         It's dark inside"
Blood-curdling sites on a puzzling path;
Raging rivers;
a thunderstorm rumbled
and broke the silence of the hazy afternoon
My body shivered as the wind flicked at my bared arms.

As I wander through this straggled path,
humiliation continues to interfere
Frightened; brooding eyes
crippling feeling—
I think there's no turning back.

A fragile cage covered with pale greyish green lichens caught my eyes,
an unshackled monster hiding behind those camouflaged woods
those blood red eyes glare in an interminable way—
dread creeping in.

But I need to escape this delusional place
Should I jump off the cliff?
stuck in this maze
thoughts in my mind suffocating me,
can't breathe!

Can't escape;
lost in the dark, and slipped!
Hanging on a rugged cliff;
mouth shut tight when I scream, "HELP ME!"
Can't hold it long
the mistakes I made,
Is this the pain that i'm dealing with?
Is my life still worth it?
Bleed until I was broken
Deep inside it's tellin' me to end it all,
Maybe I should
So I must die
austin Jun 2018
What would it take
to make a grown man cry?
When the only thing important to him
shoots themself and dies

And nobody realized
what was going through her mind
til she loaded one in the chamber
and put it between her eyes

And her soul goes up to the skies
And everyone's asking why
She was young, loving and selfless
It wasn't her time to die

It's only when it's too late
That's when everybody tries
And it's only when it's too late
Now that's when everybody cries

So tell your loved ones they matter
and you might save their lives
'Cause it's only when it's too late
Now that's when everybody cries
A rhetorical question finds me asking
(to no one in particular) why I recall
the names of grade school teachers
approximately fifty years ago (whose
names listed below), when the need

to retrieve necessary information due
ring examinations (less time ago)
often found me seized with sudden
inability to remember any vital ants
sirs (even including my name), thus

grudgingly handing over blank test paper
analogously surrendering a vital
document gracing terms of defeat
into the scaly claws (zen nay), sans

first to sixth grade Precambrian relic
(Missus Batson, Missus Rittenhouse,
Missus Wells, Mister Stout,
Missus Shaner, or Miss Rinderle).

Invariably majority of first thru
sixth grade accorded accredited
ancient authenticated creatures.
They freely exercised diabolical

churlish ******* animalistic zeal
us yakking, wickedly unprintable
upon (unprincipled urchin) at
receiving end of fiendishly grue
some hellish instructions. Assign
ments buttressed with ultimatums

harkening back to Jurassic period
earlier in dawning primate con
sciousness. Lesson material kindled
with justifiable license in league
with garnered insignia. Heft

to bring pupils to heal predicated
via warp and weft woven wonder
fully. Wrought writs welcomed
whips with warranty whenever
recalcitrant ruffian refused

respecting reptilian rubric repre
sentative rattling (The Idler Wheel
Is Wiser Than the Driver of
the ***** and Whipping Cords

Will Serve You More Than Ropes
Will Ever Do), which loosely
rendered regularly warbled
wishy washy verse curmudgeons
freedom granted to interpret

as one decrepit, hawkish insignia
certified one beaming Eve and/
or stud deed brute soffit. Education
often relied on the weekly reader,

and letters to and/or from Aunt
Emma. Nefarious mean linkedin
kickstarter jawboning torturous
treatment tolerated, asper imps

of the pervert, mutant Ninja
Turtles duty bound antsy
youthful yokel yodelers
weathering ululating sing-song
and quintessential precepts.
Logan Paul Dec 2017
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Crippling depression
Is not good for you

Even though you think depression is good
The crippling makes it not very good
Jake searches up crippling depression
But then he finds that he is depression

You may think that this poem is bad
You probably wont live to see another day
So just be happy, and don't be sad

Go follow @devenpawarr on instagram to remove your possible symptoms of crippling depression
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