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Kaitland Jan 12
I twist and contort from the light
Hiding my cracking porcelain skin
If I step too hard an arm will fall to the earth and shatter. Turn to quick and my ribs will crumble inwards. So delicate I walk on glass  stick legs, careful my footprints don’t leave stains in the snow. I shudder upwards towards the moon but only reach my bedroom window, in I go, they’ll never know.
I prop myself up on the wire stand that keeps me from collapsing and gently lower down the bell jar that keeps me safe. I pop a blue pill to sleep and pray I don’t wake up tomorrow.
june ivy Aug 2020
Went and got a tattoo just for the needle
See myself out of body, I don't need her
Spinning till morning
Looking at old pics mourning
I don't know why it's happening again
I thought I was done being broken
In and out like the breath from my lungs
Fast heartbeat but not from the drugs
Please, no
Another low
**** me slow
Poetic T Feb 2019
I could hear her words,
              faintly..
       like an echo through water.

But I want drowning.

  When I was in the womb
          I swam in darkness..

Now all I see is
            white heavy clouds,
            depriving me of breath...

The last thing I saw was my mother
                        crying,
as my father
        ran with me, then I saw blue..

And knew he'd never let me drown
                          in her arms..
smothered
emi munroe Mar 2018
I’m not sad. I really mean it.
I swear I’m fine as I am when the words I’m fine slip out of my lying mouth.
I don’t know what you want me to say when I say I don’t feel.
Do you want me to lie as I do when I say I don’t need help.
Do you want me to say I’m happy, an emotion I haven’t felt in years. Or do you want me to tell the truth deep down honestly, I don’t feel anything.
My emotions went away on a trip and I don’t know where they are. Serotonin took a U-turn out of my mind.
Dopamine lost the fight. But I’m fine, I don’t need your help.
I’m fine sitting alone
on my white turned red bed surrounded by my failures.
Arthur Vaso Oct 2017
God called upon me tonight
Collect
I couldn't accept the charges, hard times
R M Jul 2017
I try not to worry
her
So much that sometimes
I answer
I’m fine
before
Hello
when she calls
because I know to her
I’m still more bone than
skin
I’m an empty bottle of
pills
One breath away from non
existence
A blood stain she scrubbed
with her tears
I’ve already worried years
off of her life
while trying to end
my own
So when she phones to
to check on me
I’ll always be fine
no matter what is
going on in my life
and sometimes before
Hello
JayneDoh May 2017
Hollow and empty within
Scattered leaves, on crimson ground
Horror waiting to begin

Closed door, cracked and chipped
Building from a ruin
Beating, bleeding, ripped

Screams shatter the silence
Inside the mind, they rage outwards
Dwelling and feasting on violence

The evolution of agony
Sinister but regal I reign
Waves on contempt wash over me

Who am I, you say
I am the abyss
And this is the only way
https://www.wattpad.com/story/94248267-abyss-at-the-bottom-of-the-sea
Goddess Dec 2016
If I die today don't say you'll miss me.
I've been dead inside for years yet somehow you couldn't tell when you kissed me
If I die tomorrow please don't cry
All I've wanted for years was to be able to die..
physically
To finally be free of my thoughts & my misery
To be able to see once & for all if being here served a purpose
Does god really exist? Or was living by all those rules simply worthless.
When I'm gone please don't pretend you care
Because when I was alive, you were never there
All I ever wanted was to appreciated & understood
But all you ever saw in me was the bad, not the good
Now I'm gone & you wanna talk about how you loved me.
Yet When I was alive you put everything above me.
Basically what I'm saying is don't wait til its too late, because feeling so alone can lead to self hate.
Self hate to self harm
Self harm to killing myself
When if you'd taken the time to ACTUALLY care, it could've done a world of help.
Olivia Frederick Nov 2015
I can tell I'm depressed
When I don't take the laundry
Out of the washer,
Where it has been cleansed of its sins
Of passion, or rage, of greasy fast food.
My filthy hands would ruin them.


So I wait for my roommate
To baptize his own spotless hands
With MY damp boxers.
The habitual thuds of my soggy clothes
Against the back of the dryer
Are a nice distraction.

My favorite flannel dances
With her tiny lost sock.
But 45 minutes isn't enough.
I don't want to end their fun,
So I leave them there
And hope that they'll fuse forever.

He tosses the clothes onto my floor,
Scattering them, wrinkling them, freeing them.
Corduroys atop henleys under crew socks and tees.
Folding them would be a waste
Of a catastrophic masterpiece.
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