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I’m haunted by the demons that lurk in my mind, they scream foul words my way. From the pits of hell they’ve clawed their way out, I’m left alone to fend myself, yet I grow weary of the hell I’m in, and endless loop, overcome with grief I sink into my own rot. An endless cycle with no hope in sight, distraught is such a pretty word to describe this vicious cycle of self hatred and hurt.

How little light do I see, flickering in and out of existence. I am nothing but a speck of dust on this earthly plane, I grow tired, I am becoming undone.
Dreaming every night of something, anything, yield my weary soul for she’s tired and ready to become undone.
Jennifer May 2020
mind races at night as of
late, eyes ache and i am
uncomfortably warm;
covers on and off,
hourly trips to the bathroom
just to break up my night
of turning and tossing,
thinking and dozing
but never sleeping.
aching with starvation and
frustration it’s
hard not to groan into
my pillow
and i squint at a
screen for a few minutes
yearning for a distraction but
no one is there.
too late: 1, 2, 3,
4 o’clock and the sun’s already
shining through my sheer
cream curtains.
feels like a trap, like a room with
no doors or windows
but it’s ever so bright.
my hair is tousled and damp with
sweat, dreams are black and
last no longer
than blinking.
Anastasia Jun 2019
There were rainbow colors in the skies
=
She had clouds in her eyes
=
She saw things with colors no ones ever seen before
=
She had keys to every door.
=
All of them except for his heart
=
And it slowly tore her apart
=
It tore her to pieces
=
And now she is dreamless
=
And all of her colors are gone
old poem. it's... not very personal. but i liked it enough to post it. hope you do too. <3
Caitlin Apr 2019
With a sigh of relief
the numbness is back.
I wake up in the morning
waiting for when I can take my medicine
and go back to sleep.
I'm not abusing it.
I take it when I'm supposed to.
But sleep is my favorite past time
because nothing hurts when I sleep.
Pauper of Prose Jan 2019
What of the young Donna
Reclining with book in hand
A sigh circling her lips
A glaze greeting her gaze
Her thoughts bored of days
Endless days
Depthless days
Where every voice and all actions
Are slowly stewed
In rich stock of routine
And people arrive, bowls in hand
Forming long, bending lines
Like the Depressions of old
Where defeat, distrust, damage
Linger and lay
Within the sleepless eyes of many
Inspired by the painting A Decadent Girl by
Ramon Casas
KL Taguiam Dec 2015
We sat under a star-filled sky,
talking,
thinking,
gazing
at each other.

We sat under a cloudless sky,
holding hands as you lean on my shoulder,
wondering
where we are heading.

We stood under the pouring rain,
shouting,
denying,
hurting,
losing what we have,
what could have been,
and what should have been.

I sat under a starless sky,
blank,
reaching out
to the void,
hoping it would consume,
this unending pain;
hoping it would consume,
this utter dreamless life.
This poem is dedicated to those who have experienced loss. May the hollowness never defeat you.
Sydney Marie Jun 2015
I wanna punch walls
And throw glass
And curse all the curse words

Yet I stay still and quiet.
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