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Atlas 4h
Keep moving
My breath is ragged
I can't stop
Lest they catch up to me

Physical pain is
Better than Mental
Cutting isn't enough
Running isn't enough

I'm heading to the lake
A bottle of pills bounces in my pocket
With every step I take
Sweat mixes with tears

At last I am here
Best do it quick
Before they come back
Pills spill out onto shaky hands

Swallow
Take off my shoes
Wade into the lake
At last I can let go
M 16h
Drowning with my tears,
Forever it will exist.

I can't continue anymore,
I need to sleep.

Thank you for the memories,
It will remain forever in my head.

I'm drowning with my tears,
I need some help.
Ally 20h
It starts small.
A thought.

Then it grows.
It turns into actions.
Malice.
Not to others but to yourself.

The lines start small,
Almost to faint to notice.

Then , they grow.
They begin to deepen,
In hopes of drowning out the pain.
The pain of everyday life.

They hurt,
But not as much as your heart does.

It starts small,
As a thought.
But as it grows,
As it struggles to keep up with your flooding emotions.
It begins to strangle you.
The thoughts begin to hurt.
They scream;
Hear us
Hear us
, but what if We don’t want to hear them.

The thoughts that start those lines.
The thoughts that starve us.
The thoughts that deprive us of living a fufilled life.

Hear us.
See us.
They scream.
For anyone feeling the same way I am here
Stricken-down, struggling and stranded,
Dealt a hand that was quite underhanded.
I am done with never settling down,
Always having to run –
I am standing my ground stubbornly,
I am a storm of sounds,
Discourteously curmudgeonly.

I will not accept defeat -
I feel naught except the beat,
The rhythm, the flow, the show –
The hurt dissipates as I let go.
On these two feet,
I fight the finite, finicky, fraudulent conmen of deceit.
It’ll serve you right when you get roasted by the roaring heat,
When mother death cometh with hungry babes at her ****.

Stranded or at ease, it doesn’t matter,
Landed like a breeze, serving poetry on a platter.
I’ve been feeling like my time is really up,
Like there’s the ceiling and all I can do is get numb.
That, or just ******* wander off and die;
Just like that, with no explanation as to how or why.

I can’t go on like this, I can’t blow off life’s bliss.
Thing is, if I knew I was going to die and live on somewhere else,
I can’t even think of what I’d actually miss.
I don't know what to do with my poetry to be honest...doesn't really seem like anyone wants to read it, anymore. Maybe it's time to let go.
Sweet cherry blossoms
Are drowning in your eyes;
Drifting out to Sea
Another haiku for my love
Deep wounds on my back, I'm gallery of scars. Take a gander feast your eyes, a tarnished heart is my signature.

Vistiges of my soul dangling on toothpicks, dinner well relished by friends foes glimmer with empathy. Malice pleased, who is my enemy?

The excrement of animals drowning in the sewers, is that the existence the best of self I can only persue huh?

Warriors screams with torn diaphragms asking for help will I sleep quietly without a helping hand,
Will I sleep quietly without a helping hand?
Drowning in waters of storm
I flail desperately to keep my head
above the glimmering
surface.
Invisible to the ones I need the most
my plea for help leaves my lips unheard
And so I drown with no company save my
shadow.
I want to get drunk on the stars
to have their luminescent light fill my being
and fill in the cracks left by my
scars.
So I swallow shards of glass
in a futile attempt to end the pain
I close my eyes and let them shred who  I am
who I used to be.
But when the stained slivers fill my gut
all I feel is cold numbness
All I hear are their words so carefully cruel
slashing into me like
knives.
So I curl up in a ball on the bottom of the lake
and let myself drown
Into darkness
Into oblivion.
-Esther Krenzin-
-Roguesong-
Sometimes what we think might save us from ourselves, only harms us further.
truly,
what is there to lose
when all has been said and done
when all that is left is a shadow?

what more do i have to lose
other than the sliver of hope
i so desperately hold on to;
what else do i have left?

truly.
what can i do
when even the happiest days have gone by
and time kills as the seconds pass by?
Amelia 6d
Sometimes,
I feel paralyzed
With the heartache I feel.
Sometimes,
My mind doesn't stop jumping
From conclusion to conclusion
On why my friend didn't text me back.
Sometimes,
I genuinely cannot comprehend
What I did, or do,
That compels everyone to run
When they see me.
Sometimes,
I hear that little voice in my head,
Telling me exactly why
They didn't want me in the group chat.

Sometimes,
I feel so suffocated with
The feeling that no one
Will ever want me.
Sometimes,
I feel like I'm drowning
In the sea of self- doubt
And self- loathing.

...
I hope you enjoyed Part 2! This poem is a very emotional one for me and I am really excited to share it. Part 1 is on my profile if you would like to read it from the beginning. Thank you!
scratchy and damp do not harmonize underfoot
and fear and the ocean should not coexist
but like this elevator missing the thirteenth button, my comfort sinks with tantalizing, lethargic anxiety.

the boards are a smokeless fire underfoot,
grit rolling between me and chipped brown paint,
as i beg for cold, thirst for salt, but do not run to the provocative, promising body beyond the dunes.

and my clothes are underfoot,
and this lemonade pink towel whose corner grabs at the sand,
and the hot dry fades into something that is sturdy and packed down by bounds like mine.

carbon slices at my underfoot,
the sharp home of a long-dead thing,
as my heel strikes the iron, water-pat shore, and the shock of it stuns my bones.

shock! cold underfoot
lace between my toes, smoking from wood and run
and then my face is in the sea, because who needs air when life is the sun trapping itself in the pink of my shoulder blades?
I haven't written poetry in a very long time, but am putting together a small portfolio for a writing class assignment. Any and all advice is more than welcome, even if you're the type who can't say it nicely!
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