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Saint Audrey Apr 2019
So integral, this feeling
I can't make myself ignore it

The waves seep chill from off the wind
My thoughts, caught up in the current

I found the beauty in the lake
If only for a moment.

I ignored it for so long
But it's mine, just for a second

The calming wind over the lake
Caught in the skin of this horrid face

Scared and truly alone.

If I could only drift away...
Is it living?

Or is it just dying slowly?
Cait Apr 2019
I am going to die.
I am going to die.
I am going to die.

I            am                going                 to             die

Iamgoingtodie

I
am
going
to
die

I. am. going. to. die.

I. am. going. to. die.

I'm going to die

im going to die


im going to die



i will die
Kobain Apr 2019
Go ignore yourself, go be someone else,
Say it’s all okay, smile another day.
smile, inside you’re crying,
Laugh, inside you’re dying.
Say it’s just a moment, it’ll go in a minute,
hide away your feelings, bottle all emotions.
You keep hearing questions, questions you can’t answer,
You don’t know the answers, growing sick and tired.

Go ignore your friends, possibly the best,
watch em walk away, from this utter fake,
Doesn’t know themselves, doesn’t know what to say.
Smile, there’s no tomorrow,
laugh, there’s no today.
They don’t know you, darling like I do.
Ignore the silent voices, mute yourself you’re silent,
watch as you scream and shout, look there’s not a sound.

Go ignore you’re family, they don’t mean a thing,
No it’s all ok,  they‘re just everything to you.
Go avoid your father,
just cause he will hate you, if he only knew,
who you are today, such a disappointment,
Bad taste , bad excuses, god you’re really hopeless.
Go avoid your mother,
Yes avoid her questions, go ahead keep you’re distance,
Watch her sit in silence, watch it you’ll lose her too.

The world still turns and turns,
the worlds still in its orbit.
We’ve got a billion thounsand heads,
millions loosing their sleep.
And a billion thousand hearts,
millions of them hurting.
I am only one,
in billion thousand souls,
So insignificant,
So irrelevant.
Jenna Apr 2019
This chair does not get any older
sitting here, it dents with old emotions
no longer still but a swelling embrace
a cushion to my exhaustion
it becomes weary in wait
holding me like my legs can do no more
it resembles your hair in a way
choppy brown and representing age
sometimes I wonder if this chair will
become brand new again
like a new random chance
of good luck that I wish your body
could sustain whilst gazing at you
pondering if you can feel my passive stare

Perhaps it would have been better
to lay with you on your bed
making it a little less lonely
being provided with your warmth
compared to this thin blanket
it was another reminder of how
I cannot feel your body heat against mine
your bed dips a bit more every day
showing your weight, may be a little deeper
though it sings me good night
while squirming in your presence and
the fact this chair is becoming quite uncomfortable

I wonder if I will ever get off it again
waiting for your eyes to peer at me again,
again, to tell me that your leaving now
and the coldness really will settle in
Philomena Apr 2019
Is is a broken glass girl
The crack started small
Broken under the pressure of her life and her pain
And with every breakdown the spread
From her heart to her limbs
Tiny fractures foreshadowing her end
And she crumbles more and more each day
Dying slowly but not entirely
Someone save the broken glass girl
Strung Apr 2019
It’s supposed to be spring
So where are the flowers?
The brightest of stars
Bringing beautiful laughter
-
If it’s supposed to be spring,
Then where are my flowers?
My laughter my love and my beautiful chapters?
-
If it’s supposed to be nice, if I’m supposed to be done
Then why do I feel like just flesh without bone?
-
Why am I empty
And frozen throughout?
Am I missing my springtime by having this drought?
-
My flowers have settled
To stay in the ground...
I’m sorry, my spring never showed up this round.
Axion Prelude Apr 2019
Silent pleas are meaningless in the face of overwhelming odds. The strength to move forward is not always as easy for some than others, yet the others who can afford such staunch accord seem to never comprehend how difficult a task it is to simply rise from bed.

The ones who see most seem to always be most blind to the qualms of those with such resonant concern for the pithy; even the innate ire of one begets the inherent ire of all.

Slowly, thoughts become tangible, changing from empty shadows to a festering aura. It leeches life from all things good and meaningful, and there begins the downfall.

Things which once were the epitome of joy - sometimes subtly, sometimes abruptly - become festering reminders of what once was; they sit rotting at the pit of a dissonant cacophony of sore misdirection, doubt, and unwavering fear, a solemn reminder of yesterday and everything which can not be had anymore.

Anger suffices where patience once stood watch over all interactions. In that brings suffering from doubt for all things said and done, all things come and gone, and all things not yet relevant, real, or existent. The agony builds in each passing moment, staggering and belittling; suffocation enduring, mired belligerent tones of sheer desolation sets the stage for a Grey, toneless perception.

Once stagnant, all fades away. Sounds echo broadly, profusely; words fall short in every regard; feeling stops existing, plight becomes numb: an emptiness no other void can retain or convey becomes standard, and the moment fades away becoming not one, but many. Becoming persistent, real, and the only thing true.

Emptiness suffices where a whole sum of love, experience, and joy once was. All things considered, nothing brings memory of such passions. Nothing breaks the void away. Nothing changes, nothing progresses.

Emptiness consumes everything, even rationality of resolution. All one can think of is escaping this nonsensical devouring void. But it's not possible, because nothing good exists here.

And the cycle repeats
Perdue Poems Apr 2019
I sit beneath the willow
As all my thoughts run free
Skipping through the meadow
Of true tranquility

I sit beneath the willow
As winds begin to blow
I feel the stumble of my thoughts
Into the valley's low

I sit beneath the willow
As rains begin to pour
I hear the gurgle of my thoughts
Till thoughts I think no more

A cloudy sky is all I see
A mind of dull torpidity
I sit beneath the willow
I sit beneath the willow
Allan Dunn Apr 2019
The birds woke me up
With the singing of their voices
Such a lovely little song
But my head fills with choices
the birds sing and make a new song
As I sit in my bed wishing to die
But somehow I still listen along
trying not to cry
Because I’ve learned the birds are not singing
The lovely noises are their crying
We have so much in common
Just like me, they wish to be dying
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