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I'm an addict.
But no, not the usual kind.
I dont prefer the adrenaline
that comes from being needle happy.
Or the powedered nose high from *******.
Its the gliding of a freshly sharpened blade
and the splitting of a fresh wound.
It's the puffiness of my soft pale skin
And the permanence of my self-hate.
It's the hate notes scribbled on my thighs
And my skin reflecting the brokeness in my eyes.
I'm an addict.
But no, not the usual kind.
my jokes are never funny enough
my mind is never sunny enough
Are my tears even runny enough
to be counted as real?

i was in love with a boy, i was not enough
i am in love with a boy, i am not enough
i will love a boy, i will not be enough
Why is perfect the goal right now?
Perfect hair, perfect house, perfect waistline.
Whatever happened to just being happy...
Accepting the good, the wonderful, the fine.
There is so much more to life...
Than things, appearance and stuff.
If you spend your life looking for perfect...
Nothing will ever be enough!
Do what makes you happy...
Don't think about what they will say.
Who cares what other people think?
This is your life, live it your own way!
There is no such thing as perfect...
It's untouchable, unreal, untrue.
Do your best, be your best...
Be kind, be nice, be you!
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
Changes and grows and bores -
The seasons, as fall does spring,
Wishing for adventure and fun
When life is repetitive boring,
Wishing for dull and familiar
When life is fast unpredictable,
Discontent with the old taken
New is wished for, thus craving
This will be the human heart -
Always wanting, always depart
Of contentment, and always it
Finds change and changing, yet
Stills for a time enough to rest
Makes way for the new but does
Forget not the old and rusted,
It finds, it claims, it renews, and
It outgrows, rots, buries for new,
This will be its gifted curse living
Until its last very beat breathing
Fickle, want, and sentimental,
Human hearts as molten metal
As forever shifting unto death
Accursed gift of everlasting unrest.
All I have,
All I can give,
is my time,
and my poetry,
I can give you
all my hours,
I can immortalize you
with my words,
and have you run
miles in my mind,
making you my world,
leaving me -
hopelessly hoping that
that would be enough.
It never is though,
is that really enough
to afford love?
The Sun only knows how to shine
Furiously, intensely so and so
Why would that version of love
and loving be wrong?
The Earth only knows how to dance
to the tune of set and rise,
It revolves, all her life, around
her lover, spinning around him, her star
And, yet, to each other, that is
more than enough that they give
that they take from, to, one another
to them that is love, to them
that is living, that is life.
han 4d
I am not too much
you don't have enough
to even comprehend
a self reminder
Alexis 5d
Oh why, why should I die?
When I can breathe with my heart
And let all the birds fly.
Oh why, why should I die?
When my love for me is yet to be
And the suffering is starting to flee.
Oh why, why should I die?
When mountains still echo my name
Knowing that this will be no game.
Oh why, why should I die?
When my eyes can dream open
Without the image being broken.
Oh why, why should I die?
When my wings are not heavy anymore
Finally feeling the freedom I swore.
Oh why, why should I die?
When I am whole
Just with my soul.
Nothing I do
Will ever be good enough,
Will it?
Not for you,
Not for anyone.
And that gut-wrenching realization
Crushes me to pieces
Every ******* time.
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