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Edward Dominic Mar 2019
Are we perfect because there's no forever,
We can't learn to hate ourselves together.
Inside and outside show the same,
Love lust, quick release, just a game.
There is nothing there that we could cover,
No feelings that we smothered.
If it's not love then it can't hurt,
Climbing into bed without a word.

Slowing down would mean boredom,
So we're left with no time to find the problem.
The role of both a lover and friend,
A candle wick rope lit at either end.
Now, alone with time to dwell,
The idea doesn't sit quite so well.
A memory can't help the mending.
Short and sweet always has an ending.

Are you just my fixation?
A figment of some sweet imagination?
If I picked your life apart
To see what I could have known from the start,
Would I find myself happy
In the face of a reality?
Or sad? As, broken at the seams,
I see the remnants of my tentative dream.
Riley Cartwright Dec 2018
In my memories you were so pretty the first day we met. I immediately noticed your smile as you were in awe of my team performing. I noticed your eyes as you kept your gaze trained to me.

What was it about me that kept you fixated?

I know my long hair made me look like a dork, but it wasn't too different.

So what drew you towards me?

If I ever go back and ask you, would you even remember?
Alicia Allen Jun 2018
Here is a response I must give but cannot give to whom must receive it.
You feed the need.
A yawning dark and deep emptiness that lies within.
devouring everything it touches
dragging to its depths
an eternity of punishing hunger, wild and intense
gnawing away at the fabric of my mind, an emptiness that desires you
your presence,your warmth, your smell, your very soul.
to placate, to fill
I crave for you.
a yearning so maddening, it is frightening
But even as you fill, you increase the emptiness. crazed and rabid, I desire you still.
an ache as tangible as it is visceral
as painful as it sooths
as though I am caught in a fevered dream
tell me my perception from your reality
you feed the need, even as you cause the hunger still.
a desire so strong it physically hurts
justine grace Apr 2018
She prefers coffee than tea
romance over action
the window seat whenever she travels
ballads than punk rock
a hopeless romantic
for cliche scenes
roses and daisies are
the favourite among all
she loves all that
yet she'll love you more
than a character in the book she reads
she'll do whatever it is to make you happy
regardless the good days or the bads
you can always count on her to be there
she makes you dizzy
she makes you think
she makes you go crazy
but you go crazier if you don't get to see her
even for a day
because you love her
you have fallen for her
the way she talks
the way she smiles
rambles on about current dramas
and gets excited everytime
her favourite artists comes out with a new single
you love her quirks
her silliness
how good of a heart she possesses
and how far she would go for the people she loves
she sees the good in people
even when they have done her wrong
she forgives because she believes in change
but she breaks
she doesn't realize that she's just human
that she has feelings
that she can't fix everybody and everything
because that is life
people step on you and make use of your goodness
so you protect her
with all you got
even if it hurts her
you protect her heart
because you love her
because it's your responsibility
to keep her happy
and protect her from the bad

Amanda Apr 2018
I do not know why I love the needle
The pain as it enters my skin
I long for the sight of blood bursting into the syringe
Far more than the dangerous drugs contained within
I wrote this right after I got clean and realized how hard it is to go from shooting up three times a day to not at all. I figured it was fitting since today i have been clean off ****** for THREE MONTHS! Everyone out there struggling: you can do it!!!!
Amanda Apr 2018
I love the needle
They call it a "fixation"
I call it friendship
I hate that i am/was addicted to such a self harming object more than the drugs themself. I dont miss ****** at all but i do still think about the thrill of seeing blood fill the syringe. I also had a horrible time hitting a vein so that is probably also part of it.
poesuer Jan 2018
a 7 day
is the only day
I can get into heaven

46 times a year
(not including the whole of july)
I'm allowed to try

7, 17, 27

lucky numbers

I didn't think I'd make it through 2017
a year of free passes
to let the angels walk me down the aisle
and marry me to the sky

on a 7 day
they- the angels-
will calm my trembling and convulsing body
clean up all of my *****
take out the part of my brain that makes me feel bad
grab hold of my bleeding wrists and bandage them with feathers and love

they hold my hands
lifting me up by the grace of god herself
and 700 eyes emerge
out of every wound and pore in my skin

and I become
my own angel
my own god

I will become
my own holy number 7
suicide by number 7 seems like a wonderful way to go. Maybe thats my autism talking.
Zero Nine Nov 2017
Sipping on OJ after ***, after ******* on a cigarette
   Night outside grows frozen as Autumn slips into Winter
She the Fire sleeps deeply, deep inside of me
   She's determined to hang moss bangs over Her face
      Block Her view from death's stony stare
         She's determined to sleep forever

What if I cut, what if I dig the skin to wake Her?
                   What if I starve the stomach?
Heave the breast toward the hand upon the chest with razor?

We all need Fire in the coldest days
Don't tell me   I'm in control
As you speak them, I speak too
We all say
   We all say
Don't tell me   I'm in control
We all break
   We all break
We've all broken ourselves

She's determined to sleep forever
i'm ready
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