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Alex Hoffman Jul 2015
You think to yourself
“I’m always going to be mad at them”
You hope it’s true, though you secretly know it can’t be
When you’re mad you want to be mad
When you’re sad, a part of you feels alive
So you hold that grudge. Hold it tight
Because tomorrow, you might be happy
—back to square one.
Shanay Love Feb 2015
Write about me
Hold the pencil (as if)
It were my waist
Whisper of your mishaps
as  if I were a page

And as your guilt trips
exude the  bitterness
of your heart...
allow me to explain
why you're in my thoughts
(But)

Graphite can decipher
yet so little
To write about you
(Your feelings aloof)
Would  be the story
at minimal

So, I hold the Pencil
Loosely, without claim
I refuse to explain lust
...
Next Time I write,
It'll be about us
I wrote this during my instructional focus class.  Its about this boy... He writes too; hopefully , one day it'll be about us.  For now, we'll be friends until he can forget about his ex.  I doubt it.
Jessica Jan 2015
When all else fails, believe that there is something greater out there.
Some all encompassing creator that loves each and every one of us the same.
He hears everything, sees everything, and he will forgive you.
Forgive you for everything you should never be forgiven for.
Forgive you for the pain and suffering that you have put many through.
He will forgive you because everyone deserves to be forgiven.
I will never forgive you.
And I don't believe in him either.
Corlene Beukes Dec 2014
There hangs a cross
in my room,
of wire, shoe polish,
and of you.

A heavenly sign
sent from above,
it brought life and
it brought love.

There hangs a cross
in my room,
of wire, shoe polish,
and of you.

An ungodly sign
with a history of blood
that now brings death and
now brings a grudge.
Bobbie Bachelor Dec 2014
They say that they hate you
Because you won't stop cutting

But life
Is getting complicated
And you're twisting
And turning
Out of relationships faster
Than a Nascar left turn

You spin out
Angry
You get stuck in the grass
Hitting the wall

The reality of it
Is
Your heart
Metaphors aside
You had one too many crushes
Way too fast

You never took it slow
Too fast
Too furious

Now you're burnt out

Slash
Blood
Drip
Drip

Blank stare
Look up

The mirror

It should've cracked by now
You're
Ugly

You smile
Walk over to the mirror

Who are you?

you start laughing

You hear your mom call your name
She's wondering
Why you're laughing so hard

You yell
Nothing
Just thought of something really funny

She yells back
What?

You say
You wouldn't get it

She says
Dinner's gonna be ready soon
Don't let it get cold again
Or you're grounded
that word echoes in your head
Grounded
Grounded
Grounded

you open your eyes

That's right

The song...
The intro

You approach the mirror

Scenes of you breaking it
In sync

You stare at the broken mirror
Your mother rushes upstairs
Shakes the door
Pounding
Yelling your name

Are you okay in there
Are you

Her voice fades away

End of passion play
Crumbling away
I'm your source of self-destruction

you grab a piece of the mirror

Veins that pump with tear
******* dark with fear

You slash your wrists

Your moms screams your name
Your father runs upstairs

Leading on your death's destruction

you cut again

Taste me you will see

you lick your blood from your wrists

More is all you need

you keep cutting more and more

Dedicated to

Your father breaks open the door
And your mother gasps

your eyes begin to glow

How I'm killing you

your reflection disappears

Come crawling faster

darkness begins to creep from the mirror and moves its way towards your father

Obey your Master

it starts to choke the life out of your father and he slowly starts to die

Your life burns faster

you stare at your mother... then look at your father and say

Obey your Master
Master

you  wake up in bed
your heart is racing

Your dad knocks on the door
And says
Are you coming down to eat?

your eyes glow

Yes father

you walk passed the mirror
no reflection

I'm coming down
To eat

Master
Master

Mwahahahahaha

Ha
NoislessShackles Aug 2014
Wood ignites in the dusty pit.
The man never bothers to clean it.

He's sat on a chair piled with cooking books.
They increase his height.
The man knows this.
And so to past time
He swings his feet.

Face, as dull as always,
He revels in silence.

You'd think he was dead
How unresponsive he was to the world.

He always knew what he
wanted to become in life,
Cooking was his one love.
One push out the door
from a big name, though,
Gave no space for a comeback.

He's put up a shield
to block out the world.
No longer looks forward to fun.

What is he doing with the rest of his life,
He's spending his time drinking ***.

© J-d S. J
A short story showing the reason behind a silly man's obsession.
Luna Casablanca Jun 2014
Go through hell once, try to let go and forget.
The others come in, and there's the upset.
I'll be the bigger person, that job is done.
When it comes to getting praised and credit,
there is none.
Never knowing our right place.
You don't even have to say it to my face.
We are smart enough to find out what is said about me and everyone else there is no doubt.
But as the days go on,
and more is discussed as we say it and talk,
we forget who and what the problem is really about.
I walk this place alone, no problem there.
But you putting this weight on my shoulders creates you into being unfair.
There is no blame.
I feel no shame.
Since I said what I needed and did what I had to do,
and I handled with such maturity, discipline, strength and even,
I did everything and was very sane.
I won the game.
However, even if you are still very ******* and horrified at what I did and if you don't agree, you have no reason to.
But I will be civil on you.
But for now on, let my decisions be up to me.
Where I go shall be seen in my eyes .
Perhaps my independence
will represent what you heard from the other side.
They were lies.
False criticisms, endless battles, force, and belief in no point of view but our own.
I may have frustration, anger, and obsessive talk,
but I have kindness to loan.
I have the right to lift off and release this pushing weight.
It's about the problem
not a persons annoying trait.
We all learned from this falling out,
even though I never received my apology.
I am over this and I didn't lose anything.
I can still breathe.
You learned so much from me.
Now, I understand everything, but I am not sorry.
I have words put in my mouth.
I have depression in my body and my head.
It's time for you to understand
the words that I said.
Now thank you for noticing
how I struggled with this weight on my shoulders.
Very heavy indeed.
I felt this weight that you all put on me went in and through my muscles and it effected me mentally.
It's now your turn to feel it.
And take in and accept your doing in this falling out that occurred.
You cannot let it push you down,
and you cannot let it make you trip.
So now,
you feel the pain I dealt with.
And even though I forgive without any sorrow,
I see now,
that you get it. I am right indeed, and you know
why I did it.
Hannah Thomas May 2014
You act so perfect
With your straight hair
and big round eyes
and skinny waist

You are so smart
and kind and gentle
and loving and you want
to work with children. Aww.

Everybody likes you,
no one can say anything bad
or they are just jealous
and spiteful.

Why do you get to be perfect?
Why can’t I be smart, and kind, and gentle
and loving and wants to work with children?
It’s because of you.

Anything I say, you have already said
Any joke I make is not as funny as yours
Any job I want to do, you have already claimed
I can’t think, can’t feel around you

I sit here, spiralling into dispair
looking at the Facebook status
supporting you, when I need it most
but, in comparison, I’m not you

One day, I will be perfect
and I will be more perfect than you
I will be smarter, and kinder, and more gentle
and more loving and be helping children more than you

And you can sit, spiralling
while Facebook is celebrating me
and has forgotten you
because you are not me

But this is a fantasy
and can never happen
because I will never be you
and it’s your fault.

**I cannot wait to be rid of you.
Colette May 2014
my inner demon tells me,
that if doesn't want me to die.

my inner demon is not a friend,
it enjoys seeing me suffer.

my inner demon laughs in joy,
at the cuts and scars I have.

my inner demon pulls me back and forth,
the cliff of misery.

my inner demon smiles in amusement,
when the people I know leave me.

my inner demon pour alcohol on my wounds,
when I'm crying.

my inner demon consumes me entirely,
and I to surrender to it.

my inner demon holds me captive,
and I to to be inflicted of pain for it's happiness.
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