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kain Aug 2019
****** teeth
Dripping in the sink
Watching all that pain
Drain away
So perfectly
Summer sun
Lights up my white
Tattoos
Putting pins and needles
Up and down my spine
Painting out
My chalk outline
I don’t remember
living without these tools.
life without sharpness—
well, it was dull.
I don’t remember
these bedroom walls with no secrets
those dresser drawers with no loose screws
this old mattress with no bandage stock.
when I was younger,
the guilt used to rise in my throat
like a meal that didn’t agree with me,
and the only thing that helped me swallow it
was turning the picture frames
so all of those smiling eyes
wouldn’t look so sad.
I should have let it turn my stomach instead.
but now I’m older
and my hands are shaking
because the guilt doesn’t make me sick like it used to,
and my only sanity is the very thing I lie about.
but here I am,
with nothing in my hands
no secrets on my sleeve
no lies on my lips
no blood on my fingers
and storm it all, let me see these as good things;
let me remember the childhood distaste for pain
let me be human once again.
just let me look at how far I’ve come
and smile
one step at a time
f Aug 2019
addicted to clon
addicted to nicotine
addicted to flexeril
addicted to you
addicted to self harm
addicted to restricting
addicted to being intoxicated
8 - 22 - 19
Carl D'Souza Aug 2019
Is hate
the opposite of compassion?
Is hate
the motivation to malevolence
instead of caring
for the joy and happiness of others?
Is hate
the motivation to harm
instead of helping
others to be joyful and happy?

Does hating others
stress me,
traumatise me,
and make me unhappy?
Yes it does.
Therefore,
should I avoid
hating others
to increase my joy and happiness?
Yes I should.

Does hating another
make the target of hate
unhappy?
Yes it does.
Therefore,
is a society
in which some people hate
other people
an unhappy society?
Yes it is.

In a joy-and-happiness-society
should every person avoid
hating others
to increase joy and happiness
for themself
and everyone in society?

In a joy-and-happiness-society
should people who disagree
retain compassion for each other?
Artemis Aug 2019
some moments,
i find myself feeling so
hopeless
that i am forced to decide
whether or not life
is worth living for
David Hasselblad Aug 2019
Eaten Alive by Nothing

Surrounded yet alone,
Wasteland of desperation and despair,
Reaping rotting fruit, bloats, gnats, flyblown,
Longing, loneliness is never fair,

Lanterns and candle light to keep you warm,
Dancing shadows morph to devils,
Slitting despair bleeding, breeding ticks that swarm,
They feed and breed into hungry weevils,

Burrowing through chest to feed on carrion of rotting heart,
Also feeding on air from lung,
Heart along in solitude from ventricles shredded apart,
Alienating through truth, be still my lashing tongue,

Friends are always around,
Right until you need,
A lost letter of emotion sent outbound,
Lost but never found, devils take the lead,

Numb, in slowly boiling water like a frog,
Past scars of trauma a curse,
Can only feel so much before a clog,
Until you become cold, psychotic, or worse.

Break out the old smokescreen mask,
Smoke, laugh and smile,
Survivals your only task,
Foot in front of foot until your first mile,

Decaying down to skin and bone,
Each mile a greater distance,
Always harder when you’re alone,
Exhausted, running from the devils persistence,

Until a day you want to be alone
Quarantining spread this plagues fate of hate,
Feeling like happiness is just a loan,
Someone finally listens, too little, too late,

You hug your dark cloud,
With a thirst water doesn’t sate,
Ears covered, anxiety so, so loud,
Take a shot, a smoke, anything to placate,

An infested body no one wants close,
Insect army of traumas and abuses,
Each growing into a lethal dose,
At least for now, I still have my uses,
Why am I so tight?
I don’t know.
Perhaps I am afraid of stepping on landmines
everywhere that I go;
perhaps I am afraid of the warzone
that lives inside the same walls that I do;
perhaps I am afraid of the nightmares
that visit every time I close my eyes;
perhaps
I am simply
afraid.
But it doesn’t make sense—
this fear that has stitched itself
into the seams of my soul
and whose whisper is louder
than even the slammed doors
of my battlefield house.
I was always taught
that the darkness of my bedroom
was never something to be afraid of,
and the monsters respected this
until age nineteen and one painkiller too many.
I was always taught
that wise friends were good friends,
and good friends were trusted friends—
but the first time I trusted my secrets to one,
my parents punished in blind offense
that it was not them
who were trusted.
Why am I so tight?
Perhaps I’ve learned that the more you open your mouth,
the more you regret it;
perhaps I’ve learned that the safest secret keeper
is your own heart and soul;
perhaps I’ve learned that watching your skin bleed
is the most calming medication there is;
perhaps
I do not consider myself
a friend.
Words must be weighed
before they meet any outside ear,
and if the inner heart does not wish to weigh them,
they will remain unknown.
So for as long as I am
afraid of myself,
I will not know myself—
and neither will any other soul.
am I still someone you want to know, friend?
kain Aug 2019
This is selfish
And I know
I know
I always do
But that doesn't stop me
From self absorbed thoughts
Then panicking
When I notice
Then slicing open
My thighs
Bleeding out
My lies
It's such a vicious cycle
And it's only
The start
I won't say
That I'm not ashamed
Of the things I've done
Of the person
I've become
But I also can't say
That I didn't want this
That I didn't
Ask for this
Because I did
And I deserve it
I don't remember a time
When things weren't wrong
It's the subtleties
The little things
I looked up
On my first phone
The pinching
The picking
The restricting
I was only eleven then
I made friends
I shouldn't have
I opened my arms
To the whole world
And it rushed in
Too fast
I wasn't ready
I know that now
But I asked for it
And I can't change
The past
The first time
My mother told me
She was worried
I wondered why
I was always
The one who worried
The one who noticed
The anguished faces
Who pressed her ear
To the bathroom door
And heard the muttered
Conversations
About things
And how they go wrong
And always
It seemed
I was the heart of it all
So I was scared
I wanted to change
I haven't known a day
Without shame
In at least five years now
That's an awfully
Long time
To survive
In the wild
Menacing darkness
Just a child
A babe in the woods
How would you feel
If that babe knew
About the monsters
The creatures of the deep
All the bad things
That most people
Run from
And she took them
With a scream
That was me
I was lost
I still am
To some degree
There are scars
That will never fade
But it was all
For a rush
That highlight
Starstruck
Moonlit night
When I cried
For so long
Because I couldn't have him
Or her
Or them
Or anyone
In particular
And it all climaxed
Again and again
There doesn't seem
To be an end
Just more walls
In my twisting maze
Every time
I see a light
It turns out
It's just a phase
An illusion
A ghost
Of something I never had
Maybe if she hadn't died
Maybe if they'd never fought
Maybe if I'd been a
Better child
None of this
Would've happened
There must be
Another world
Where I find happiness
But that's not mine
That's not me
I'm the timeline
That everyone is glad
They don't belong to
I'm the mess
The perfect tragedy
My parents
What do they even
Think of me
I can imagine that
Hospital fees
Add up pretty quick
And with all that I've done
I'm not worth
What I cost
I'm just a mess
A disaster of a girl
I was never meant to be born
But he died
Instead
And here I am
Dying for the light
But unwilling
To venture out
I guess I'm
Sick and twisted
In a number of ways
But more than anything
I'm scared
And I'm not enough
I'm not skinny
Like I was
I can barely show
My face in public
I can't wear shorts
Except around the house
And I hate myself
So much
Most of the time
That dying often seems
Like the only answer
I'll never stop coming back to
So yeah
My depression
So big and ugly
I'm unable
To untangle
Its reflection from mine
We're so
Intertwined
I've been here for so long
It's grown around me
It's a dying tree
And I am dying with it
To anyone who has made it this far: thank you. This is barely a poem, more like some catharsis I've needed for a while. If you read that all... thank you. Thank you. You know more than everyone, pretty much. Thank you for listening. You don't have to give me a single thought. Just knowing that you've heard, and you've seen what I've done, and I'm still alive despite a witness to the **** I've created and destroyed... that is enough. It's worth more than any comment or like or repost. Don't worry about those things. If anyone gets this far, you've done enough.
bess Aug 2019
i'm clean, i tell them
they smile
they tell me they're proud
they tell me that i'm a fighter

but when i say i'm clean
it implies that the rest of me has always been
*****

that the girl with faded scars
and an empty heart
and a full head
was filthy
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