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Amaris 1h
Sitting here talking about myself
It all feels almost, well, silly
Like why would this person care
I'm just talking about me
Sure these things happened
And maybe I feel odd once in a while
I never really thought it mattered
Just hid it all behind a smile
There are lots of people like me
Or I guess; that's what I've heard
I've always just wanted to be average
Disguise wrong feelings in written word
Even years after I still ask the question
How much of it all is in my head?
I think I need this help, and it's working
Though it's so terrifying, I hide in bed
Bound securely, affixed professionally
I admit the bandages feel really nice
But they're in response to waking the past
I'm not sure I'm willing to pay this price
When I hesitate, I say I want to get better
Who doesn't want their broken leg to mend?
Somehow being honest is physically painful
I almost prefer when I had to pretend
What the **** you know about getting upset?
What the **** you know about living in debt?
What the **** you know about pinning up ket?
Then wondering why you have no self respect

What the **** you know about living a dream?
What the **** you know about leaving your team?
What the **** you know about being a fiend?
This is the first time I seen you on the scene. .

What the **** you know about breathing this poverty?
What the **** you know about not eating properly?
What the **** you know about using candles to heat and light your so called property?
Five days straight eating  nothing but broccoli

Maybe it's just my own shadow that's stopping me
Got me under lock an key
But when I break free they'll be not much stopping me
The weight of the world will not get on top of me  
My grandfather already clocked you watching me
yes i'm sorry
all I wanted to fix you
to fix you
but now your broken then before
I just I wanted you to last longer
and be a little stronger
but I failed
I failed
but I will you no more
for porcelain skin is to cracked
and your dress isn't even intact
and when i step back
and place on shelf
I think of all that we've dealt with
and this toymaker
sad as i may be
have put you  away
i'm sorry
my black haired porcelain beauty
everything is
so peaceful on
this wintery day

except the storm
raging in my mind

someone help me
Malla10 13h
His tears are the lights has the sky but are as heavy as the earth its self. his fears hide who he really is. controlling his life as if he was a puppet. nothing can control the pain nothing can make it go away. so he must bottle It Up Inside shove away the pain shove away will remind him of what he doesn't whatever remember. shoving down the pain until the pain comes back and hits you. The plaque mocking Shadows that appear telling you it's all your fault telling you what you fear to hear. Those sleepless nights turn into Sleepless wait to see her of closing your eyes is all you ever think about. until you can take no more days to turn into weeks until that week where you give in in your eyes I'm going to the darkness. You are never there forever you will always find the light back. someone will always be there to hold that light that you must follow. do not listen to the Shadows to not given for they are the reason your fears are here. the Shadows are not too strong as you may think. you must use the strength that is inside you-you must tell the Shadows when enough is enough. For there will be a time where you must let go yes the Shadows make you who you are but you can't stay one person 1 old self the rest of your days. you must move on you must grow you must live the life you were meant to.  you must grab the rope and pull it down and slap the Shadows into the light you must tell them it is your time in their system. for the Shadows are now the light and you are in control.
to whom it may concern,

my name is care
and yes it hurt
yes it burned
my heart felt apart
but thats a different story
i don't want this poem to get gory
after all making this decision
deserves no glory
i don't want people to blame themselves
because my downfall was that i couldn't improve
that i couldn't give everything to you
and like i said
it hurt
so i tried being numb
and looking back on it now
it was so dumb
i popped pills and cried
i needed hope
i didn't want to die
but to whom it may concern
i wont
i'll fight
even though it hurts
even if it burns
hope you liked the insight. don't worry not suicidal. care is someone i will use a lot.. my inbox is open.
Bring me your problems,
put 'em in a basket.
I can answer your question
before you even ask it.
I can't walk on water,
I ain't from Galilee,
but baby, just have
a little faith in me.
I wished I could heal you
but for whatever reason, I couldn't
it made me feel powerless
and that kind of hurt
because you always relied on me
for protection and love
but this was no longer something
I could provide
not even to myself.

A demon had swallowed me whole
and it took me days, weeks, months even
to realise I was the demon
and I swallowed myself
I allowed my past to make me feel
I let it consume me and take over
the darkest most hidden parts of me
had become the most apparent
the evil from within had taken over
I did not remember how to love.

I would look in the mirror
the devil would smile back at me
for I was now his *****
his very hate coursed through my veins
and out of my mouth
I could not speak a word of good to another
when I saw another anyway.

For days on end I shut myself away
I slept the pain away
that is what I told myself I was doing
but it was not...
I was delaying the pain
putting it off
but that is how I survived.

But now the good is surfacing once more
and I have nobody
because they all saw the darkness
they no longer believe
I hold any light
I always have, it was just buried deep within me.

And now,
I have to learn
to love myself again.
Is it truly a prison if I'm the one trapping myself?
It is if you throw the key across the floor,
just out of reach.
I had a thought. So I turned it into a poem. Enjoy.
we are words stitched together to make a skin
while the ink is our blood
our brains?
just a bunch of cameras monitoring whats around us
in such meaningful exaggeration

we are poets
we are alive

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