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Calista Holden Nov 2017
i hope one day, someone slices your fingers.
        madolins them like
and they cut through your Bones,
and don't stop till your hands are
just big Knobby wrists on
Deisphorios Jan 2017
I laugh all the time
and I smile with glee,
but my heart never feels truly open and free.
I may look happy, and most times I am,
but I can never forget the sinking feeling within my heart.
It's all inside my head,
the thoughts and the memories
It's a mental issue,
is the only conclusion I have...
No matter how happy I think I am,
i realize that my heart doesn't feel the same

Despite that,
I'm glad I built my walls too high,
too thick to penetrate
Because I don't want my friends to see that,
i don't want to let them know,
what is constantly on my mind...

I've heard people say that I'm as simple as a book,
that my walls are no more than a pitiful snow fort,
and I almost laugh
because they couldn't be more wrong

If my walls were so thin and so meek as to melt under
the heat of the sun,
I would have been figured out long ago

I feel that I am no longer able to carry my own weight
whether it's the weight of my responsibilities or just myself,
i'll never know
I eat slower, much less than what I used too,
finally becoming conscious of that weight
Maybe even trying to lift my physical burden,
in hopes that it will relieve my mental one

I have yet to find answers for myself,
in the **** storm of my head
Is it a real, mental problem?
Perhaps a phase of the teenage mind?
Or am I just... looking for attention...?
i was awoken from a spooky nightmare and wrote this really quick so its probably ****, i might change stuff later
Amour de Monet May 2014
Did I tell you?

I’m kind of quiet… no, really, I am. You should see me around people I don’t know…. Ha, yes, I know you don’t believe me… I talk my socks off around you. But, you’re different. You already know the contents of me… I mean, you may not have read every page in detail, but you get the rough draft. Not many people get that. Man, what a stuck up ***** they say… Miss goody two shoes is too good for us… Not all of us are rich like you they say. Oh, how I wish I was any of those things…it wouldn’t sting when they mistook me for anything but the plains, but instead they see skylines and frosted mountains. I am not as complex, I am not as breathtaking, I am not such a climb. It’s funny. i have it together - it appears from the outside looking in. On the inside, I’m so tired. I know you know this - but they don’t. They don’t see 14 hour days, 98 hour weeks, 5,784 hour years… of on the go, here you can have my time, my peace, my arms, my legs, my soul. They don’t see that. They don’t see me helping the family when they need food that week..and me not eating. They don’t see my sore back, my restless nights, or the loneliness that follows endless hours. I’m the one missing out… and they think I am better than them. If they only knew how much I wished I could be more like them and less like me…. how they are the morning skies… and I am merely a spectacle to their bold colors. They’re outspoken, care free, sociable, …extroverted. I wouldn’t dare say a word. I know even then they wouldn’t get me… not like you do. I just sit back - quietly, watching, listening, absorbing…an abused sponge from one too many passes on the burnt pan. Ha, that’s me. Still giving my all - in whatever pieces are left of me, trying to shine the world. Silly I am. I’m ready to get out of here… or find myself again, and stop smothering my heart. It’s an out of control fire and my day to day has become the dirt. I think if I exhale in a week you may just see smoke pouring from my lungs… I’m burning out. Can you tell?

— The End —