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Laura Yuri Mar 4
I can't help comparing myself to others
He scored higher than me
She ran farther than I did
She has more friends
He had a better solo
She is more attractive
He isn't socially awkward
The one comparison I despise the most
Is that she won your heart
Not me
Xallan Feb 13
my hands are round instead of flat, now if only
my thoughts were stored in my hands
my brains and some motor control
some real talent besides empty words
my hands are similar enough to my mind

my thinking has become soft and flabby
my digits do the same wrong movements
I refrain from stretching out for what I want
my skin is so delicate I fear I may tear it
my cells liable to break under slight duress

my fingers small and deformed, clumsy
always falling short when I reach for the bar
my fingertips live in a numb icy nether
my circulation is clearly beyond subpar
my heartbeat second-rate and slowing

I wonder why my immense sky is so limiting
my body is my graven image I dare not pray to
my manifestation of an inferior mind
my burning bush is barely a flicker
as time oxidizes my single lonely existence
Xallan Jan 11
Go hard, or go home, right?
I'd rather cut off my hands at the wrists
Than make a little incision.
No temptation to take a blade to my throat,
Then, because I wouldn't have any hands,
Just bleeding stumps, see?
No hands, no grip,
No blood, no life.
Nothing but a pitiful excuse for a body
Without life. With severed hands,
And nothing to serve with
But glances of pity and sob stories
To warn your children not to be like me.
Useless excuse for a person
Who handicapped themselves!
It's so ridiculously ******, it's downright comical.
The men who freed themselves will
Laugh their little heads off at this.
They might take a look
At the space that their hands compose so
And perhaps wonder empathetically
What might drive me to discard so many
Perfectly designed atoms designed subpar.
Maybe a brighter one will realize
The truth- it's psychological
No hands, no touch
No touch, no feel.
ren Jan 9
i hide them–
hide my feelings that is,
i don’t let them loose,
afraid of what they’d say
or how they’ll look at me
but they already look down on me,
already talk bad about me
so what does it matter?
why won’t i let it out?
i wish i could scream and shout
but they’re trapped,
trapped in my head
with no key to let them free–
all they want is out
but i have to keep telling them,
no, out is not where you belong.
Brynn S Nov 2018
The roaches on my doorstep
They show nights of neglect
Follow me to darkness for I’ve not yet wept
Sweep me under doormats and follow path
The untimely death was apart of the wrath
Breaching the veil I’ve not yet pushed through
Legs start to quiver at those thoughts of you
Will I be met by the moon
Or shall she lay dormant
Whispering to stars of my utter torment
Clawing at life she has found her strife
Not until mourning will I be cut by son’s knife
Whisked away the smokes of today
Unable to lay safely in the bed I have made
Clothed in mindfulness
I shriek at joy
Just another game; and I am the toy
Rose Oct 2018
You hear my words as they roll off my tongue,
Forgotten tomorrow,
Remembered never.

I hear yours,
Remembered tomorrow,
Forgotten never.

I see that sometimes my passion deceives,
But all I want,
is to voice it.

I’ve felt such sadness
it crushes,
I’ve felt such loneliness
it breaks,
But still you do not hear me.

What can I say to make this voice even louder

I know the color of death
As fresh as an hour,
Washed gone with a load of clothes,
Faded like paper.

I know the sticky fingers of a mans and how it lingers,
Like salt on your skin,
Sugar under your nails

I know the cold floor of a bathroom
So cold it reaches into my soul
Grabs hold of every last breath
As I try to call out to you.

I could scream at you I feel so lost.
I could rip out my heart,
that’s how little I feel it
As you talk down to me.
May 30th, you *******. The day I finally saw myself clearly and you as the ******* you are. I don't think you will ever produce something worth while, for you do not have anything important to say, and the way to say it.
Hannah thomas Sep 2018
"You have her smile"
"you look the same
but you're so different"

Hollow me out
Scoop me into
A shell of my sister

sliding into shoes
I am both too small
and too quiet to fill

Meek mouse playing house
In the home
Of a lion

Always a reflection
Never the real thing
Always just a copy

A two dimensional figure
Of a figure that I
Can never become

We are so different
Contrasting opposites

As in everything
That she ever was
Is unobtainable to me

Steadfast lighthouse
And I am the shadow
The sun casts behind it

So when I stare
Into that mirror
All I've ever seen

Was a reflection
Of a reflection

Looking back at me
i will never be her.
Anya Sep 2018
That elusive quality
Essential for success
Seemingly in everyone
Except you
I wonder...should I change the ‘you’ to ‘me’?
megan Aug 2018
i was blue but You wanted red,
i felt it in everything You left unsaid.
You said You loved my icy glow,
but You prefer her rosy manifesto.
you can me let go, you can rebuff,
i understand i’m not good enough.
At times I listen and hope for something new
At times I dream of the skies glistening and I'm thinking
And when i think, my consciousness goes wild with possibilities and fantasies
Some I wish so much can be true
But none of which will ever be when I'm with you
You're a constriction, you hold me back
Oh the possibilities and experiences that I lack
I would be much different, more spirited, and able to *****
To be able to ***** from a constraint holding me back, to ***** from a shell that has constantly been the persona I take and a constraint of what I'm supposed to do or who I'm supposed to be, but the constraint makes reality feel like ****
To be expected to have to do whatever and follow expectations at a ring of a bell, I am not my own person because I lack the decision to decide
I'm along for someone else's ride and I can do nothing but abide and let the constraints take over and hide
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