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Oliver Mar 2020
I don’t like feeling things.
I dream of happiness, and I feel.
My heart aches for what could be,
what will never be.
I see people, far away
and the isolation creeps up my neck.
The loneliness is suffocating me.
I want to stop feeling things.
I look into a pair of pretty eyes
and receive a smile in return.
Hope reaches its burning tendrils
into the depths of my soul.
It starts crushing and squeezing.
Hoping for the impossible hurts.
Everything hurts.
I don’t want to feel.
Andrew Watson Mar 2020
hold me
in the dead of night
when no one else will

wear me
a rusted red bangle
choke my freedom

spare me
when angels are around
consume me when
they fly

float from
the mouths of those
who say they
love me

i trust no other voice
but your shrieking
whisper

they tell me they
love me
they tell me
you tell me
tell me
love me
a poem about needing constant reassurance - and how loneliness can make you doubt the legitimacy of even those who love you the most
Tess M Apr 2020
why do i feel so sad?
nothing happened
least not really
but i am wrong
i am always wrong

that is what
they said

I believed them
Michaela Ferris Jan 2020
I can feel the darkness, beckoning me to jump,
Allowing it to envelop me in its cold winged, empty abyss.
A hollow, rigid weight pressing down upon my chest,
getting heavier and heavier, pushing me deeper to despair
until it crushes my lungs, allowing for no air to be gained.

I can feel the terror enticing me to play a game of Russian roulette.
Any minute now may be my last.
An empty coffin, surrounded by mourning faces of those that once turned their backs,
pleading that I had just spoken, but when I did they ran away,
telling me that the burden I have always carried, was mine to bare alone.

I can hear the last beckoning words of my once happy dreams,
'just hold on, it won't be this dark forever';
but then I remember that it is not the dark that I am afraid of, and maybe that is the problem.
I am afraid of the emptiness that unfurls before me,
leaving me alone to battel these faceless monsters that are too powerful to ever be beaten.

I can feel the cold, darkness enticing me to lie down and give in,
enveloping me in my last shred of sanity
before the darkness takes me up in it's hollowed out pity,
laughing in my face about the weak, feeble character I have become.
Broken and bruised by a world that could not see the damage it had caused a child;
offering only cold shoulders of the night to lay my head upon.
kiara milko Jan 2020
do not face the pain
hide in your abyss
cut your emotions wrists
don’t ever slip

the pain which you don’t deserve
i fight to forgive myself
please be happy
i’m sorry

my body’s a prison
the flowers that grew on my heart
now dry and dead
the the butterflies in my stomach
decayed to dust
the rainbow over my eyes
covered by rain
my brain is fried
i can’t take this pain
Clay Face Dec 2019
I claw and drool for social acknowledgement.

I’m so blind by the drive, I’m not disgusted by the animal I am and others I admire.

Degrading and defacing myself in the process.

Leave a compliment, for attention and false exchange of treatment.

I hold my phone incapable of moan.

This thing.

It doesn’t care about me.

Neither do the people on it.

My family does.

But I must find acceptance from my peers.
I have to steal their eyes and ears.
They do it, so I must too.
Throw away all my integrity, of which there is few.
Shadow Nov 2019
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written in octal code
Kosta Chiamb Nov 2019
Fresh Guatemalan coffee roasting,
the aroma sedating everyone in the café,
calmness ensues

Jovial conversations filled with sincere appreciation for the company they have
each corner of this café vibrating with positive energy
I’m watching and hearing all of this from the back of the room
my corner has a small table,
two seats and I occupy one
the empty spot mocking me

All the noise and life in this room has no effect on me
I wear my smile and drink my liquid sedative
in the middle of all this beautiful chaos I find myself detached

my reality skewed and fixated on a negative perception of my young life
the stress has convoluted my heart strings

even with happiness in the air smothering me it fails to make me feel alive
regardless of all the people in this room I feel isolated
it’s as if I bought a first class ticket into the oblivion
the cold, deserted, barren wasteland that is my mind
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