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Tanya Louise Sep 25
'Here lies that sad girl and her scars'
Those words hovered over my head.
I giggled slightly,
Sick to my stomach.
Lumps upon lumps form in my throat.
As I welcome euphoria, my friend!

'Here lies that sad girl and her scars'
Sick thoughts, don't you think?
Oh! What do you care!
I'm falling in a blink.

At that moment,
I remembered the girl,
With big eyes and concern on her face.

What's that on your arm?

                  mind your ******* business

Oh it's nothing…


I was just drawing on my hand with a really sharp (razor) pen and I didn't notice…

Oh wow that's so weird

                                       You have no idea

I wonder if she saw the words on my arm…
Ha! Yes! You guessed it!
As cheesy I can be,
'HELP ME' was carved, quite boldy on my skin.

The girl made me me think...
Why won't you STOP?

So here I lay,
Dipped in ink,
Stripped and bleak.
Worried my shirt might get ruined, ****!

'Here lies that sad girl and her scars'
Watch her as she shivers.
Her friend has gone away.
Who is here to stay?
I'm sorry if this post triggered anyone. I've had a lot to deal with lately.
Self harm is a serious problem that real people deal with everyday.

If you're you do this and you want to stop, please get professional help by calling Self harm hotlines in your country.
Kassey Jul 22
I see them, human being
I hear them, all breathing
I spoke to them, they all lying
Their mouth speak *******
I wish my name wasn't mention
But now I am on their intention
They follow me in my deep dark forest
Dig a hole inside a shallow heart
Back in reality, where
they can't see clearly
Telling my name, creating dross issues
I remained silent, listening to trashes
Why they don't focus on themselves
Instead of diving in life of others?
They talk about me , meddling my private life and they tell me hurtful words on my back
Poetic T Jun 16
Woeful of the memories,
              was I to blame!

Could I have changed that moment?

When he walked out of our timeline.

Altered futures of what would have been
                 happy moments.

   But he was vacant like a parked car paying
                         for a spot never ever filled.
Still we waited on the clock before the pennies
                           ran out and then...

Tickets of denial, that he was there for us..
    he threw pennies at the lap of our mother.

She cried inside ever strong...

We were young of innocence, thinking he was
      there for us. But she was the guild that
                   caressed every fall,
                          every awkward question.

Denial was a strong venture for boys,
     that  thought the sun shone brightly.

In reality it was like the northern hemisphere
                   frozen for a time then thawed.

In reality, there was an absence of reconciliation.
        daydreaming of perfection.  
                                                   ­  never realising...
That one took the personification of both.
             And we gazed upon her as a not worthy.

But she brought us up in the wordless motion,
         of abandonment, not wanting us to see the reality..

That our Dad was as worthless as the pennies he
         threw in discord,
                                                 thinking that the copper
stepping stones were of worth to feed  and put cloth on us.

She was the one that played the part of both.
      gone is her words of wisdom..

But still her learning lives on..

                   We love you mother & Dad..

But realistically   she was both, and when she passed..

          She wasn't  a loss of a singular person but
                   one that filled the footsteps of both..

Mum we miss you... every one that wasn't filled
      not one footstep,
                           but one that filled both.
danna22081 Jun 5
It might be said:

I would love to speak to you,
To read your state of mind,
To understand your hue
Of shades which seem to shape,
Which seem to mould your own sense of self.

Speak to me!
Enlighten me... tell me...
Why you seem to have denoted
Your form of communication with me,
When everyone else seems to be understating this perpetuating perception.

For I consist of eyes
Which strenuously stretch to the very depths
Of people’s lives.
The very details,
Which undoubtedly entail the ****** within their narratives of life.

The emotionally-driven sector of my brain
Prohibits me from detaching my attention,
From the issue upon the boat which sails...
Within a stormy sea of tenacious tides...
And waves which withhold my bail, and enlightenment.
I have written this poem as a psychological response to a particular issue in which I am not very much involved, however engaging in, myself. Forgive me if the poem is too vague.
mjad Apr 9
I don't know if you want to be more than beneficial friends
I don't really want to pretend
I've been told you just want to hit
But I don't think I'd mind if you missed
I used to never go with it
Sometimes I wish I could go back again
I never imagined it as a kid
That I'd go through a *** phase and regret what I did
And subsequently, I'd be bringing bad boys with
Ones I thought I would marry and then we'd get rich
Everything has changed, I am not the same
Now you probably think I'm telling a myth
I cannot tell you a reason for this
Summer is bringing temptations
Maybe I'm selfish and just want ****
Remembering all the times I spent in boys' basements

I know that's not what I want
Wish I could be what you need
But I can't see through all of your fronts
I don't know what you're trying to be
I do not think that there would be a problem with us
I just think there is a problem with me
I don't know if I can handle guessing anymore
I'm not the go-to *** anymore

I'm not sure what you want to be
But I'm not what you think
This is way more emotional than I thought I would be
I'm not what I introduced myself to be
I promised myself to be honest with you
And I want to do this with more integrity
Can't help but think that I'm being played
If that's the case then just tell me
I am always prepared for the truth
I'm telling myself your friends are right
But should I trust your friends more than you

Now my heart is stuck in the grayest of areas
Thinking back to when your friends said not to trust you
Remembering when they warned me not to
Thinking about how we might go to a party
And I will be there confused about what to do
I still take heed at the first words about you
And I do not think there is a way of preparing us
For the inevitable or so it seems
When you get a job and I chase a college dream
Eventually, you'll find a girl much more pretty
Someone that's better that I could never be
You're a guy with smarts and muscles
I don't smoke much and I don't drink much liquor
I want to know what you want, but you telling me I don't figure
You'll find a better girl, like the one you are talking too
Who's body and conversation is probably better

I should be getting myself focused again
Sometimes it feels like I don't really know
I know that we started as beneficial friends
But that type of bond has room to grow
But I don't want to pretend
I don't know if I'd have the emotional control
I don't know if I can handle guessing anymore
I don't know if I can be that go-to *** anymore
Riiyyaa Mar 15
Live wouldn't exist
If she didn't exist
The pain is wears
Is worst than the death you fear

Yet she was treated
Like that bags beaten
The way it pleases the man
The man unknown by the women

Boys go shirtless on the beach
But she can't even wear shorts in peace
Boys go with swimsuits on
And she can't even go with an one piece on

She is the one
Who will bring live to your son
But you treat her like crap
And she will put future live at stake  

A women she is
With the power to rejoice .
The stronger than the strong
With your key to the world
Oskar Erikson Mar 14
Speak the words
you let lie in your throat,
the spiteful synonyms
these cruel anecdotes.
Trap me with a ***** look
you cast my way,
let your insults hook
all of my willingness to stay.
Inevitably you can find
another reason to say nothing,
yet I can only remain to be kind
for the sake of merely having something.
Holding onto this pain
for all the fear of being alone again.
Can’t you see
It’s not you who is the issue
It’s me
Ash Jan 26
Humanity is simplistic contrary to the complex, misunderstood, myriad of separately analyzed individuals that psychologists, artists, poets, and scientists paint it to be. Each person is labeled with a different disorder founded by their apparently personal past tragedies and harbors the wholehearted, mistaken, belief that they are alone in their “tragedy” which is indeed not tragedy but a side effect to the human condition, and arguably, to the optimist,  one of life’s sacred milestones. Humanity likes to romanticize these milestones. They dress up their societal deemed shameful past with cashmere sweaters, line their lips with the grief of loss, and sweep their eyes with trust issue mascara all in an effort to pronounce themselves worthy and prove themselves beautiful despite their “unique” past events and tragic flaws. But they are not unique. When you peel off the pearls, when you delete the username, when you strip away the added flair to each sad story, humanity is all the same. They all front loss of some sort, they’ve all battled insecurity, they’ve all woken up one day perhaps wishing they hadn’t woken up at all. They’ve all laughed, cried, chased after the fleeting ideal of love, and questioned its palpability. They’ve each found themselves in a situation that made them ponder their ability to ever trust again, if they could ever love again, if they could ever be the same again; but what they don’t realize is that they are all the same. Rough the personal and each person is the same, just with a different name. Step back and behold, these seemingly individual fallacies of the human condition all spin together to weave a simplistically complex web.
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