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Chiibe-The-Rebel Oct 2015
Anyone,
Can make poetry.
But it takes a soul,
To make a poet's dreams.

Through darkest nights,
and gloomy days.
Thou shall send me,
On my way.

In the slump
Of the dread
Of the mist
That's filling my head

I wish I could be the optimist,
Happy and care-free
Trying to miss
I've changed, not in a good way.

Do you see me,
Outside the Library.
Or in the School halls?
Do i carry a knife, To add to my strife.

Try to splat my blood on the walls,
Do i look like,
A suicidal freak?
Or am I suddenly, just very meek?

Kids in our day and age,
Immature and Happy faze.
Shouting " Not fair "
To a week-off social media.

Am i one to seem?
To scrape the knife
Over my skin,
To make me bleed?

Do I look like
Someone who loves
Sight of blood
Taste and shroud.

Appearances are deceiving
To my make-believing,
That everything will be alright.
Cut my tongue, taste the blood.

I worship my knife.
It smells like my blood,
Tastes like it too.
Love it, I do.

In the darkness, gloomy depths
If you could see my mind.
You'd see the secrets I hide.
Would you be shocked?
.... My Life.
Serenity Elliot Oct 2015
The butter started to glisten with fear
In the face of the icy saucer
In the silence the sound of the basket reciting angrily-
There was no place for an affair with
The strawberry jam.
So sickly sweet
The pleading knife resisted;
Don't make me do it

A smooth slice,
A pale & hard interior.
The shaking jug cried.
And the jam fell to the floor.
Garth Lebowski Oct 2015
The countless tears that trickled to my lips while reading your letters. Pearls thrown to swine every time I spoke my thoughts to you.  There wasn’t a day that had passed that I didn’t miserably breathe your name

Pleading for mercy you said the same words that I once spoke to you.

Now you’re gone, departed before a red right hand...

The look you gave me tonight was the look I’ve always truly wanted from you. A look of helplessness. Hopelessness. Breathlessness.  The way I always looked at you.

Now my shivering silver blade is the only friend I have left...

I  say my last goodbye to that cold permanent expression on your face. One last time.

If i can't have you my dearest, no one can
Never had a boyfriend...this is probably why...
Mary Alexander Oct 2015
Running through the parking lot
I keep racing.  
I can't stop.

Slowly I'm collapsing.
The blood runs down my arm.
I scream. I laugh.
My spirit isn't alarmed.

My hair is askew
My laughter fills the air.
After all I've been through,
I'm glad that he's not there.

But soon a shadow approaches.
I glance down at my stained hand.
I try to run, but he grabs my shoulders, I am not strong enough to stand.  

He holds my arm and looks at me
As tears run down his face.
"What the hell were you thinking?
You could never be replaced."

My laughter was gone
As soon as his tears escaped.
And so, as he holds me tightly,
I stare down at my knife
Now a foreign shape.

I pull free and throw it
As far as I can manage.
I take a deep breath in
As we go to repair the damage.
Work in progress
Hailey Oct 2015
I surrender to this darkness,
that seems to be my life.
     I sink deep into this madness
that kills me like a knife.
     I withdraw from those around me
to give time to heal my heart
     For if what I've become, you were to see
we'd surely drift apart.
cait-cait Sep 2015
It's as if someone
took a knife straight through
my melted butter heart, and
smeared the blood on a piece of toast,

like the feeling of Ice in a bath,
and a foot sticking off the bed,

its as if I was made of paper
and she was the little one who
ripped me to shreds,
i'm in tears but still she can't understand;

that yea, it's not your fault,
but at the same time,
like bugs in
a trap
you have done me no favors
and I am angry,

was my love not enough for you?

i hope he breaks your heart, and
i hope he breaks it good.
*******. Meant to be read fast and angry.
Snow Wolf Sep 2015
I have no shame,
I cannot be tamed,
I cannot lie,
I will not cry,
I feel no guilt,
I shall be built,
On the principles of life
Of which this is my knife,
The end, to my strife.
Rae Harrison Sep 2015
His hands don't hurt me anymore, which is why he chooses his words more carefully
Each word melds into a knife that stabs my spine, making me shiver
He doesn't have to say he loves me and he doesn't say it either
But every word hurts me
It doesn't matter if its good or bad; his love hurts and not getting his love hurts
So when he says I miss you, my spine shudders because it should be true
But it isn't
Mila Berlioz Sep 2015
I swear it hurts
It hurts in my veins
The words that come out of your mouth
They hurt
They hurt as if a knife was stabbing me
Right in the chest

It even hurts more
That I can't even cry
I have no tears left
What is this?
I can just stare at the wall
Hoping to cry
But then my veins hurt,
I can't.

And I don't know how to handle
Your hurting words
Poetic T Sep 2015
Staring out of the window a blank stare
Radiates outwards, cold methodical
Unfeeling of what is seen.

"What do you think,

As not even a glimmer of life breathes forth
A reply, and they just stare at the film reel
Of scenery that leaves eyes behind.

"We'll be their soon, don't worry,

Head leans forward as eyes brushed closed,
Nothing is missed it wasn't the others times
When eyes stared to long now closed.

"What shall I do with you,

"I know I spy,

No answer comes back, just silent, vacant
stillness.

"Fine be like that see if I care,

Dried up roses sit on the back seat. petals
Scattered over the vacant area, others
Dyeing an old wet jacket soiled and haggard.

"May I borrow that I have some thing in my teeth,
"Don't worry Ill give it you back,

He leans over, and removes it, making an
Unpleasant squelch as if not wishing to
Let loose that which is desired.

"Look I gave you to look after,
"Not to own its mine,

With a final pull taken with force.
Picking slowly at that piece of burger stuck
Lodged in-between two teeth, them a bump.

"Holy mother of crap,
"This is your fault for not releasing it when I asked,

As blood seeps from a lip, teeth bathed in droplets
Of crimson smudged with every painful lick and
Touch of their grazed lip.

"Here have it back,
"It was mine, but now I'll... I'll...,
"Who am I kidding, not like it can do anything else,

Sitting back in the car a hanky chief held tightly
Between teeth lip and tongue. Were here now?
Don't look so shocked, as headlights glare.

"Now look I prepared it for your arrival,
"Always best to plan ahead,

A picnic sheet, is laid on the dry grass, and then
As a stiff crack is heard echoing out, from
Where rigor-mortis  has set in like stone.

"Wow maybe I drove a little too long this time,
"But you liked the views didn't you,

As the knife again pulled out of their chest,
wiped upon the sheet.  it was a cheap thing
Only good was to wrap up unwanted things

"Good as new,

Sweat drips on the ground, as the shovel
tightens the shallow graves soil,
Leaves pulled from the boot cover evenly.

"Another one rested, I do enjoy these drives,
"Next one may have to be shorter?

Getting in to the car looking at the empty seat,
Thinking of how soon another like ones
Before will sit in that seat and enjoy the ride.
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