feels like
you are the weed
waiting to be
all the beautiful
I wonder when it was that we really met
was it when he first lied to me
or the time I tried to jump out the two story window at 5 years old

was it when I first felt the bugs crawl beneath my skin as you touched me
no longer sparks flying but an electrocution without the quick death

perhaps when my dad spat that he was ashamed of me
and my mum said he wanted me out of his sight
off of his site
“get off of those sites”

when I locked myself in the shed at 6
I screamed and cried
not wolf, but Rapunzel
climb up my hair, rip it out of my head and

now it is 12 years later and I don’t cry to be let out
I cry to be let gogh
and drink paint and drink paint andrink p ain’t
it silly?

if only you were looked after
I close my eyes
Taking a deep breath
Why am I here again?
Is there something important
For me to do?
Was there ever?
My body is always sore
Everyday it hurts
Why do I keep going?
I wait for my body to give up
For my time to stop
For the days to finally end
I’ve said I’m fine
But never really was
I’ve dreamt of places far away
But never really got there
Those places I want to go
To disappear
And call them home
Help me
An echoing voice in my head
A convincing smile
This is my lie
A lie no one has ever seen through
They never will
The voice responds
Help me
Another smile
Why can no one hear
No one hears
No one
Last night I sat lonely
Wishing for things that could never be
Out my window the moonlight bright on the garden stones
speaks to me

I putter to the gates
Perhaps among the rose bushes
And Lilly beds, I will find
nourishment in nature.

I sit in casted moonbeams
still wishing for things, that could never be
no solace in the garden green
just alone beneath
a midnight scene
Sometimes nature is magical and you think it will bring a peace. Sometime it does and other times not so much.
AshJ 11h
Water to drink
Food to eat
People to love
Hope to dream
Is what a being needs.

Snatch his land, his home
Turn him into a desperate varmint
crying for mercy,
wreathing for death.
I don't hate people.
I think everyone is beautiful in their own way,
No matter what they think or say
That could never be changed.

But, I guess I do hate someone
And that someone is me.
I'm not pretty,
I'm not nice,
And I can't do anything right
I have all A's, accept that one C that drives me crazy

I guess i can accept anyone,
No matter how much I disagree with them,
No matter how annoying they are,
I can't stay mad.
After all, we're all human,
So why judge?

The acceptation to my acceptance is, again, me.
Someone doesn't talk to me?
You annoying piece of shit.
I disagree?
I don't deserve human contact,
They hate me.
You're a literal piece of trash

It's funny in that way isn't it?
Even the most beautifully lit candle
Might not think it shines bright at all.

You may call that person crazy,
But you don't think for a second
That you can be wrong about yourself

Of course, I'm still not pretty,
I annoy people,
I make a fool of myself,
I hardly have any friends
I'm a huge burden
But that doesn't mean I am always right about myself
what happened to you?
that you were so afraid of messing up
these words mean nothing
and being thrown to the dust
because all these gifts and memories take nothing to the test
hyper visions of misery heightened, the wise are unknown
curses and shadows brew 'round their heads
or stars and spaceships from the planet of the undead

what happedned to you that you felt so empty yet so mad and angry?
a raging fire of something unseen, something unknown
far from your reach
they say expeirence and memories shape who we are
but i cant recall a gooddamn thing that made us who we are

what happedned that you could take that bullet to the head placing that gun inside of their hand?
a trigger, a flash, a ringing sound about
yet nothing splatters at the wall because we know once and for all
that what happened to you happened to me and no matter how much you think it might be
our names will never be graved in that stone
for one
one can only
a l o n e
Honestly just a ramble of prose...
I awoke on the floor all covered in dust
Sweat salty crust
A mixture of blood, sweat, and tears ran
And collagetlated in the sand
A distant humming and deepening groan
Of gutteral intent, from something below
And lifing my eyes all blackened and blue
Closer and closer it grew;

Standing above, puffing its chest
But seeing my eyes had outdone his best
He lifted those black boots again
Smashing my head, caving it in
Knocking my jaw out, nose detatchs thin

As the slits poured with gour
All i could say through broken bones was,
"I can take much... much more."
Natasha 16h
Instead of counting sheep,

I'm counting all of the sleepless nights

I'm alone with my bleeding heart

and aching feet.

and all of the mornings, where I

wake up and I can't breathe

where the sun streams in through my window panes

and I can't bear the stifling inferno of my own sheets.

I'm drowning inside, and I'm burning all over

and I can't stop.

I'm slowly wasting away.

I'm only breathing just to prove I can live another day.
I'm sorry I couldn't be any better than I was
Stewie 17h
sometimes, it's ok to turn off all the lights in your hotel room. you draw the curtains open and allow the twinkling lights from the tall city buildings to sprinkle your skin. an overwhelming, yet familiar feeling creeps into your soul like a slow-moving fog. ah, this is called loneliness my dear. instead of being afraid, grab the hand that loneliness embraces you with and dance. allow the passerby's among the roads below to witness a beautiful being embracing the night and proving that sometimes, it's ok to be lonely.
You can be lonely.
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