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TyeniWrites May 25
A glance at her face is all it takes
Can ruin her entire day
Everyday she feels ugly
Slowly killing her inside
Dear God a clear skin,she begged
She just wants to feel pretty
Shell May 10
Do you not see you're just as important? What makes you think less?
Is it because of your brown hair when you wish it were blonde?
Or your hair straight rather than curly?
Your brown eyes that should be crystal blue?
All you want is to fit in. But life made you different.

Yes, you have your hourglass shape. Your small waist, and large bottom. Maybe that's what makes you most proud.
Your proud of what everyone admires most? Shouldn't you be proud of what you admire most?

But you choose to admire the bad qualities.
Your larger nose, the pointy chin you have, and the way your face scrunches when you laugh. Why must those things be ugly?
Or those embarrassing qualities you label like your laugh, the way you stand, the way you walk. Even, the voice you show.

You're beautiful because you're you. Your brown curly hair dragged down alongside your golden skin. Your honey-dipped eyes when exposed to the sun. Your dry skin that keeps your tone flat accompanied by your oily skin that gives you structure. Your laugh that triggers another laugh, which ends in endless amounts of laughing.

Love is you, you are love.
Mishka Wayz Jan 6
The drums in my ears, the galloping of horses right behind my back,
I stand looking at the murky thick fog, with the word ringing in my ears, "Attack!"
I stand still, pondering of what to do and why,
Pondering in my head, why don't I just die…

The black hooded riders gallop on their horses right behind me,
There is a legion of them, thick as smoke with no hope of being free,
Ravens screech above my head, smoke pours from my head, back and shoulders,
I want to reach out, want to give up with this feeling of me being crushed by a million boulders…

My head drums, my temples throb, my vision goes blurry and hazy,
My eyes cloud with a murky green color of insaneness, I'm going crazy,
I grab my sharp big knife, and start to stroke it absent mindly,
Meanwhile, I struggle on, with the hooded riders behind my back whle I stumble on-ward blindly…

I still have hope in my heart, as my feet carry me,
I look at the dim pale objects of people, walking happily and free,
While I… stumble in this murky thick fog, and behind me there is hooded figures with their swords,
The numbers so many of them, it's like black thick smoke, except of the figures there is hordes and hordes and hordes………

I fall on my knees, stumbling over ****** grass,
I see holy-water ahead, but the smoke atop my head tells me to pass,
Falling on my face, I give up, breathing hard and almost dead,
I give my last efforts, when a figure gallops up to me on a stallion and with it's sword just cleanly slices off my head…

The blood paints the grass, as my hand is holding the knife,
The blade is stabbed deep inside my chest, taking away my life,
My eyes go pale and my body stays motionless, in a death-like freeze,
The fog clears, the figures disappears as the smoke gets blow away by the soft gentle breeze......







~Mishka Wayz~
(The fog is caused by my thinking vision, the hooded figures are dark thoughts and wishes, the smoke above my head is my depressions, the Holy water is a friend who will really care about me, the boulders are the bad things that I remember I did in the past, and the Ravens are tauntings from my low-self esteem self)
Amanda Dec 2019
What is so wrong with me?
Why am I misunderstood?
Seems like all I ever cause is harm
I just want to do good

I push away from me
Asking myself why
Have become so hard to love
Own heart dares not try

Growing up many times was told
I should always be myself
Those same people tried
Sculpting me into someone else

By now realized I'll never
Be good enough that is clear to see
How could I ever be enough for the planet?
I'm not enough for me
Feedback?
opi Mar 2019
is brighter;
i can't shine. i don't have the sun with me.
is more petite;
my stem is too large. i can't seem to see myself grow.
is luckier;
the rain comes and so is the rainbow. they both hate me.
is more cherished;
my leaves would abandon me alone.
is prettier;
my petals are dull. ripped. hideous.
is more loved;
something i wish i could feel everyday.
stop comparing myself with the others is like breathing under water.
Isabel Jan 2019
I normally stay quiet for I'm too afraid to speak.
I’m afraid I’ll say something that I regret.
I’m afraid I’ll say something that makes them hate me.
But sometimes I can’t help myself.
I try to fit in and speak my mind.
But I regret ever opening my mouth.
I think that what I said was wrong.
And I think they hate me for even existing.
I will mull over it for weeks wondering why.
Why did I think that I could talk?
Why did I think that I could fit in?
And then I can’t make the questions stop.
Why do they hang out with me?
Why do they pretend to like me?
Why can’t I be a better friend?
Why can’t you be someone people like?
And when my mind lets me forget I do it again.
I make the mistake of opening my mouth
Or something brings back the memory of my mistakes
The thoughts that my mistake made.
And the whole process repeats.
And the whole process never stops.
opi Nov 2018
they said no one cares
unless you're pretty or dying
but the term "pretty" can't seem
to be worn by my face
it's not fit for my body since
it's either too loose or too narrow
but how does everyone seem to wear it glamorously?
so i decided to hurt myself
to suffocate myself
to drown myself
it's my last and only option
but they just stand there and watch me
as i go deeper and deeper
in a sea full of suffer and gloom
i know my body, my face, and i
can't own the term "pretty"
so dying is my only choice
and yet they just walk away after i faded in darkness
i thought they said choose one
and i'll be visible?
so i chose one and it's not being pretty
i chose one
and am now yelling for my visibility
but they don't hear my cry
what kind of dying
do they want me to?
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