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ana laag Mar 2019
You crashed my spirit in your hands.
Crampled it like a sheet of paper.
You leave my soul with cracks.
I'm broken and you didn't bother.
You trampled on my feelings,
I get caught up in your maze of madness.
The wounds that you left stings,
Leaving me with no senses.
You left me in despair.
And I suffer alone.
Axel Mar 2019
She's smoking a cigar that is barely able to burn,
She's tasting the bitter pain of the dark yet a glimpse of sweet in a short and dangerous cigar with a hope that the tables are gonna turn in a second.

She coughed a dark raspy voice with a scent of alcohol in her mouth that he kissed with love and lust,but the leaves fall and so do her,and so do him.

She thought the devil was an angel
dressed in a daydream with a fairytale wedding and a fairytale ending; while she was gone
and and while she was still strong,
a storm with a raging thunder and a raging anger in him started to grow like a tree at the park beneath his feet; a tree that no one expected,a tree that no one felt and a tree that no one can feel.

He then began to cry with his hands in the stars,
starting to realize that what he did all this long was so wrong.He's sorry for any words and times that he never said and never there; he's sorry for not facing the consequences,and he's very sorry for thinking that she and him will end in a happy ending, will end with a 'happy ever after' like all the stories did,like all the people did.

She was confused,she was in a loose,she was in her bed and very scared.She was holding a dead bouquet of flowers from last week; a bouquet that had 99 roses that meant the days of their relationship and the days before he really decided to jump into his illusion and breathed into the final second before he took the razor and jumped into conclusion.

Now she understood,now she realized and now she knows that if they never met,if they never loved,if they never danced and if they never took a glance, things would've been better and he'll write her letters but that would be a knife-point to him because all he wanted was a guy, all he wanted was to be with his lovely bright sunshine.

Now it has been a year,it has been the darkest hours to her and it has been the saddest while everyone is living in a great and a wonderful lovely world while the sorrow and the arrow from the bow keeps stabbing her and and she always wish that her lucky stars will always be there and will always stand there with open arms that will always take care.
please love someone that you really really love and someone that you really really want.
Floor Mar 2019
And I find it so hard to search for words to say
That my sanity went down the drain
Like the leftover soap seeping off my hair
It stings my eyes and turns me blind
The monster picks the moment like a greedy child picking a flower
It closes my throat so oxygen is a word I can't remember anymore
Thoughts drip down my body and I find myself drowning in the condensed walls of my mind
With damp fingers I try to reach for a strategy
But I seem to have lost my sanity
Merinda Mar 2019
Drowning in a glass of juice
The madness in me is ready to push
Insanity stay in focus
Burning up inside and holding on to something to lose
Drinking emotions i'll never choose
Swiping up the ocean of lotus
Looking for a smile to boost
L Thor Pedersen Mar 2019
so close within your eyes..
resides the world's most scintillant light..
when you cry...the stars WEEP and release symphonies that cascade from the skies,
azure temples intimately disguised,
yet in the dark your heart falls apart and calls out my name,
every day i think of you, as my soul grows cold and old..i struggle 2 control the pain..
Its odd..
the facade.. that the'world in all it's awe
performs so worn'from the applause relentlessly,
Nothing MUST be..
we're born and formed to be flawed,
created cracked and clawed
from earthly debris,
Misanthropic melodies, manifolds of madness never before heard-confessed and conveyed
Expressed and displayed-through violent variation of words,
I await..
and in silence observe,
Confounded and disturbed.
Not sure what it means..but there it is.
Sammy Mar 2019
in the moment before the sun rises,
the soft, warm glow creeping onto your face,
quiet Whispers float around my ears.
Whispers of love, hate, and that which is in between.
i wonder aloud,
"are we In Between? where do we fall?"
you take my cold hands in yours, and,
bathed in the golden honey light as we are,
you tell me that we are In Between.
but, you add, you're right where you need to be.
where else would you go?
when you stop and think, where is
In Between?
there's always a high and low,
big and small,
light and dark.
no matter where you are,
you're always In Between two.
now, you Whisper as you fade away,
dream away those dreams of perfection.
I'll always be here.
first poem y'all, not that great but that's what practice is for
Mihle Mdashe Mar 2019
We have skin as muddy as waters. Vaginas smelling of blood, unwanted babies and 400 years of forced entries. That's all we have in common. What I have is sickness in the mind. Many people say depression is the emperor of many mentalities; some say it turns your mind into this forbidden city, giving you 8000 sorts of depressing feelings like no will ever love you, just go they won’t even notice you’re gone. They call it depression dynasty. They give depression so much prestige and many of them romantizes depression. But do they really know what it is? It's all watered down into something antidepressant can tone down but pills can't help all the attacks that come from different angles. Laughter turns into tears cause you can't help but hear that little voice "You're not happy", so I'd rather sit in my bedroom and write. Oh wait I've lost that skill now, thanks to my anxiety that is. That's depressions' cousin, depression felt the need to invite him over. Funny how life goes. I thought I'd abort this poetry thing,when all the pain tones down creativity seems to find a new abode. Failed poet I call myself, I can't use high metaphors, fail to express all these emotions so what's the use. I seem to fail at everything I do. I'm trying not to waste my time, but this is what I want to do. The demons come as a sequence of powerful leaders and I just can't sit here and let them dictate to me.
A poem of what it's been like having to live with depression.
Floor Mar 2019
I want to tear my skin apart
I want to rip the pieces of my body off my soul and create something beautiful
I want to feel seeping wounds close up and I want to feel the tightness of them healing
I want my bones to snap like sticks
And my teeth to break like bricks
I want the taste of life on my tongue when the pain numbs my body

I want to feel
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2019
Trust, the madness
Doubt, the normality
Translate, the silence
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Everyday Wisdom
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