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Having been referred to on multiple occasions as being “depressed”, I am offended. Every time. Having a chronically macabre state of mind and being drawn to a melancholy atmosphere and writing does not make one depressed. Or a psychopath. It does not mean a person is on a journey to being a serial killer or committing suicide. Some people, such as myself, just happen to find comfort in things deep and meaningful. While some comedy, joy, and love is to be revered and enjoyed more sparingly the sad, twisted, and horrid truths of the world can uphold a better sense of completion, joy, and love. This does not make one depressed or mentally ill but perhaps just more...... thoughtful.
GJLT Mar 3
Sturdy as a titan is the oak off in the yard
Stuck strong and deep in the mud, with the permanence of a mountain ridge
There wasn’t a force of man, nature, or God that could catch her off
her guard
Until one golden morning came to pass, which started without a hitch,
Only this time an army of tiny fellows were summoned to follow,
And there they were, a pack of carpenter ants ready for a momentous
Eagerly and with ease, turning the impenetrable oak completely and utterly hollow.
Evelyn Ann Feb 24
I hope that someday I don’t hesitate
Even if I say the truth
Even if it all ends in tears.
BreatheMe Jan 11

He loves his boy drunk,
and in the dark.
The scent of fresh spirits clinging to his tongue as he whispers his insecurities into the shadowed night.
His hands wrapped around the fragile boys arms, even though they shouldn't,

because this boy, his boy, is too bright, too precious to loosen the grip he has.
While he is made up of stolen cigarette smoke and bruised knuckled smiles, the love he has conjured up is beyond magic.

He lusts his boy sober
and dawn breaks through the curtained room.

Coffee engulfs the narrowed hallways and the creaking wooden board is the only sound heard besides soft snores.
He looks away from the paled soul, loosens his touch
and each time he gets up and leaves, he breaks both their hearts.
don't you know you can love him with the lights on too?
As the moonlight illuminates the room, I lay here awake trying to remember you
But after ten years, the image has seemed to fade
Seemingly, there is nothing left for me to view

What color are your eyes, and are they  anything like mine?
How do your lips curve, and are they ever adorn by a smile?
What is the simple shape of your face?
I ask myself these questions as I try to fill in the canvas that is blank.

I would not be able to tell you the sound of your voice.
I cannot mimic the pitch of your laugh.
Or explain to to others if you talk with your hands.
All your habits have been erased from my mind.

After ten years, I am left here to wonder why things are the way that they are.
I wonder why you never said a word of goodbye
I wonder if you would recognize me if you saw my face.
But mainly I wonder if you would speak up if you saw me passing by.

Quickly, my thoughts lead me to realize that if I do not remember you, how are you supposed to remember me?
How beautiful it would be, and meaningful to me to have you remember piece of me at all.
Sydneycowboy Nov 2020
Mistakes happen
One's good and One's bad
Sometimes you won't know how to fix them
They rip and tear until all that's left is memories
And beyond repair so much that you can't even be fond of it

When they happen
You feel all down
The friendships seem to start to crumble
You watch it one by one
All fall apart
Until all that's left is a knife, so sharp

Mr Mistake will grab the knife, and slice you up
Once it's finished you'll be covered in scars
Scars on your arms, scars on your neck
Scars all over and even in your chest
These scars will last forever even if no one can see them

Mr Mistake is ruthless you know
Sometimes I feel like it's pulling me further and further down
It grabs me and scratches at my ankles
And when it's done I'm 6 feet under

Mr Mistake doesn't care
He doesn't care if you can't breath
He does stop to let you weep
He does everything indiscriminately
And he'll make you feel like you're trapped

But Mr Mistake is one who does have flaws
You can pick up what's been torn
When done right you can fix what's broken
Even when tape and glue has fallen

Just remember that when Mr Mistake comes, not to panic
But realise he's here and try to fix it
Mr Mistake will go away with time
But can come back when you think you're fine

Mr Mistake doesn't care for how you feel
But will always stop if you make him yield
He can always be beaten and put in his place
If only you have the determination to stand up and finish the race
Zack Ripley Sep 2020
Why do we ask the same questions
Using the same words
And hope it is any more relevant
And meaningful
Than it was before?
Isaac Aug 2020
The word "happiness" would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness.
this really brings definition out in the world and many have the inability to see it.  by carl jung
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