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Danielle L Cook Apr 2017
it's just another ordinary day,
another ***** up I have to erase
always weighed down with these mistakes
and tied to my toes, each a solid stone
and I'm sinking faster than flash
how I could know this was the last?
failing to breathe, yet doomed to hope
submerged, soaked down to the bones

and lost in the oceans
as forgotten as smoke
so i take another hit and lose my mind
my lungs filling with ashes this time
Eloi Jun 2016
Self medicate, while we sleep we let the night chase evil things away,

Burst into flames,
Scream in the dark
I'm gonna light up this place
And die in beautiful stars
KILLME Sep 2015
Anxiety meds.
Meds for depression.
They make me feel numb,
make me lack expression
Amber K Jul 2015
Medicate me.
I'm sick.
I need someone.
I need something...
just to take away the pain.
I'm begging.
Nothing helps anymore.
I thought of everything.
But how do I fill the void that was meant for you?
You're here...
but you're not.
I don't know what's real anymore.
Cat Fiske May 2015
I try and paint my ugly *** feet,
with black nail polish,
but my medication,
isn't allowing me to feel my hands,
so they shake,
and the only reason I know,
is because of the darkness they've painted,
over my fat uglyer now blackened toes.
just a poem about me painting my nails
WistfulHope Jan 2015
I wish I knew how to
Freeze myself
In a cryochamber
So I could wake up
In fifty years or so
When no one will
Remember me
Or what I've done
I have weird thoughts.
Niki Elizabeth Nov 2014
Society wasn't meant to handle us
be able to understand us;
and so we cannot understand ourselves.
They don't know what it is like to feel and see everything so deeply and vibrantly
that you begin to feel and see no more.

Instead they diagnose us and they “treat” us.
Say it with me:

But I will not be ashamed. I stand proud
Because while the drugs may dull and fix the pain on the surface,
I remain an anomaly, something so rare and unique ––
Something so misunderstood they're afraid and don't know what to do.
uncontrollable, unrestrainable,
Aaron Bee Jul 2014
Slow minds,
Hungry times.
Fire ignites a
Luscious green
kind of
Euphoria inhaled,
Stoners prevails
For we have
The upper hand
Held to our mouths
With the other
Not too far.
Lighter in hand
You are the
Magic man
One of many.

— The End —