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Amanda Aug 4
No more talking suicidal
Done with that stupid ****
I am closer than I
Care to admit
Shouldn't rant and fuss
I'll never do it

I say I hate my life a lot
Believing I am a waste of air
The reasons I stick around
Are the people for which I care
I'm starting to think those same people
Would rather not have me there

You swear you love me again and again
It hardly feels that way
All I want is for you to hold me close
Instead I push you away
If you return my arms will never let go
I just want you to come home to stay.
When my boyfriend said "If you want to die so bad then why don't you just do it already?" It made me realize how pathetic and stupidly overdramatic I sound when I say I wish I could die because I don't want to die. Not really. So then I wrote this poem..
Ashtyn Lucas May 7
i've seen you    a   d
                       r       n
                         o  u
staring me d
                 o
                w
                n
talking ****  b e h i n d  my back
about  e v e r y t h i n g  i lack  
after all youve d o n e    
some might s   a   y youve w   o   n
                                    p        
even though i g a v e u
word spacing is fun lol
'Is everything ok?'

What is ok?

'Haven't killed myself yet, have I?'
SL Oct 2018
Doing what I'm told
19 and having no life besides appointments
It was one or two a week
Now it's like five or six

No freedom to do what I want to do
Doing what others tell me
Break up with me, go to hospital
All that I can do is hurt myself

Constantly feeling like I'm just a robot slave
Not allowed to take a break from this appointment life
Knowing what is right and doing it
Are two completely different things

I'm a teenager, I should be able to be a rebel
But can't because the consequences are severe
It's gotten to the point that I don't care
Where I'm beginning to think about cancelling all my appointments

Time to end this feeling of being a robot
Time to be a teenager without mental issues
Time to party again
Time to be me
Throughout the past year and a bit I have had an appointment every single week. This is my last year of being called a teenager I only have a few months left and I feel like I have no opinion on anything.
Adrian Sep 2018
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.madame's stifled feverish
tittering,
voice raucous as tamped in a
corselet,
translucent skin akin to pellucid
drapery,
overwrought hands entwined in champagne
hair,
madame's eccentricity is her
lunacy.
  ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
  ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.the mellifluous static of the ebony
radio,
            dulcet hallucinations imbricate in her
Crumpet,
ephemeral visionary of the
erstwhile,
Madame’s a suitable fandangle tenant of the
bedlam.
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.madame scrutinized the greenwood through the
crevice,
appetency for the veil of sea
smoke,
   imperceptive to her
frenzy.
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
  .ensnared in an austere
plight,
madame’s urbane actuality,
disenfranchised.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.the exuberant dimension of reciting
hysteria.
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
Finnick Jul 2018
I’m not entirely sure on how to start,
Other than I have depression,
I feel like I’m falling apart...
This isn’t exactly how I wanted it to be,
But we don’t always get want we want,
I’m just trying to let you know, let you see.
I’m always shrugging my shoulders,
I can’t seem to really get used to it?
But I’m not getting any bolder.
It’s like drowning,
Chained to a rock, i’m Sinking.
I can’t stop, i’m Always thinking.
Crying out of nowhere is fun as well,
It makes me wanna give up my soul,
Literally feels like I’m living in hell.
I don’t ever really talk about it,
No one really... cares?
I don’t know how anyone feels about it...
I just sorta... sit in this silence.
Waiting for this weight to go away.
I don’t like it down here,
I don’t wanna stay.
But I gotta, because i’m Chained.
My mind is insane, constantly strained.
I just wanna go back into your arms,
Where I feel at home.
That way... I can feel some sort of comfort.
I know this is probably not the best poem to explain how I feel,
But it’s the best I could do, I finally broke the seal...
I had to talk about it...
Lyn-Purcell Jun 2018
Why
should I feel
inferior by the opinions
and comments of others around
Opinions are never facts so dust it off
and move on and up
Though I know
I'm insecure
about myself
and the future
I know I'm a
dragon with
the breath of
fire All those
determined to
destroy me the
best way is to
set me on fire
watch as I die
watch as I burn
bask in that light
but know this
I won't **** my-
self over you
I will **** my-
self for me
burn away the
shame rise from
ashes and roar
like a dragon
Because once
I've hit the bot-
tom, my wings
begin to stretch
the way to go
now  is     up
People don't seem to understand how their words can destroy others.
Their words have alot of weight. One word is all it takes to push someone over the edge! Words are like arrows, once you let them lose, you can't take them back! You can only watch as they hit the target.
I know what it's like to be on the edge, I know what it's like to feel like you're going to self-destruct. I feel like that every day of my life -  wondering if I am worthy, if I'll ever be good enough. Fighting off depression as well as anxiety. I'm one HUGE bottle of nerves. But I owe it to myself to keep feeding my own inner fire and my dragon. To rise like a phoenix, roar proud like a dragon and take flight.
One's opinion of you can hurt but it's not fact.
Never will it BE a fact.
Anyway, I appreciate everyone here on HP.
You all add to my positivity. I feel at home here because people are so supportive.
Thank you.
Be back soon!
Lyn ***
Weronika Piela Nov 2017
The sadness comes by
Anxiety passes
Excitement is brief
Happinness for masses

You laugh and you sleep
-Maybe for too long-
You cry and you weep
You seem to be wrong
About all your hobbies
Your dreams and desires
Cause none of them
Make you
Happy, it tires!
And it pains you to CORE
How these ******* people
Keep saying your a bore
Your lazy and almost fetal
Laying in your bed
It's Lethal! It's Lethal!
deppression
Annie Dec 2016
Is it okay?
If I sit in the corner of the room
And let myself suffer
While you shine out there
In your spotlight

Is it okay?
If everything that comes aroud
Leaves me scared and drowning
While you put yourself out there
With such decency

Is it okay?
If I refuse to speak
If I refuse to answer
While you climb the ladder
Taking you where you belong

Is it okay?
If I am unable to do what I should
If I fail everytime I try
While you fight your battles
Making it look so easy

Is it okay?**
If I am not like you
If I am not like ANY of you
While you're like the rest of them
Self-assured,
Bold,
Able to do as you're told?
I dedicate this to everyone who is insecure to such an extent that they feel different in a bad way -and have to talk themselves out of everything. This is for those who are clumsy and they can't help it. This is for people like me.
Nik Jul 2016
I tried to write a happy poem.
I tried to throw myself into a pit of nostalgia to try and remember what happiness feels like.

All my poems are so sad, I don't know why I'm so sad.
My therapist tells me I have self esteem issues that effect everything else in my life.
My insecurities have ways been there, I had just never been able to put a name to the face until I brought a razor to my skin for the first time and the pain didn't feel wrong.
I didn't know what I was doing was wrong, I had no idea that it was wrong to be a  12 years old with arms covered in scars I call my battle wounds,
because no one wants to talk about the elephant in the room when it sounds like I've been to war and I'm only 17.
They won't poke and **** me with questions when it sounds like I was captured by the enemy and skinned for my beliefs.
I won't be questioned why I am not happy.
Why at 12 years old I was unhappy and why I am 17 years old now and I am still not happy.

I tried to write a happy poem.
I tried to write a happy poem by thinking 6 years back to before I knew I put the name to the face, before my insecurities were put on show for the world to see,
before I knew it was wrong to hate myself for what I wasn't and for who I wanted to be.
Until it finally hit me.
I've never been happy.
My hair was never as long as the ******* my left,
my body was never as skinny as the ******* my right.
My smile was never the shiniest nor were my eyes the brightest.
I tried to write a happy poem, but I can't write about a foreign entity, I can't write about something I have never had.
The concept of happiness is so alien that no wonder that when people are overcome with the feeing they feel out of this world.

Happiness is a luxury that I have never been given the privilege of.
Happiness is a luxury that I have never I will never been given the privilege of of.

I tried to write a happy poem,
I feel more empty inside than I've ever felt before.
I wonder what happiness feels like
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