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Eloisa 12h
She decorated
her pain and her misery
with red fallen leaves
When some days
are not so bad as others
but you’re still drinking
and miserable.
the inching hatred
of who you are
but not what you’ve done-
that’s depression.
Simon Oct 11
Stinging with rage! The skeleton would say. Not figuring out anything if never having layers is a good thing. Why must I have an upkeep in social deficiencies, if I can’t learn myself enough? The skeleton contemplated extensively. I’m too gray! Too…Tooooo… Poised! Being poised is a dampening effect. One revolutionizing logic without circumstance. Circumstance without valid reasons to erupt circumstantial balance. Deeming to involve constraints upon your own systems processes. Strife filling into those processes. Putting a bony skeletal hand to its bony chin. I’m a skeleton. I’m all strife! My bones don’t just sting. They rust! RUST!!! It said yelling with two skeletal arms moving clenching bony fists in the air. Try having rusted edges without completing desirable functions! Releasing edges without rust involved. I move one step, and SNAP! OOPS! Edges be screaming my velocities down the rut! Velocities pit my joints moving with other joints in an unbalanced poised expression. Poised is great. Having good flexible positions in the making. Except for the fact I sent the rusted edges. Which once again, is a catch of being too POISED! Maybe I should have asked for layers when wanting to become poised? But without favor. Favor of not having to worry about any deficiencies. Self deficiencies? It said opening it’s mouth wide. More like social deficiencies! I can’t go anywhere feeling my form is off completely! Skeletal arms in the air while staring up into the atmosphere. Mouth still open wide. What do I DOOOOO???!!! All the sudden, the skeletons stinging edges started to rust more. Huh?! Looking down at its skeletal body. Surprised and a little alarmed. The skeleton notices it wasn’t thinking. Since you sometimes don’t realize you just started thinking without one’s volition. The rusted edges were thinking. Or something sizzling with charisma? Charisma with claim, purpose, and factual statements. I don’t, UHHHHHHHH!!! Pausing deeply. Feeling something burn with rage! The stinging…! It’s getting more intense. I-I, I can’t stop myself from feeling it too much! It wants to envelope me. Wait? The skeleton stops. The stinging stopped all together. Not feeling the burning rage anymore. Whoa! Weird. W-what just happened? Sizzling effort of rust kept on thinking with sizzling charisma. OHHH! I get it now. The skeleton retracting its movements back to its original posture. I’m freaking out! Calling for what it seems to be. I’m detracting my own surface from its original desire. Bony hand against its chin. A claim without focus. The skeleton snaps it’s bony fingers. Feeling the sting rupture between rusted joints sizzling with claim, purpose, and factual statements. Away from the thinking. The skeleton seeing it’s joints become more flexible as two of it’s bony finger tips made contact with one another. Seeing is believing after all. It said smiling wide. Feeling the rusted edges absorb it’s smile into it’s thinking base. More stinging raised multiple alarms along the entire bone structure. The skeleton shook violently! Not feeling despair, concern or fear. But warmth. Warmth giving it an excitability it never sought out before. Probably because it never had to. Until now. I think my social deficiencies will start disappearing now. Feeling calmer. Along with my perfect poise that only existed in this bone structuring stage. I’m awaiting something newer. More affordable now that I’m beginning to understand.
How I would feel when moving without contempt for my own volatile commands. Making myself think being stuck in a rut for too long, was actually a good thing. How wrong was I.
Elysianne Oct 8
In worthlessness and hopelessness
I had lost
my way

The treasury in misery
I don’t know how to cope with pain

— Elysianne
The cure is self-love
Tori Schall Oct 7
Don't forget your promise to the stars.
Don't let all the misery, tear you apart.
Don't let your heart blow away in the wind.
Don't let my memory go out like a spark.

But if you do tonight.
I'll just close my eyes.
So I don't have to see,
when everything I love
Is set free.
Hurricane, hurricane, hurricane,
Inside it, houses flying with gardens,
Different elements and temperaments.
Cows, cars, and pennies are flying,
Green, gray and grim trees are flying;
Sights pop up and fly away.
Inside it, there's me,
Sometimes in houses,
But mainly flying.
It's a hurricane,
Nigdaw Oct 5
We are the recorders of history
weirdos, winos forgotten souls
sideline shadows watching
for someone to fall, so we
can write a verse or two on tragedy
twist it out of our tormented minds
to show we care in our special way
but we do not change the world
for if there were no misery
we'd run out of material to write about
A Sep 29
it’s almost never ending yet I know it will come to an end
if its tangible it’s temporary yet I can never seem to mend
no matter how many nights I spend
with liquid pleas running down my cheeks
trying to inspire myself to be one that gets up & seeks
Yet I am lost in the middle
Life to me is just a complex riddle.
Times running out and I’m getting older yet I gain no value when my life fits into a folder
all my days are caged
All my smiles are staged
All my misery is contained yet it escapes sometimes
Hitting me as a strong wind hits its chimes

My sadness is unbearable yet I’ve not committed a crime
Why am I sentenced to fade into my blues until the end of time?
very raw and unedited yet life has been overwhelmingly closed to me & this is what I came up with to convey and escape. Hope you like it.
The Vault Sep 24
I will take anything to get this feeling out of my chest
This headache out of my head
I can't take it.
I want it out
with blood
with a pill
with cancer in a stick.
Anything please
Just make me forget I exist.
I just wish
I loved life a little less.
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