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Why do you make me bleed bleed, bleed bleed, keep me bleeding,
It's like you're only happy when I'm on the edge of walking away and leaving,
You love me confused, blurred between sanity and insanity,
But every moment whether it's with or without you is calamity,
And I'm so close to losing it again,
The psych ward is becoming my best friend,
And I don't like it, but you don't seem to give a single ****,
I'm just waiting for when my heart said it's had enough,
Cause that ******* is dumb as ****,
Let's you beat it to pulp and asks for one more hit,
My head's been screaming for awhile now to please let go and not to linger,
But I still have at least have one more fiber of skin left hanging on in my *******,

******* for not walking away when you can see I'm incapable,
You're not gonna leave me until I'm broken and beyond savable,
You want every piece of me that's not broken, and I'll tell you it's not many,
And all the shards are screaming out, "Please somebody save me!'

You, you just love that I love you, and it's not quite the same,
As a love that doesn't keep making you feel more in (*******) sane,
But I don't think you really know the difference,
You only think love is real when it's toxic as ****,
And me, I just want for once to feel okay,
Not to wake up dreading another day,
But you, you don't care as long as I'm paying attention,
What happens though if you push me over the edge of my depression?
Just one step too many and you know I'll down a hand-full of pills,
Not look back until I wake up in the ER or looking down at myself buried under a hill,
Sometimes though I wonder,
If you want me six feet under,
Just for the ability,
To ask other girls for their sympathy,

******* for not walking away when you can see I'm incapable,
You're not gonna leave me until I'm broken and beyond savable,
You want every piece of me that's not broken, and I'll tell you it's not many,
And all the shards are screaming out, "Please somebody save me!'
𝑰 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒀𝒐𝒖,
𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆.
𝑨 π’”π’•π’π’“π’š π’˜π’‰π’†π’“π’† π’†π’—π’†π’“π’šπ’•π’‰π’Šπ’π’ˆ π’ƒπ’†π’ˆπ’‚π’.
𝑨 π’”π’•π’π’“π’š 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 π’˜π’Šπ’π’ 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 π’‡π’Šπ’π’… π’Šπ’•π’” 𝒆𝒏𝒅.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 π’”π’π’†π’†π’‘π’š π’†π’šπ’†π’”,
𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 π’‡π’“π’‚π’Šπ’ π’ƒπ’π’…π’š,
𝑻𝒉𝒆 π’˜π’‚π’“π’Žπ’•π’‰ π’šπ’π’– 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 π’ˆπ’Šπ’—π’†π’ π’Žπ’†,
𝑰 π’Žπ’Šπ’”π’”π’†π’… π’Šπ’• 𝒔𝒐 π’Žπ’–π’„π’‰, 𝑰𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔.

π‘«π’†π’”π’‘π’Šπ’•π’† π’Œπ’π’π’˜π’Šπ’π’ˆ π’˜π’‰π’‚π’• π’˜π’‚π’” π’ˆπ’π’Šπ’π’ˆ 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏,
𝑰 π’•π’‰π’“π’†π’˜ 𝒂 π’ƒπ’π’Šπ’π’… π’†π’šπ’† 𝒕𝒐 π’Šπ’•.
𝑡𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 π’‚π’„π’„π’†π’‘π’•π’Šπ’π’ˆ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 π’Žπ’†,
π‘Ίπ’‚π’šπ’Šπ’π’ˆ, ''𝐼𝑑'𝑠 π‘œπ‘˜π‘Žπ‘¦, 𝐻𝑒'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒'' π’‚π’ˆπ’‚π’Šπ’ 𝒂𝒏𝒅 π’‚π’ˆπ’‚π’Šπ’.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 π’”π’Žπ’Šπ’π’† 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 π’Žπ’Šπ’”π’”π’†π’…,
π‘¬π’π’ˆπ’“π’‚π’—π’†π’… π’…π’†π’†π’‘π’π’š π’Šπ’ π’Žπ’š 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕.
𝑻𝒉𝒆 π’‘π’“π’π’Žπ’Šπ’”π’†π’” π’šπ’π’– 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 π’Žπ’‚π’…π’†,
π‘Ύπ’Šπ’π’ 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆 π’‡π’–π’π’‡π’Šπ’π’π’†π’….

π‘΄π’†π’Žπ’π’“π’Šπ’†π’” π’‘π’π’‚π’šπ’Šπ’π’ˆ π’‚π’ˆπ’‚π’Šπ’ 𝒂𝒏𝒅 π’‚π’ˆπ’‚π’Šπ’,
π‘³π’Šπ’Œπ’† 𝒂 π’ƒπ’“π’π’Œπ’†π’ 𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒑𝒆.
𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 π’‡π’Šπ’ˆπ’–π’“π’† π’‡π’π’‚π’”π’‰π’Šπ’π’ˆ π’•π’‰π’“π’π’–π’ˆπ’‰ π’Žπ’š π’†π’šπ’†π’”,
𝑢𝒉 π’‰π’π’˜ 𝑰 π’˜π’Šπ’”π’‰ 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 π’šπ’π’–π’“ π’†π’Žπ’ƒπ’“π’‚π’„π’† 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 π’Žπ’π’“π’†.

π‘¬π’—π’†π’“π’šπ’…π’‚π’š 𝑰 π’Œπ’†π’‘π’• π’•π’‰π’Šπ’π’Œπ’Šπ’π’ˆ,
π‘Ύπ’Šπ’”π’‰π’Šπ’π’ˆ 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝖨𝗇 π– π—‡π—ˆπ—π—π–Ύπ—‹ 𝖫𝗂𝖿𝖾,
𝑾𝒆'𝒍𝒍 π’‡π’Šπ’π’… 𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 π’‚π’ˆπ’‚π’Šπ’,
𝑨𝒏𝒅 π’π’Šπ’—π’† 𝒂 π’‰π’‚π’‘π’‘π’Šπ’π’š 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 π’•π’π’ˆπ’†π’•π’‰π’†π’“.
This poem is inspired by LittleLuxray's In Another Life story. The story is really beautiful and it moved me to tears especially the part "I found You" "You found Me". The story is only a fanfiction and you can search it up on google if you are interested in reading it.
Mose 2d
I’m scared that I have nothing left to speak of.
All my poems pour art of misery.
Making statues of our grief.
Filling the museum of my life’s ruins.
They tell me to smile it will make me more pretty like the art on the wall.
So, I paint love I never seen.
Polishing myself to be left on the shelf.
The art sees more truth than I.
Being loved for what is something I don’t know of.
Crossed legged, fingers intertwined.
Praying was a virtue I could only dream of.
I just needed to plead with someone other than myself.
Knees marry the ground as I have with my loss.
Who am I passed this pain?
Begging for an identity even if its not my own.
Ask yourself who is the lead character without their role?
Is there a story even to tell?
So, I reflect everything that is shown to me.
The art and I are only a muse.
A showcase of words that cannot be spoke.
An example of what could be.
A life in the mirror of what should be.
My art on the wall is painted with misery & so am I.
I'll bite my tongue til it's black and blue.
Tongue tied by karma
And repetitive thoughts of you.
Can't let you know it all,
And risk giving you more power over me.
I can only trust and pray to the powers that be.
I suffer in silence
Every single day.
I only have this one life
And I don't see another way.
Yes I wish things were different,
But it always stays the same.
Maybe from my cowardice,
Or is it because I'm brave?
I ask Him every single morning,
"Why, just why?"
And all I get is silence,
So I cling to hope that whatever's meant for you,
Will never pass you by.
I've felt the warmth of summer,
the beauty of spring,
and the death of fall.
Yet the coldness of winter is all I ever feel.

Whenever the sun sets
and the moon arises,
I've felt the warmth of the summer sunset.
It fades together with the hope left within me.

I wanted to return to those days,
where everyone laughs and smiles genuinely,
with no problems to suffer,
and anxiety left to feel.

I felt cold,
as the world turns darker.
Slowly, my feelings became dull,
Just like the snow falls on the ground.
Hello everyone! this is my first poetry that I made last year when I was in junior high. I hope you like it!
I found a penny face up.
I flicked it off because luck doesn't exist.
At least not for me.
I picked it up and turned it to tails.
If I can't get any luck no one else can.
People say misery loves company,
But I'm just tired of things working out for everyone else but me.
I think I'm last on everyones list.
I'm the pocket change in the bottom of a purse.
I'm the last resort,
When people are desperate for some change,
Turning their purses upside down,
Throwing couch cushions,
Hoping for some luck.
I'm a lot like a penny.
But if I were a penny I'd have tails on both sides.
**** pennies.
As I lay here, I allow the water to wash over me.
It caresses my skin with its delicate touch, as it laps against my body.
I let it flow through my finger tips, as my thoughts pour out of me.

I plunge myself down inside of it's depths.
Hoping that it will wash away my misery.
Praying that it will bring some clarity to my eyes.

My hair floats around me.
I watch the thick locks swirl around the pool.
I can feel it's slick form wrap around my frame in it's serenity, as my strength bids me goodbye.

One by one my muscles loosen with slack.
They allow the substance engulf my form in a hug.
It's arms are cold and smooth, as they envelope around me.
Without hesitation, the substance drags me deeper into it's inky briny.

As we travel further into the depths, my throat burns with thirst.
I allow the chilled liquid in with hopes that it will relieve my discomfort.
Bubbles explode from my mouth like silent screams.
I trail them with my eyes, and watch them run to the surface.

As I sink to the bottom, I take one last look at the crystal surface above me.
For once, I feel at peace with the world.
This rocky surface is my home until I have to face reality.
Jay M Apr 2019
Caught up in the expectations,
And you say you want the best for me,
Want me to be your perfect little girl,
And it's torturing me,
This pain won't go away,
Every day keeping it at bay,
Now all is so bitter...

It's getting harder to breath,
Burning my lungs,
One day you'll learn from making your lungs black,
While I try to learn from making my soul black.

I hope so immensely for the pain to go away,
Yet if I spoke it,
I would be taken away,
From all I know,
Into oblivion...

Sitting here,
Alone to bathe in my misery,

Too many problems,
And I want to run home,
But what good would that be?

Being rejected;
Now I can't find what I've left behind...

This is where I lie,
Broken inside,
Slowly outside,
Loosing my mind,
Being left behind.

- Jay M
April 2nd, 2019
It bleeds,
It tears the heart apart in itself,
It is really painful,
I realize that It would **** my move.
It would break my mind,
When I will realize that you would forsake me,
And leave me alone to walk,
In this lonely dark grove,
I would suddenly die,
I would try to cry,
To save my soul from breaking,
I would be silent for days
I would fast,
And I might leave this World
I would pray for another time,
For another journey together
To be with you
Together to sleep forever,
And wake up again.
It was written by the author in his melancholic time.
dailythoughts Oct 15
the moon burns brighter
glaring at me
shying away on your name

while I shamelessly
hide in my misery
of your poisoned
pillow talksΒ Β 


Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ­Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β the moon sees it all
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ­Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β even under my skin
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ­Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β  even over my pretend
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ­Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β truly wondering
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ­Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β  how I am doing
I continue to pretend
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