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Nick Moser Feb 2016
I've come to realize that when you are feeling down, no one cares.

The only thing that is said is: "Cheer the hell up!"

But I've also come to realize that when you are feeling happy,

No one cares.

And to think I "cheered the hell up" for nothing.
I can't please ya for anything.
MsAmendable Nov 2015
Remember to put the pins
Back in the pin cushion
After you put all the pieces back together,
Don't drop them!
You wouldn't wish to step
On someone else's leftover pins,
Or pins you left over from fixing
Someone else.
Izzy Broaden Aug 2015
I love you so much. Too much.
I want you. I need you.
There for i cannot. Will not.
Let myself have you.
I'm stuck. I'm trapped. I do not know how to get out out.
Help me. Love me. Need me. Want me. Kiss me.
Throw me up against the wall. The floor.
Throw me on the bed.
Make love to me hard and passionate.
Look me in the eyes and tell me you ******* hate me and need me!
Take to me *****.
Choke me. Slap me. Pull my hair. cut me.
You **** her. I **** him. Together. Beat them. Too death.
It turned me on.
Blood
**** me
Guts
Cut me
I touched myself.
You watched.
Your *** in my cuts.
Needle
******
Veins
Blood
Sick twisted ****** up love.
I need it
Turn me on
Use me
**** me
LOVE!
Passion like no other.
****
*****
****** up
Sick in the head
LOVE!
Stab me
Slap me
Beat me
You did it
Lay with me as the blood of the wound leaks out.
WAKE UP!
I'm dead
Get high
Needle
******
Veins
Blood
To the point of no return.
Your dead
TOGETHER.
Together we lay here.
Here in this bed.
******
LOVE
BLOOD
I love you so much. Too much.
I want you. I need you.
There for I cannot. will not.
Let myself have you.
LOVE!
Written by: Izzy broaden
My best friend was my Teddy,
I would hold him every day,
And when the monsters came at night,
He’d scare them all away.

My best friend was my mother,
For she kept me safe and warm,
And while she held me close at night,
I feared no hurt or harm.

My best friend was my father,
For he always knew the way,
And though my path lay in the mists,
He never let me stray.

My best friend was my baby,
And I loved her more than life,
And in my sweetest dreams I dreamt
Of making her my wife.

My best friend was the bottle,
For it filled the hole she left.
It numbed the pain, it dulled my mind,
It helped me to forget.

My best friend was the needle,
For it tamed the beast inside,
And when the monsters came at night,
I’d run from them and hide.

My best friends all deserted me,
I struggled on my own,
I said a prayer… to empty air,
And found myself alone.

And when I found myself alone,
A cobweb on a shelf,
I knew that no one, nothing could,
Protect me from myself.

I sought a friend, a smiling face,
I made a call or two,
And always heard the same six words,
“We don’t have time for you.”

My Teddy could not save me,
For the monsters proved too strong,
My mother tried to rescue me,
But couldn’t stay for long.

My father was asleep in bed,
He did not hear my cry,
My baby left me years ago,
We’re over, she and I.

The bottle proved a fickle friend,
And when I drained it dry,
The bottom held no answers,
And I could not see the sky.

The needle proved a traitor,
And the day I turned my back,
It slipped a knife between my ribs,
And everything went black.

My best friend is the reaper,
And I yearn a coup de grace,
I feel his breath, a shot rings out,
I feel his cold embrace.
A remembrance, and a foretelling.
DaSH the Hopeful Oct 2015
With my teeth gritted against my grandfather's wrist watch
                            I put the dope in my veins
      The ideas it contains
Make me numb for a while
    So numb I don't realize the metal twist and snap between my jaws
Okay, no, I do not do any kind of hard drug, the dope is a metaphor for poetry itself. The watch both time and heritage.
Wade Lancaster Sep 2015
The needle
The pen
providing fine points
for disasters end
Do you also find this interesting how both the pen and the needle can be both?
Wren Djinn Rain Aug 2015
Here comes the sun in all its glory
tracing the hemisphere in its slow
rise over rubble, but first the tallest
steel and concrete dedications to
the lives living high while their
green shadow casts below over
the desecrated. I see bright night light
shining blue. I see wide, wild light
only high noon. Morning, all day
veins are caving under the rubble
under the tallest.
Here comes the nasty truth, suited
in belts clasped with wealth for
well being, beating the lies with
a dollar sign, until the ugliness
of the first story presses like
meat into the underneath, under
the detritus concealing lives in
the dirt with the needles.
I see bright night light shining blue
in the park restrooms. I see wide, wild
light only high noon from the under-bridge,
waiting for trains to come crush.
gunning for what?
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