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Brianna Sep 2017
I often think about how I would react to my own death if i was an outsider.
Would I feel sorrow? Would I miss Me the way my friends would miss me?
Would I cry at my funeral or would I stand there silently wishing I was anywhere else but here?

I think about the words I say to myself and the lack of love I usually feel when I talk about myself.
The " Oh, no I'm not nearly as pretty as she is" or the " No way would I be MY OWN friend" responses and the awkward stares after a compliment.
Would I comment on what a good friend I was? Or remember the love I gave to everyone?

I think how easy it is to talk negatively about myself as if I am that easily disposable and I want to change that.
I often think no wonder I fall for the guys who always put me second, or let the **** talkers become my friend so easily-- I see myself in the same way.

As easy as it would be to end it all, I've never been one for easy.
I think I'll take the harder path and live a bit longer and see what I can change in the process.
Enola Cabrera Sep 2017
Your negativity drowned me
Pushing me further toward the bitterness of life
Making me dread every breath before taking it
Sophie Kim Aug 2017
(there's something that steadily builds
in the bloodstream of a child with
a father who has the temper of a star
waiting to burst
and to become
mellow again
similar to death
but in silence)

when she touches me, my giving hands
grow cold

when she touches me, my shoulders turn
into themselves

when she touches me, my feet curl
with tension

when she touches me, my depleted body
turns away

her rancid, her caring, her belligerent, her sweet

her nothing

wishing for the strength to push her down

i hate her touching me
there's nothing more disingenuous or violent
than a hand, too hard, too open, too compensating

trying to touch you with warmth
that has been lacking for years

why touch me now if i know you hate me
                                                    (you don't hate me)
                                                    (but i hate you)
about my mother
Samantha Marie Aug 2017
Putting you through this is not worth it
You already have to much to worry about
I'll just make things worse
You see what I want you to see
And that's what you want
But that's not the real me
You would never be able to handle the real me
My breakdowns
My constant isolation
My negativity
My sadness and tears at @2 am
The never ending pain
Trust me I'm saving you the time
I'm not worth it
10/24/16
A day at the beach is worth the tan
A piece of cake worth the calories
The sadness the controls my life not worth becoming your problem
Elliott Storer Aug 2017
The paths in front of me have never been numerically limited.
I've never really had a set destination in mind.
Seeking peace alongside the silhouettes formed as it set,
I've always chased the sun to its horizon.
Hoping where light meets dark I'd be lucky enough to walk the line of in-between to self solidarity and serenity.
Instead, I had found I walked a fine line of self destruction, and self empowerment.
Caught in between being the best me I can be, or not being me at all.
Here, I planted my feet and became rooted in the safety of my own demise.

But tables are turning, stars are falling, there's truth beyond this horizon.
You'll find comfort in pain, and pain in love, and even following the light can mean the end.
Beauty can be found in the eye of the storm, when everything becomes silent take a deep breath.
Look around, let your walls you've built fall down.
Remind yourself of this:
The sun may shine brighter, but the moon is just trying its best.
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2017
It's easy to fall in love with the light.
The true test comes from loving
the darkness and all the burdens it
carries.
People will love the positive. But when you find someone who loves both of you, light and dark, hold onto them
Poetic T Jul 2017
Paper rainbows were hanging
lucid on the breeze of my reflections.

But then my emotions collected
in pools of stagnant regression.

Negative echoes only hung now,
a noose of happier times swaying.
Cedric Jul 2017
As I cross this road of dreams and nightmares, I open my eyes.
Filled with sweet goodbyes and sorrowful errs, I leave my abode
I began to code fake smiles and laughters, then I start my sighs.
I began to cry, I began to curse, I then sang an ode.

I then hurried back in my solitude, I have found solace.
Joyful yet soulless, I gave gratitude as my own attack.
I was set aback by beatitudes gone without a trace.
I tried to save face, hide my attitude, deleting my tact.

Buried in my soul a desire untold to die all alone.
So I could condone my death as foretold in ash and coal.
It was my own goal since the times of old to hush my own tone.
As blinding lights shone a path of the cold as death takes its toll.
A poem I made about my solitary habits and knack for isolation. It gets lonely sometimes but, I have an affinity towards it. Loneliness is a constant, we have to live with it.
Lyn-Purcell Jul 2017
No matter what they say
I AM
GOOD enough

No matter what they say
I AM
TOUGH enough

No matter what they say
I AM
SKILLED enough

No matter what they say
I AM
SMART enough

I AM BEAUTIFUL
I AM PASSIONATE
I AM GEEKY
I AM ARTISTIC

I AM A FIGHTER
I AM A CHAMPION

I AM
I AM
I AM
My affirmations. This is based on a drawing I did two years ago which I hang in my room so its the first things I see in the morning and the last thing at night. There are days that I smile at it. There are days that I can't stand the sight of it. There are days that I wanna show it proudly to people. There are days that I want to tear and forget it ever existed. But I don't. Its easy to think negative, that 'I am not' and admittedly, I still feel this way. But little by little, I'm starting to believe in myself. When I say and think 'I am', I claim it. And soon, I will receive it...
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