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Pity love,

Is the love you give me.

The only reason of your love,

Is out of pity.

I hope it's not true,

Because I'd like to think,

You don't see reason to pity me.

I don't want to be,

Your pity love.

I want you to have proper reasons,

And I want to be,

Your one true love.
This is completely how I feel, I wrote it a few days ago (not that you needed to know that).
Akemi Aug 2014
Pathetic poetry
Dissection apathy
Lull without breath
Passive aggressive

Self-defected, self-replicated
Pull out the year’s save
There’s ******* nothing
There’s ******* nothing

Intoxicate headless
Suffer indefinite
I’m going nowhere
I just don’t give a **** anymore
“Well, come now, what do you care about really? Don’t you care about anything? How can you be a good poet and not care about something?”

9:18am, August 8th 2014

No one gives a **** about you until you're dead. False ******* care the moment you try to **** yourself. Social pity.
Who the **** tries to understand? As if suicidal thoughts could be fixed with simple solutions.
Deal out pills, deal out sympathy. Doe eyes and white lies. Plaster symptoms with normality. Useless ******* advice.
I'd rather disappear than watch a crowd of strangers gather at my funeral.

Inspired by: https://topshelfrecords.bandcamp.com/album/stranger-songs
https://deathwishinc.bandcamp.com/album/i-v
JadedSoul Aug 2014
a lifetime of anticipation,
I waited for the Great Feast
a lifetime of discipline,
to spare my appetite
not to spoil it
On mere junk food

As the big day came
The Menu was discussed
In exquisite detail
I was told,
About all the dishes
Their tastes and flavours

Hungry as a roaring lion
I patiently waited at the door
Inside the hallowed hall
My feast was being set
Pure white linen
****** crockery
And golden cutlery awaited
At my seat of honour

With tremendous pomp
The doors swung open
The majestic hall
in candle lit beauty
beckoned and welcomed
my every step

The servants showed my throne
Where I sat down.
Gleaming lids covered my feast
With
Candle light dancing on the polished gold

Hors d ouvres first,
destroyed I was when I saw
That someone else
was here before

My wonderful roast
Already carved,
Huge chunks eaten
And dry bones left

Fresh green peas
Were rudely dug in
By filthy fingers
No manners for a spoon

Desert was half eaten
Ice cream left to melt
And of after dinner mints
Only a handful left

Thus then violated,
My beautiful feast!
Others snuck in
And ravaged my table

They left some crumbs
spoilt leftovers
As the Locusts went on
Without a care!

Now I sit hungry
Alone and forgotten
Staring in disbelief
At my desolate table

How I wish I had known,
Before I came in
That the menu was a lie
And someone else had been

Elsewhere I'd have gone and eaten
Or at least not starved myself
In anticipation for a feast
That the Locusts have eaten

Daylight revealed my majestic hall,
merely an old shed
Where the Locusts were WELCOMED!

Far from being the guest of honour
I am instead the lowly servant
No rights or privilege
Left to clean the Locusts' mess

A live cockroach, if I can catch
Sustains me, barely
I fill my chipped cup
With tears of sadness
It's my fault it rained.

I feel like I have never laughed before,
The dreary streaks increasing.
There is nothing that you can do,
I can't trust you because I've fallen

Too many times.

Dropped by the hands
That should have protected me.
I don't blame them,
I can only blame myself.

The anxiety is worse
As my body refuses to sleep.
I could never tell you--

My darkest secret
Brings sorrow to my eyes
But laughter to others.

They don't understand.

They don't believe it--
How could they?
They have never listened before,
Why would they start when I
Wanted to stop

Breathing.

I've grown.
Now I'm living
In the mourning clouds.

Could it be me they pity?

I wish I wasn't the one to rain
And ruin the day,
But nothing is done right,
I am just a half empty glass.

I should remain invisible in the rain.
Ydromancy: fortunetelling with water
CommonStory Jul 2014
Pretty, young, dumb
Follows many cheap inspirations
Walking with an influence
influenced by others
In the right place at the right time
Just in the wrong direction

Looking for the horizon
With a vertical point of view
Suffering from escapism
A natural reality
Taking quiet steps
Down something like a stairway

Hopeful while walking
Pretty young dumb
Doesn't fall and get imprinted
With a loss of steps
With many cracks and depths
Then the pretty is gone
And it's just young and dumb

But young and dumb
Suffers from a disease called age
That captures us all
From night and day

Far less the beauty
And so far from young
Lets just hope in good faith
That you don't remain dumb
I suppose it's something we all hope
Nameless Jul 2014
There is pleasure in self pity only familiarity and possibly comfort,  so get out whilst you still can!!
MST Jun 2014
Let me cut your wrists and **** myself,
releasing you from this mental prison,
where you believe you cannot escape.
So I will climb into your head,
stab you until I am dead,
then I sneak away through the wounds gape.
As I try to run away,
out of sight and out of mind,
I will drown in your blood,
when my cure makes me blind.
Unknown Jun 2014
Yeah, the fool who accepts blindness
It's tricky wandering through the darkness
With bare feet

That **** will get you hurt
You might bleed

But don't confide in me
I'm done being an outlet for you
And you, and you too

Do things on your own
You need independence
Not help

Oh yeah
Bandages are behind the mirror
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