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DaysongMercrest Dec 2018
I can plainly see that you're not alright.
you're hiding, and sighing, and only pretending to laugh when you usually would.
your jokes have turned dark, your smiles are steadily becoming more forced.
what's going on?
why won't you tell me?
what is happening to the boy I thought I knew?
please, don't lie to me!
I only want to help you!
don't lie to me.

I know you, or least I used to before you started lying.
you say things that don't make a lot of sense like:
when I ask you if you're okay, you shake your head while saying "yeah I'm fine"
when I tried to give you a hug, you shied away and yelled "don't hurt me!"  
...but with a smile on your face.

why aren't you who you used to be?
what has happened to my brother?
who is hurting you?
please don't lie to me.
-I only want to help you-
Aspen Trimble Nov 2018
How dare you
How dare you sit there cradling your head
Wishing you had never been born
When you have birthed someone yourself
How dare you consider leaving him
His father doesn’t know how to take care of a baby by himself
How dare you think of the check the military would give him if you were gone
How dare you think that that would be enough.
The tension in your shoulders increases the pressure in your head. You fix it. You did it.
Your hands are what’s causing so much pain
Your nails are in your legs
You’ve been doing everything on your own for so long.
Is that why now you need to be told your next step
You need to be told where to go to be better
You wish you were better
No you say, you want to be good at something not better just good at
Something
Anything
You’re sick of articles saying that everyone is good at something because you need to be worth something.
You need to make money
Help your family
Help yourself.
You want to be remembered as more than a mom
More than a wife
**** more than some girl who took her own life
So you want to be good at something
You want to be worth something
You want back the passion you had
You want to strive for talent and skills
Being kind isn’t enough because being kind doesn’t help replace the dryer.
Being someone to talk to doesn’t pay for a deposit on a house
Well then ******* try something new
You say you’re not good at anything new no ****
You have no talents because you don’t work for them
You have no passion because you give up on everything.
You gave up guitar viola art writing crochet knitting school working out everything. You gave up on yourself.
So how dare you
How dare you hold your head and pretend you’re not good enough
When you’ve never given yourself the chance to be great.
A form of therapy I guess. I just busted it out and I’m posting it. If it’s not good or there’s grammar issues that’s why but I’m not fixing them.
Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
https://anchor.fm/ken-pepiton/episodes/Quest-ionic--a-reading-aloud-e2hncq

that links begins at the oldest of my poems here, which are nearing
the point of no return, maybe only because people cant tell me that hate them here, but more likely,
because some of of ya'll liked 'em writ, ye might like 'em said.
A link Please share
I’m writing this to educate people on what I go through.

1.) Being forced to read the Bible.

When my parents MAKE me read the Bible, it’s sickening to me. I’m not trying to offend anyone here, but the mere fact that they forced Christianity down my throat in the first place, is what made me stop believing. When I read the Bible, all I read is mere stories in my eyes. I don’t see how the stories happen and how they are true. When my father tries to explain it to me, it only makes it worse. It makes me not believe it and it is literally torture when I have to sit down for an hour and just read the Bible. Like, have you seen the names in this Bible and they expect me to know how to properly pronounce them? It’s ridiculous! For an example: “Naphtali”, “Bilhah”, “Esau” and “Oholibamah”
I’m a teenager and I don’t know how to pronounce everything, but those are probably some of the hardest words I’ve tried to pronounce on my own.

2.) I still respect other religions.

I may not believe in Religions, but I will respect them. As long as you’re not shoving it in my face, I’ll be fine with it. But If you try to convince me to believe in it or talk about it too much, I can get aggravated and uncomfortable. But just because I’m an Atheist, DOES NOT MEAN I WON’T RESPECT YOU. I will respect your religion as long as you respect mine.

3.) Being threatened to go to ****.

How can you threaten someone with your religious beliefs when they literally don’t believe in any religion? And how can you have someone want to believe in your Religion when all you do is say, “Oh, You don’t believe in my God(s)? You’re going to ****. And you’re going to burn there for eternity.”
Honestly, someone preaching to you about how you will burn in **** can be scary.
The details they add make images in your head and it can scare you, especially if you’re a teenager.

4.) Trying to fit in as an Atheist.

In school, telling people you’re an atheist automatically puts “Satan” in their head. Yes, I’ll make jokes about Satan and stuff from time to time, but it doesn’t mean I’m a Satanist. I honestly cannot stand when people just scream “Satanist!” And point at me in Public just because they’re ignorant and won’t pay attention or even take the time to understand what atheism is. And then of course, people spread around rumors that I “worship satan.” And everyone gives you bad looks and stuff. It *****. I don’t know why Atheists get shunned and people look down on them, but come on guys! It’s 2018, I thought we were supposed to learn how to accept each other instead of hating each other? I respect you guys, why can’t you respect me?

And 5.) Living as an Atheist.

Honestly. It’s no different from living as a “Christian” or a “Jew” or a “Muslim”,
it’s the same to me. Nothing’s happening from when I did live as a Christian to now, living as an Atheist. I don’t see any change. My parents always tell me to pray and ask for forgiveness and stuff, but that won’t help my issues or anything. Folding my hands and just, “oh, ask for forgiveness from a ghost that is ALWAYS watching over you.” Like, what the heck? It makes NO SENSE whatsoever. So that’s the life I live, I hope some other people can find comfort in this.
This is just a simple rant to educate people on my life and what I go through. This has NO intention of offending ANYONE. If you read #2, I still respect other religions. I really do. And I don’t worship Satan either.
mythie Feb 2018
Crying softly, I rest a hand on your cheek.
"Everything's going to be okay."
"You didn't need them anyway!"
Until your face turns into ashes.

An unrecognisable mass that once was you.
What happened to the you I knew?
I hear glass shatter.
As your silhouette gets further.

I don't understand why you always look so sad.
Life would be so much easier if you were glad.
But when I touch your pretty face.
Your porcelain skin starts to break.

I look through the glass.
"I'm doing okay.
I am okay.
Even though I needed them, anyway."
Then the glass breaks.

Words echoing through the cave that is my mind.
Trying to put all the pieces back together.
But they can never fit just quite right.
It's always you, but not the one that I knew.

"Today is a good day."
I lie.
"You can do it."
I lie.

"You're stable, happy with life.
One day, you'll make the perfect wife."
I look into the mirror.
Then my face turns to black.
mythie Jan 2018
Scream.
I.
Scream.

My throat hurts.
But the scream was soft.
My pillow holds all my screams.
So they can never escape.

I feel better.

Cry.
I.
Cry.

My eyes burn.
But my eyes won't water anymore.
My pillow holds all my tears.
So they can never escape.

I feel better.

I go to punch my pillow.
I need to vent.
Let it out.
Out.

Bleed.
I.
Bleed.

My knuckles are bruised.
The kid in front of me is crying.
Where is my pillow?
Where am I?

I feel awful.

Scream.
I.
Scream.

But this time.
Everyone can hear.
My pained cries echo the streets.
I can't hold it in anymore.

Blood trickles down my throat.
My eyes are red and puffy.
My knuckles are ****** from punching the pavement.
I can't stop.

I keep crying.
I keep screaming.
I keep punching.
I keep doing it.

Breathe.
I.
Breathe.

I can finally breathe.
After all this time.
I finally realised.
My pillow was suffocating me.
mjad Nov 2017
The world spins
It spins and spins
We never question
Or doubt or fear
What would happen
If it suddenly halted
We are too busy
Walking and talking
Loving and hating
To think about words
That we don't want to hear
The end is inevitable

My sorrow grows
It grows and grows
I never question
Or doubt or predict
What would happen
If it suddenly stopped
I am too busy
Sulking and sobbing
Raging and ranting
To think about anything
That could be a bit joyful
Happiness is invisible
anon Nov 2017
this poem
has a title
so that all who read it
know
that this poem has a meaning

because without something to reference
a name
or a title
things are left behind

just like me
in all the years
i tried to remain
untitled

rather

anonymous

untitled people
like me
are given no
second glances
no
first chances
no
social advances

nothing

left behind
like a poem
without
a name
Em MacKenzie Jul 2017
Many a times I find my mind is static just at best,
my lungs are damaged, and I'm empty in my chest.
The days are lagging, painfully dragging, the time is ticking slow,
then looking at the calendar, I wonder where did this month go?

Nothing to gain but buckets of rain,
and a ton of empty air,
and you could feign to feel some pain,
but the in the end, no one would care.

You're feeling right when you fight,
and you dabble in defense,
and last night you were playing scrabble
but every word lacked sense.
You coat your spleen in nicotine and claim to live just fine,
but you're getting thin, lacking every vitamin,
"you really should get more sunshine."

Nothing to gain but buckets of rain,
and some grass that could be more green,
and you could claim that you're still sane,
but no one knows what that word means.

Many of strangers bring on danger, but most will treat you well,
and with the heat coming from the street,
you'd think I'd be on my way to ****.
The one you love most is now a ghost,
and you're overcome with dread,
and it's not a faze, we really do praise,
the ones that are now dead.

Nothing to gain but buckets of rain,
and some thoughts that were never there,
and you could feign to feel some pain,
but in the end, no one would care.
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