Alec Nov 2017

What light doth yonder window break?
It panes me; to stay and wait
Madness, Madness. Cold and Cruel
Leaving us all Jesters and Fools.

Insanity and Vanity
Our tools of trade.
Do you see what lovely little scars they make?

Perplexing and Vexing
A scattered picture makes.
For who can tell what is real, and what is fake.

Splattered and Slathered
The Mind unveils
Leaving all the ponder it's tales.
Who can tell truth from lie?
Who decides whether they live or die?
Judge, Jury, and Executioner alike
Have all seemingly gone on strike.

The Mind, a kaleidoscope of lies
Nicking and Picking
Fixating and Hating
Obsessing and Testing
Creating and Saving
Destroying, Deploying


What Truth is lying within a lie?
That so encaptures and invests our Mind?
What is the difference between truth, fib, and lie?
Perhaps Songbird, Raven, and Vulture will suffice.

A Jun 2017

The order of things, dicatates the state of life.
Of birth and death
Of peace and love.
To be born first, to some, an honour bundled with waves of respect
To the rest, hate, burdened shoulders and the curse of perceptual culpability

To be first is to be condemned to the fate of being a disappointment
To be first is to perpetually fall short in the eyes of the breeder
To be first is to consistently have a target placed on your head
For nothing you do holds value

The second is blessed, the immortal infant.
Always incapable, left in your situationally capable hands.
If the situation permits, you could have done more.
If it doesn't, you didn't do enough and deserve their punishment.

Their is no win in the fight for peace.
You were cursed at birth
As long as you remain in their domain, the breeders and the later bred wear your head on the door nail.

Sometimes, we are just tired older siblings
Em MacKenzie Jun 2017

I never know when I'm going to fall asleep,
and each dream I have is a nonsensical surprise.
I'm sure if I look hard the messages are deep,
but I never know what is true and what are lies.

When I'm awake I'm still always in bed,
each second I feel my soul drain more and more,
how strong does one have to be to defeat their head?
Or to not immediately drop down to the floor?

I'm cursed to be moved by many things,
and sometimes I'm not sure if I am real.
But still I rely on mood rings
to tell me how I should feel.

I like taking hot baths, so hot I can feel the burn,
'cause even when I'm feverish I can barely stand the cold.
My pink skin proves there's lessons some just choose not to learn,
and I'm not sure if it's foolishness or me trying to be bold.

Each season has it's emotion it brings,
and when they leave there's parts of me they steal.
But still I rely on mood rings
to tell me how I should feel.

I speak to the air that's around me,
pretending it's a ghost of the past.
Inbetween where dreams meet reality,
there's a depth that's so very vast.

I've always been one to fear change,
in a weird way I find comfort in the pain,
I'm not sure if that's common or deranged,
but the grass is always greener after some rain.

In stories both angels and demons have wings,
and both have someone to whom they kneel.
But still I rely on mood rings
to tell me how I should feel.

Em MacKenzie Jun 2017

Sometimes when I skip rocks at the sea,
I'm surprised it doesn't throw them right back at me.
As when I was a much younger girl,
I always kicked out at the world,
but the world kicked back harder each time,
maybe just trying to keep me in line.

In life there's a set of lessons that we have to learn,
like passing your hand through a flame and seeing eventually that your skin will burn.
Or trusting the wrong person to keep your secrets and to guard your heart,
because more often than not, you'll have it ripped apart.

Maybe these thoughts hold no meaning,
but I've been dying just to get them out.
Since I was born I've been fiending,
to know what this whole life is about.

Every night I look for life in the skies,
but the only other world I've found is in my dog's eyes.
Her world is a place where love is given freely,
where ours is where our hearts leave unintentionally.

Maybe these thoughts hold no value,
but I've been dying just to give them air.
You would if you were plagued by them too,
I just want one night where my mind's bare.

Sometimes I envy those who don't hold their tongues,
I'm filling up with unspoken words and they're now filling up my lungs.
If I keep staying silent I will most likely drown,
but if I open up my mouth the water will rush on down.

Do you ever think we live in a picture painted by manipulative hands?
because from far away it looks perfect, but close up the colours have blended at the strands.
Maybe we're just hung on a wall with a glance from bored eyes,
and the only sounds in the gallery is a mix of yawns and sighs.

Maybe these thoughts hold no currency,
but I've been dying just to get them out.
Right now my mind's in a state of emergency,
I've been crying so hard that there's now a drought.

Jaycee May 2017

Idiotic girl,
ranting in the form of a sentence
in this forum full of nonsense
about how an old friend
felt her up despite knowing
she has sexaul trauma issues...
but that's just her post today.
Tomorrow there will be something
else that actually triggers me,
but she doesn't care about that possibility,
does she?

Why am I still on this stupid website?
One and Only Mar 2017

I thought I could take it
and so I endured.
I thought I could make it
and so I went on.
Dismissing each thought
each farewell suggestion.
Little did I know
I was not that strong.

I've been good and I've been behaved.
I haven't had an idea like that for even more than days.
But somehow recently, I have been thinking,
planning once more,
my life which is fleeting.

I don't know why it's hard to tell others,
hard to tell those who you love and vice versa,
They tried asking when they seem to catch me,
but it doesn't seem that they take me seriously.
I'm just that extrovert who's had a bad day.
Doubtful it seems for me to wish myself away.
Some people have it worse and say I can't complain,
but this time it's different,
cause maybe you can handle it but this is my pain.

Stop calling me dumb,
Stop calling me intimidating,
Stop calling me walang hiya
please, stop calling me big,
It's not exactly a compliment,
so please stop saying it.
I thought you understood me
though maybe I'm at fault here,
for I could never show my feelings
as clear as my streaming tears.

I don't know how I can do this.. Most people seem to be fine leaving me alone.

You always read about anxiety as a thing you get when you're about to talk to someone you like, or about to go up and speak in front of a bunch of people, and for the longest time I thought my thoughts on anxiety, my anxiety was different from everyone else's, weird.

But I was fortunate to come across a poem, a kind of rant,
that decussed the same issue I was in. And sure, I'm not saying that anxiety doesn't involve getting nervous, or sweaty palms when doing something so small, so simple, but yet it can feel like the biggest thing in the world at the time, because yeah, that can be anxious anxiety, but what I'm talking about is the kind of anxiety where you stay in bed for 4 days straight because you're scared of what will happen if you get out of the comfor of your own room, you know making up a thousand different scenarios of how bad things could turn out.

Anxiety isn't just nerves or scared to do something so little, no anxiety is where you're scared of life itself, scared of living. Anxiety is a mental disorder, and I wouldn't wish it apon the worst of people.

Icarus Frayed Feb 2017

Being sad for me is an experience.
I don't know if it's different from how everyone else's
But I if it's just like your sadness then I'm so fucking sorry

Because sadness for me isn't feeling down or being weighed down by this feeling
It's like being on fire
But on the inside

It's like being stabbed by something that doesn't hurt
Then feeling this cold fire spread through my body
Like a wild fire being winded out by my thoughts
Or frostbites all over my body being thawed and frozen again

Being sad feels so heavy and prominent that I'm not even sure if my happiness is real
If it's really there
Or if it's just the a sense of sadness

I feel disgusted by myself whenever I fake a smile or a laugh or even saying "I'm ok"
I wanna cover my mouth with my hands every time someone ask me if I'm ok because I'm hard wired to say that I am

Being sad is already so fucking painful that I've grown up being used to keeping it in instead of telling people about it
Because I don't want to let anyone in
I don't want anyone to see the wildfire through my soul
I don't want them to see me frozen up

Because I'll hate myself either way
If they burn themselves up to thaw me out
I'll hate myself
If I drown them out when I douse this down
I'll hate myself
And if I saw them carry any part of my sadness to help me
I'll hate myself

I'm so hardwired to not let anyone in that I can't let anything out without destroying everything an everyone around me

Being sad for me is an experience.
I don't know if it's different from how everyone else's
But if you feel the same thing as me
What would you do?
What should I do?

February 04, 2017

We ain't no showcase
not pictures to gawp at
or books you can pick up
shut the fuck up.

I could tell you all's fine
I've drunk all the wine and
streets are inviting
that's just shite in a tea cup

and swearing,
so what?
what the fuck have we got to
be Christian for?

While they're having their balls
while democracy falls
while the drones keep on flying
I'll keep on trying
to put across the message
that this ain't no picnic.

One and Only Oct 2016

When you say "I love you"
Please say it to me
and not while looking somewhere or at someone else.
I don't have the guts to tell you and so
I live with my own consequences.
Have I ever told you that my body is no longer as important to me as before?
That getting sick and feeling pain is a way for me to know I live?
Have I ever told you how horrible I feel day after day?
That each hour passing by decreases people's love for me and I don't want that especially if your love for me as well decreases.
That each time I do not fulfill your request you'll love me less and less.
Angering you does nothing to help and so I am not to speak lest I disappear for long from this earth.

I don''t want to tell you. You might just laugh me off and okay I get embarrassed. I don't want to say anything
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