Wyatt 1m

So the words came to a close
and my lips stopped moving.
I felt an impending doom,
another relapse looming.
I sat motionless
at the end of the bed
with a sharp thought
and my hands to my head.

There is nothing left to do.

She cannot trust you anymore
You have hurt her deeply
Willing to always help
But, you have tortured her completely
Everything is thrown out the window
Fun times have sadly become a memory
There is no sunshine present
Nothing but complete misery

Wyatt 8h

I cannot believe that
this is where we are.
Stacking up pain,
tearing down the heart.
I've always dreamed of
being something,
but I've always been
a nobody with a pen.
Where will we go from here?
I've conditioned myself
with the pessimistic sentences
that hold me back and ensure
that I'm never heard out.
I heard you were the same
and the demons, they won.
Where do we go now?

I saw one more light
flicker out now.
You were an instance,
a common feeling.
Is this how we're all found out?
One by one we're all dying out.
I've become a lonely witness.
As another lost mind, I ask
where do we go now?

Sometimes all I wanna do is
be sad
It's all I write about
It's all that I am.
.
Sometimes all I wanna be is
Blue
It becomes my mood
It becomes my truth
.
Sometimes sadness washes over me
And I let her
Like welcoming an old friend
Knowing they will soon leave
.
Sometimes all I am is
Nostalgia
It drowns me in sorrow
It drowns me without color
.
But it's okay, they're a part of me
There's no denying it
.
But now they don't linger
They just come to greet me
To know about my life
.
And then they say goodbye
.
Sometimes all I wanna be is sad
And I'm alright

Dawn 8h

i'm just so lonely or so angry
all the fucking time;
it's become so easy to keep track of days
when i feel fine.

I'm so sorry for swearing, it has become a habit of mine.

I see you're feeling down again
And no one in the world can understand
You may not mean the world to me
But I assure there is still a world for you to see

Tell me where it burns
The scars of what was once told
The memories that haunt your days
The sleepless nights you fill with rage
Why do you give them the attention they seek
Those memories are only there to haunt your dreams
To make a windmill out of your mind
Mowing away the sanity inside

You may not mean the world to me
But I have been there and I know what you see
I know how the numbness feels right
But you need to face the pain to shine bright

The numbness tucks you in
And invites you to an endless sleep
Until you sleep eternaly

Embrace the pain that makes you grow
Look forward and go with the flow
And if the light dims again
Just prepare for one more journey ahead

The journey will never be easy
The journey will always feel hard
But when you fulfill it my friend
You will feel like a shinning star

And if you fall down again
Learn with what you lost and walk instead
There's always something in life worth your time
So don't give up on it while blind

For all those who fell in the void and struggle to win motivation to get out
clara 16h

Carried you around like an emblem,
Wore you on my sleeve,
the Bastard Child iron-on patch.
Damaged goods and everyone knew it.
Lump in my throat I never could swallow,
I named it Pride and found solace in it.
Named my Traitor Tears
Giving Up and Giving In
and mourned them as they fell.
Learned forgiveness is for the victim,
almost never for the culprit.
Taught myself how to love
so sometimes it's a little selfish.
Pride jumps from my throat
the day I admit that I want you.
I never needed to swallow it,
only to let it go.
I came home the day
I came to you.
Your embrace felt like divine intervention,
and I'm a fucking atheist.
Twenty one years worth of resentment
evaporate into thin air. Never knew
I was capable of this kind of forgiveness.
So bold as to let you see my weakness,
and that I am made entirely of it.
Never felt more whole than I do
in your presence.
We pick up where we left off,
though we never left off to begin with.
Found a friend and a father on the same day
in the same man, learned to love in a way
the Bastard Child could understand, and now
I need only to forgive myself.

imagine this... your father left before you were born. your mother told you he was a terrible person your entire life. finally, 21 years later, you contact him and everything makes sense.

Our maker molds us from clay,
and we beg on our knees for knowledge, for consolation-
we wait in sorrow for a message from beyond.
But the dead remain silent, no matter the occasion.
So happy birthday, dad. I need no reply,
only know that I think of you every night
and every tear that falls
is for you.
I wish I knew what was waiting, if you were waiting.
But the dead remain silent.
And so do I.

birthdays and ghosts, and a dead man walks
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