Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Cerasium Jun 2020
What’s the point
What’s the point of confessing
What’s the point of being open
What’s the point of letting people in

I’ve started to question
Why I even bother trying
Letting people in my head
Just to be let down and forgotten

What’s the point of caring
When all you get in return
Is a cold shoulder
Or completely ignored

What’s the point of attraction
If all it leads to is suffering
What’s the point of it all
When you will just be tossed aside

What’s the point
Of wearing your heart on your sleeve
When all that will happen
Is it being tossed into the dirt

Crushed under the weight of abandonment
Lost in the waves of forgotten-ness
Possessed by the need to be seen
Yet forever be ignored by the one who holds it

It doesn’t matter anymore
But it still hurts badly
I have **** off my emotions
But the damage has already been done

Shattered remains of a once caring heart
Lay broken across this scarred flesh
A reminder that caring for another
Will only lead to pain and anguish

So from now on
I will no longer care
I will no longer fight
I will no longer love

I will keep to myself
I will seal off my heart
No one deserves it
Not anymore
flamingogirl Jun 2020
Get out of my head
Get out of my heart.
It's been 2 years
but I can't think of us apart.
The two of us
were never a we.
So why do I want you
to be with me?
On paper, we looked great
I thought we'd be perfect,
but our moment was ruined
we never really clicked.
I hope you maybe see this,
you'll know who you are.
Please don't forget me
my heart is always scarred.
-Goat Apr 2020
All around me I see houses with beautiful yards
yet my home is built with nothing
but spare parts
It's not about what you have to show, it's about how much you fought to be able to show it
(kind of a stretched rhyme but whatever, right?)
N Jul 2019
She’s under my skin
like a bruise that’s
unwilling to heal

Her touch
left me trembling

Her gaze
pierced my bones

Her love
scarred my soul

I left,
when my heart
ached to be hers
Thomas W Case Mar 2020
Her eyes danced with
cornfield loneliness;
pain so deep
that blueberries and
puppies couldn't
touch it.
She tried to **** it with
***** and
****,
but that only
made it worse.

The solution came
simply,
like flipping a switch.
She just quit loving.
It was rough at first;
tough on the heart.
It hurt when she
saw dandelions and
felt velvet on her face.
It ached when she
smelled the sunrise and
kissed soft lips.
But with time she became
like a head of lettuce
or a marble.
Her eyes were
vacant;
reptilian and blank.
N Mar 2020
She forced me to pray for a god
that never answered my prayers

When I told her that I wish to die,
she told me to recite Al-Ikhlāṣ

In her own eyes,
I was a sinner who didn’t worship
the same imaginary friend as hers

An imaginary friend that let her
steal my innocence instead of saving me
from her cruel hands and piercing eyes

How can I worship a god that
didn’t listen to my desperate cries
when I was abused,
abandoned, and bruised
Well, that was painful to write.
N Feb 2020
Mother gave
me a blade

Mine was pink,
hers was purple

It was a useless sharp thing
that’s always in my drawer

One night,
I reached for the blade,
and it felt like my
mother’s embrace  

Every time I used it,
I was being released
from all my pains

Thank you, mother
I just realized while cutting my arms that I only use the blade she gave me years ago. I used it the first time I ever cut myself how ironic.
the hollow girl Feb 2020
RED
Every time I close my eyes I see red.
It drips down onto the ground, onto my clothes.
It stains.
I open my eyes and I’m left with the memories of myself cutting my arms open to see the crimson red liquid drip out of the wounds I’ve created.
Wounds that I’ll soon regret.
Wounds that scar my skin.
Wounds that scar my mind.
Every time I close my eyes I see red.
These scars are forever.
But I can make it better.
I don’t know how but I have to try because when I close my eyes I am reminded of that **** color.
That color that reminds me of the many times I’ve hated myself.
It reminds me of the times someone had hurt me.
It reminds me of the times where I felt like I shouldn’t be alive.
Every time I close my eyes I see red.
I want to see other colors.
Next page