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Lake Mar 2019
i'm just the same as all of you
yet i can't see from your point of view
been awhile since i felt the ground
been awhile since i heard a sound
a grumbling, a noise, somebody's voice
something to pull me out of the void
awake and asleep, awake and asleep
sometimes it's shallow, sometimes it's deep
waking up's the worst part
the same as a restart
heaven or hell, heaven or hell
just ask my brain cells
need another hit, i'm addicted
i need to feel lifted
to really feel like i'm living
like a human being

or at least halfway there
it's the truth laid bare
whatever, i don't care
i was always taught to share
but some things i should keep to myself
wrote this out to read to myself
love letters to myself cause i got nobody else
there's no one left, no more steps
guess no one's right, you're all out of your depth
i can't get you so why would you try
it's only right i'm hung out to dry
i'm just venting, i'm just lamenting
so my thoughts might be offending
but let it be known these words i'm sending
can always be worse, you heard it from me first
maybe this will help me find some purpose
stop feeling useless and be a little selfish
hopefully i can stop acting so helpless
The Vault Mar 2019
It hurts on the inside
Hiccuping crying
Screaming inside and wanting to outside
Saying things we didn't mean
But you never said sorry
Only me
It hurts like a stab wound left to rot
The scar will stay of what you said
Tears have gone dry
So have my emotions
Left drained and withered
I have nothing to say
Just a hurt on the inside.
An endless pain
That you are not sorry for
Cause you meant everything
Mud
You're blocked;
you're bugged;
your eyes stay screaming
but I can't hear a thing.

Wash through me like knees through mud
not yet caked over by the heat of the
sun; like you're looking for something
you dropped and it may soon be entombed.

Look at me as you would a tree
caked in mud.
          Name me by my leaves, or
                    my sinewy limbs.

You're soft;
you're coarse;
the lines that puzzle your face
make frowning silly, and small.

          Name me Steinway like the
               piano. Or Pecan, like the
                    tree.

Find me forward, trudging through mud.

I can see solid ground but my branches
can't reach to touch the grass or its flowers
or to smell the rotten-ripe crushed leaves of
the pecan trees.

Stick me where I'm stuck,
save the mud. Give my leaves
some snow, some lightness,
cold. Give me color. Paint me
in storm clouds.
Written while listening to Deafheaven's Sunbather.
Ashley Ardo Mar 2019
Pieces,
They grudgingly break away
Leaving the shell you observe today
Suiting eyes which speak of certain injuries that stay
In all my empty brilliance..

  Damages,
The voices mutter tales of that which could have been
For I suppose I'm too fragile with perplexing voids as my companion
Entangled in river rocks I feel they're heavily affixed
Carrying a powerful message to me that I cannot be fixed
I can generally be medicated but I'll never be eclipsed
Perhaps I'm too tortured just to merely escape
For the cracks inside my chest cannot be sealed with simple duct tape
Breathe in all the pain and hold it.. Wait..

  Embellishments,
This gingerbread house was built to break apart
Conjured in sweetened temporary works of art
Awaiting thundered hands to consume our poorly built heart
Greedy gumdrops looking forward for the hopeless to depart
In all of that perfection, leaving only despair..

  Disappointments,
They linger within these walls
Where I've cried Niagara Falls
I've drowned a thousand times
Choking on my sordid rhymes
I sold my souls for just two dimes
And all I asked for was a place to call home..

  Silence,
Enchanting all of the worth I seem to lack
This finite piece is simply trauma giving back
The wind has changed and the fires move their way back
Heeding threat to the rain I bled today
If you stay quiet you may bridge into consciousness and day
Secrets shine like diamonds as they turn my face grey
I suggest you try inhaling some truth for the moment..

  Destroyers,
Unfinished memoirs desperately needing a friend
They've ultimately left blueprints on my body for me
Screaming where I should go envokes beginning to end
These shallow roads have clouded what's meant to be
Effecting my breathing
Bringing on a blight of deep offend
You cannot trust a single soul you happen to know
For the voices embedded within the misty recesses show
That anything worth energy takes time to grow
And although the pain I feel from it continues to glow
I have to step outside myself again
Returning back to safe mode left as my only friend
The terminal enigma await on chosen precious stone
All that's blackened flows away attempting to atone
For why not leave my fate in altruistic chance?
A.***
ClawedBeauty101 Feb 2019
Because now, you are "deaf" to me
Will you ever listen or hear me?
Kev Harlequin Jan 2019
No-one will ever know
hiding behind a wall of lies is a weeping brother trying to sew the torn peices of his broken soul back together.
No-one will ever know
he's withering inside but still still trying to grow,
stretching his limbs for help but does anybody notice him there? No.

No-one will ever know
that screaming from behind a veil of make-up is a girl's dying soul.
Wrapped in pretty clothes
she's trying to break free of the hurt she feels inside
but they don't know.
No-one will ever know she's been tormented by her imperfections and failures
and although she tries not to let it show, it does
but does anybody pay attention? No.

No-one really cares
and they all do a good job at pretending not to see or not to know.
Instead of stopping to help
they turn a blind eye on conviction
and they just go.
ClawedBeauty101 Jan 2019
I am awake... Dont think I'm sleeping in peace

How can I when the silence is devouring my ears like a feast

I cant scream back at it... I can't slam it again my wall

I'm shaking... I'm trying to fight it as it yells out my flaws

I no longer welcome the night...  it is no longer a time to rest

But moment to cruel up to avoid falling to temptations pest

I was doing pretty good.... but I guess time has begun its torment

I cant talk to anyone... I've been left in phsysical isolation

I have been fighting, dont think I haven't

The battle has been going on for far too long... I hope it wouldn't

I've blocked as many lies as I could...

I've slayed many doubts like I said I would

But now I've been slaughtered in a weak spot in my armor

And now I'm down... bleeding... starring face to face with deaths color

So now I'm ready to take my last breath and welcome the silence's abuse

So tell them that I love them and good bye for me... because this princess has to loose

Because in order to end silence's rule... it has to think it has won

So welcome the image of a ****** beaten body, for it's just a weak shell... Guilt is no living fun...
I swear... I will come back stronger someday... and I will scream so loudly in Silence's stupid face...
Jiya Jan 2019
they say screaming isn't art
they say it tears your ears apart
brings no substance to the heart

but screaming can be art
a soundtrack to the dark
the da Vinci of the heart

it depends on your tastes
your lifestyle, your faith
the friends you are so desperate to make

but let's make one thing clear
no matter how you feel
screaming is beautiful
to those with the right ear
so don't try to tell them that it brings only fear
a poem about my love for metal music and how many people tend to perceive it in the wrong light and never give it a shot.
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