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Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2018
I always end up
Self-destructing, leaving those
Close wounded or dead.
I wish I had more control.
Kenley Mar 2018
Please take a seat
In the back of my head
Stop hijacking my thoughts
And wishing me dead

Hand over the reins
I'll take it from here
You will self destruct
And you're insincere

I look to the future
I welcome the new
You served no purpose
And I am stronger than you
Brittany Wynn Jan 2018
When I fall for a guy
it's like
doing ******.

Barely eating
because he turns
my stomach inside
out
when he kisses me
with tongue (and he knows it).

Restless sleeping
because I hear
my skin begging
him to touch me (and he knows it).

I trace lustful
track marks,
reveling in the ravaged
fallout
but ignoring

the dark hollows
under my eyes
and ribs poking out
from crop tops--
they don't bother me

so naturally

my friends give
a full length Ted Talk
on "Being Independent:
Don't Get Attached and
Give Him Everything He Wants 101"

Family doesn't even ask
but tell me he's not
good
enough,
handing out cryptic warnings
like condoms from the RA
that isn't worth listening to.

So naturally

I ruin their interventions
with sleepover
sexcapades that not
even a wine-drunk
binge can fool
me into thinking is real.

His pretty words whispered
into my ear
are needles
into my arm--facilitating
illusions that are
just
delusions.
But isn't it the truth, though.
nina Jul 2017
if happiness was
a cake,
i wouldn't get
a slice.
i would circle around it,
smelling,
wanting & drooling
over it.
but never daring to
take a slice.
waiting for everyone to take
their share.
& when everyone has taken
one or two,
i see the empty cake plate
& sigh.
my stomach grumbles at me
again.
i am hungry, starved of food
again.
but i refuse to take a slice
of cake.
& like a sick girl, if i was offered
a bite
of someone else's slice & i ate it,
i'd *****.
purging myself of the things i'm not
allowed to have.
because i'm not a girl who deserves
this cake.
& i cry myself to sleep asking myself
"why"?
why can't i just eat the cake
& be happy?
but i still refuse to take a slice
of cake.
because it seems so much easier
when i'm empty.
{im sorry i keep hurting you when all you deserve is the whole **** cake & more. it's like i can't breathe when everything is going well...}
Come and take me,
My misery's attacking me,
You don't have to save it,
Just destroy it so it's gone.
I look at myself and think,
I should just purposely ***** up more.
If it's easy for life to **** me up,
Then surely I get to go further.

Nothing's okay,
There's just always a facade,
To satisfy the rules,
Because the world will keep turning either way.
Of course I'm not going to sit and complain,
Vocally every second of the day.
When I'm socially active around others,
What they see is normal,
For me at least,
Even if in the background I hear screaming,
Of my thoughts never sorting themselves out,
So instead I welcome more:
Everything that eventually "left me",
Why don't you come back for some more?
If destruction's where life is taking me,
Then why shouldn't I join in,
Just another bad habit,
Won't bring the end that closer,
If anything it will make myself see,
How much I know this is getting,
Too tough for me to be.

I know how I'm acting,
Even if you do not,
I know I contradict myself,
I can't just tell you the truth,
I need to do what it is I want to prove,
Although that disproves what I assure you,
By about a thousand degrees,
From before I hear my own last screams,
As I once again ignore my very own beliefs.

Never going back,
They're so sure that's the truth,
Most of the time I have been too,
I know how to convince,
After I finally gained trust back.
The issues are almost irrelevant to me,
Because I've taken to just concentrating,
On exactly what I'm doing now,
Because I gave up the effort of relying on the aftermath.
I know the next time,
That this comes to light,
It will probably just be even worse,
Maybe it's half why I need my secrets,
To pretend they don't happen,
That they don't matter,
Because I'm back to believing that's true.

Don't save it,
Just take it.
I'm finished with trying to preserve it,
I've found there's no use,
While looking for something else without a clue,
Because everything's just impossible,
And I don't want to have to,
Get to where I cannot reach,
Maybe other people do see things in me,
Although I'm often self-positive,
In general terms,
I still don't see the point in being,
When I show up places,
It's not like I have a choice,
I've just always mostly been obedient,
If you dismiss the scratches I have made,
They won't forget the indentations,
Because they felt it too,
They felt me drop, crack, break and watched me,
Pick myself back up again,
So going back downstairs is silent,
Avoiding the inevitable from happening a second time:
Prolonging my pain,
Deafening this angry silence from them,
To lengthen out the disappointment,
They must one day receive.
Marilyn Sistinas Dec 2016
An ashtray full of buts smoked away by conversations of the past.
I'll show you open wounds that can't be healed,
If you tell me secrets that, til then, they had last.
Hang up those shoes with holes of adventure,
on the subsiquencial line to nothingness.
It's not as if we'll spawn again,
you've already left me to forget,
but you can not pretend that none of this was worth anything,
that you wouldn't come back if it hadn't gone to ****.
You can't just blame me for the things that you did!
Untied laces,
Missing pieces,
empty bowls and missing lighters.
unforgotten memories eating at me,
the person i was taunting the person I've become.
I've always heard the weak pull down the strong.
these inevitably destructive visions,
unfinished cigarettes,
half empty bottles flat in the morning,
stolen clothing and broken glass.
I doubt whatever this seems to be,
the feeling that hits me from the past,
a confused, somehow nostalgic me.
Yet, everything is better now,
no one to be harmed by and no one to soak up disrespect from,
only a perfect protray of everything I lacked before,
and this.. this is what I've been in need of,
a reliability that I love and they may love me in return.
I used to think love was when someone gave you a warm tingly feeling,
If cherry chap-stick erupted into an emotion,
If cotton candy could bleed.

Now I know that love is heavy.
Love is heavy and sweet, with occasional bitter layers in between; love has a mouth on it.
Love will keep you in line.
Love will blur the lines entirely but still expect you to remain inside
them.
When you feel love, you become drenched in it, you are simply sopping wet with irrational decisions spawned out of love.
It is a weight I will gladly carry.
I will walk into the ocean with no stopping in sight carrying armfuls of love.
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