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Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2018
Wish I could do something right
So words would ring true
Wish I met high expectations
Maybe then I could lose a few

I wish I was not weighted with
Weakness well within my core
If only I was put together differently
Strength would emit from every pore

I create my shortcomings
How am I sabotaging my own goal?
Not trying in the first place
Allowing fear to take control

My heart bleeds in anticipation
Before cuts have a chance to appear
Live my life in apprehension
Assuming danger to always be near

My motionless state of insecurity
Realm of dysfunctional doubt
I forever am encapsulated in time
My skull is a jail and I cannot get out
Not so proud of this one but eh.. here it is anyway

Written 8/25/18
Gray Nov 2018
mold me

        make me

             what you want

make me what you--
      what you want to be
pose me

   dose
              me

                     break
             me
down
            down
                         down

touch me
          control me
                 absolutely crush me
      hold me
               enfold me--

do
      what
                 you
                        please

mold         me
         make      me
pose           me
        break       me
this is directly inspired by a special thing i like to call Being A Doormat...
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2018
I cannot stand who I've become
Cannot stand my own reflection
This person I view in the mirror
With no grasp of time or direction

Expectation destroying tender brain
Watching it chase thoughts around
Want to corrall the wayward beasts
To some corner to never be found

Time keeps doing *****
Throwing me place to place
I attempt to assert dominance
It responds by quickening pace

Fearing not the days passing
But my use of how many given
Not for lack of trying you see
I work hard but most days aren't worth living

My arms too weak to carry this load
My dreams too disobedient
Walls are whispering to eachother
Starting to question my sanity and sense

I cannot see my image clearly
Behold no beauty in my eyes
Pacing through flaws as I please
Every night escape with highs

Struggling to remember who I was before
Lost important parts of my soul
Wish I had done things differently
I'd sacrifice all I own to again be whole
I look at myself in the mirror and can't help but think I'm the worst version of myself I could possibly be
Cambria Andersen Oct 2018
If we knew what our soul looked like.
If we understood just how beautiful we are.
Idleness and low self esteem would be replaced with,
Love, ambition and a heart full of fire.
Flame Oct 2018
When I'm bored
I like to go on pretty girls' profiles
And imagine what it must be like to be them

To post a picture
And get that many likes
To have their perfect hair
Perfect bodies
Perfect smiles
To be beautiful

Sometimes I feel pretty
But no one ever tells me I am

So I go to their profiles
To remind myself
Of what society can say
But refuses to say to me

And I conclude
That it must be
Because I'm
Ugly
Alex Smith Oct 2018
I remember when I was
Self-conscious.
Sure, I still have my struggles-
Little negative thoughts navigate
Through nothingness natively out of
My mouth.
But, sometimes I like to think
I am the greatest.
Sometimes, I like what I do.
Through and through,
I try to keep this thought true,
Take something I learned and
Share it with you.
I feel new,
Just sometimes.
As if I am not who I was back then.
As if depression never took me,
And if social anxiety
Was a construct of pseudoscience.
Sometimes I feel stronger,
As if I can take on the world;
By my own hero,
And save the ones I love.
Sometimes, I feel the sunshine
And the weight lift from my shoulder.
The older
I get, the longer it stays.
I am getting better,
Or maybe I was never
Ill in the first place.
I can do things
Other cannot,
But also learn from those same people.
I can grow as me-
Stop the burning and cutting
And constant lonely late night crying.
I am free to be balanced
And to be me
And happy.
Sometimes, just sometimes,
I get a glimpse of the time if those moments
Became my everytime.
And then I smile, and breathe
Just breathe.
And continue to think of myself
As broken, but still beautiful
zb Sep 2018
i wish i could see myself through your eyes
and convince myself i'm beautiful
Nupur Chowdhury Sep 2018
I log into the network of my self-esteem,
To see the hearts and the wows and the laughs flooding in.
A simple 'like' wouldn’t cut it anymore
‘Likes’ were so 2010, even 2010 was bored.

‘Cause that’s the zeitgeist of the age, you see,
A tendency to wear hearts on sleeves.
Loves and kisses are a dime a dozen,
With a million friends and followers double.

National debates and social justice petitions,
Real crises, distorted renditions.
High definition photos of disaster zones
Flash up against cat videos on every smart phone.

Snapchat filters do not lie,
Just tell a story of hours gone by;
Selecting the perfect background, the ideal shade
To express love on the dozen’th date.

But that’s the zeitgeist of the century,
A tendency to wear hearts on sleeves.
To document in minute detail, with extensive pictorial evidence
Clockwork days of humdrum nonchalance.

And perhaps the generation that came before
Would call it vanity, vainglory, or something more.
But it ain’t like they were without their sins,
We didn’t invent tabloid columnists.

And now that we are at the end,
Let me sign off with this request:
Like, comment, and share your love
Let your heart fall out of your shirt cuff.
Aa Harvey Sep 2018
Another One About Depression.


Put on your happy face,
They don’t want to see the real you.
Stop looking so depressed,
We’re tired of hearing that you’re so blue.


Get over it, stop being so sad!
Look at the loser in the mirror and force yourself to laugh.
Oh poor little me, they took my self-esteem;
Isn’t life a funny old thing?


Stop pitying yourself, we don’t want to hear it;
For it’s getting rather old now, change the subject.
God?  Why the **** did you make him such a loser?
He’s so ******* depressing, wallowing in his self-pity filled ego.


We don’t need to hear what he has to say;
We’ve heard it all before.
Tell him to just get over it!
And stop being such a bore.
So his girl was a *****,
But he’s not even with her anymore.
**** him!  He can sit there and cry all he wants;
What the **** is he always so sad for?


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Amanda Kay Burke Sep 2018
I care too deeply for my own good
It ruins every good thing eventually
I do not sleep often, obsessing over
Meaning in the words you say puposefully.

I go on an intellectual treasure hunt
Kindness, love, and hope wear thin
Exhausted, too focused to stop
To take surroundings gracefully in.

Amidst the inflection and subtle gestures
Lurks underlying anger, spite
There's no battle, we've given up
No longer have the will to fight.

Get up, go forward, give it all I've got
Go to sleep with an aching heart
Repeat steps from the day before
A string of miseries I avoid yet endlessly start.
One often meets bis destiny on the path he ttook ool to avoid it
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