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Lyn-Purcell Jun 2018
Dear society, I'm tired of your
debauching standards of what
it means to be beautiful into a
mere commodity.

Dear society, why can't you look
into the windows of the soul? Are
you scared to see a flawed being
just like yourself? Scared to see
what truly lies in the heart? Scared
to see more and want more than
just a body?

Dear society, what you call
beauty now is only joy for
your eyes. There should be
more to us than just *** appeal.

Dear society, your expections
has done more harm that good.
Those who fall in line will always
be accepted. And the ordinary
will be rejected...

You've made me feel like I'll never
be good enough. That my life
should be dictated to meet your
standards. No matter what I do,
there will always be something
wrong with me. Some imperfection
that I'll be forced to fix.

I am more than flesh and bone.
I am more than blood and tone.
For years, you've made me sad,
you've made me hate.
And I refuse to die bound to
to a dark fate.
Society *****.
There is more to people than outer appearance,
or is that concept boring now?
Oh well.

Be back soon!
Lyn x
afteryourimbaud Feb 2017
I am
a kid.

a kid
that you
have to

beat meat, beat meat,
beat meat,
today is
your turn
for a treat.
jennee Nov 2015
I don't think this cycle is meant to be broken
I seem to be running in circles, frequently going back into old habits like it's bound to happen
I detest each passing day with a passion because I should be living a life worth telling and I should be dreaming dreams that I will make into a reality
But I keep cutting my words short, filling my lungs with smoke and body with scars too prominent to show
I have nothing to look forward to, my days feel numbered and I'm not responding well to the help I'm offered
I'm burying my voice along with the others, I'm not afraid of them anymore

I will let them devour me alive, watch them tower over me until I am nothing, until I am no more

The voices won't stop
jennee Oct 2015
Drain me out

I am a flightless bird soaked in deep water
Hindered by the heaviness of my feathers
Constantly weighing down my flock
I am not my own burden
But a bag of rocks thrown into the ocean
A corpse to never be found
When meant to catch the eyes of the innocent
My body refuses to stay afloat
My mind is living under
And I have no choice but to hit rock bottom

So hear me out

Carry my withering bones and feathers
When my body decides to give out
I cannot keep living under water
I am not meant for this environment
My skin is meant to feed the clouds of freedom
Tracing linear passages and unsteady travels,
With my own people
We are meant to soar into oblivion
Of building dreams and vision
But my mind keeps living under
And I cannot escape what has harvested inside
I have no choice but to hit rock bottom

jennee Oct 2015
coming home from a long day of school, i am welcomed by my mother's kisses yet it's the blade's that touch my cheek
i feel the long glides of hello's and how are you's creep up my veins and sleeves
my heart pounds like a hummingbird, except this time there's no bird but a desperate cry clawing at the door
my throat catches itself as i skip lunch with an empty stomach. my tears will be all that's left to ingest and the dining room will be my bathroom floor
i collapse on my knees drenched in uniform sweat, punching the tiles and marble décor
why is it, that every time i strip i reach for sharp edges instead of shower curtains?
why do my hands try to break the buildings of restraint? why are they strong enough to reach for the blades?
and why am i considered weak if i resort to such violence?

i cannot remember the last time my thighs looked bare
each time i recall, i see a naked canvas stained with red and purple
my individual hairs dipped in fresh cuts and my head spinning around in circles
each time i try to forget the lunch i skipped and the conversations of unspoken words i never said,
the skull behind my forehead trembles with regret
and i’ll remember how my heart would pound like the wings of a hummingbird
flying back and forth, clawing and tearing my chest open as i reach for the door

my mom awaits me with kisses to welcome me home
but i’ll be too eager to collapse on the bathroom floor

User Not Found Jul 2015
Another day,
Another breath,
Another lie;
"I'm fine."

Lost in space,
Take away the pain,
Hold me in your arms;
"I'm fine."

A waste of air,
Close my eyes,
Sink into darkness;
"I'm fine."

The words they say,
Armor worn thin,
Pierced the skin;
"I'm fine."

Open wounds,
Heart on my sleeve,
Eyes swollen shut;
"I'm fine."

Swallowed the pills,
Cut too deep,
Lungs on fire;
"I'm fine."
Jo Schmo Jun 2015
He exchanges women for the pain

That remains

Lodged in his brain

From trying to maintain

An image of a person that he never was

So because

This image eludes him

He chooses to confuse them

With promises of more than he intends to provide

Doesn't let them know straight up and they don't seem to recognize

That their sole purpose in his life is to cause the pain to subside

And he hides

His cries for freedom between their meaty thighs

And tries

To lick, and pump, kiss and bump, touch and ****** so much

That he gains their trust

While they lose their souls

Because he can't free his own

Their screams  and moans

Are the only home in which he can feel great

So he makes

as many of them

Reach that place

Where all they can speak is his name

Because maybe if he hears it enough he will figure out who he is.....
- Tamika Murphy
Courtney Lyn Mar 2015
If I lay blade to skin
Will I bleed out all the toxins that make me so undesirable.

If I rip open flesh
Will I tear away the pieces of me that repel.

Will the anger and loneliness seep from the wounds
Leaving me whole again.

Can't I just pretend
Jaanam Jaswani Dec 2014
And we will never know what it's like to crave the essence of youth back in a vial;
Because youth was never something we understood anyway

Each premeditated; careful move -
Each calculated.

Fake laughter .
We're too self conscious.
There are too many of us.

And sometimes I long for a past that isn't even mine:
I miss the things I've never had.

I'm wasting away my days -
Waiting for my life to begin.
Hoping; that each freckle-strapped face
Would show me the way

Give me serenity.
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