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chicken Oct 5
I don't want this
I don't
I don't
I just wanna be free
Can't be me with her around
Cause the me I got
ain't even real
I don't want this
She is everywhere I go
Can't stand her presence
bein' around

I just wanna be me
The me that I created
Not for real
Not for real
Can't be real

I just wanna be me
Fake old me
Li'l ol'me
Pretending to be some one else.
set the scene;;

this is a male response to a females attempts to form intimacy with the real person inside the false, defensive shell that she has caught a glimpse of, and fallen immediately in love with. he is not used to tru intimacy, it scares him tremendously, and instead of going for it, he opts to repel her in favour of protecting his falsely created life of fantasy bonds with others. the value is placed on what is fake and defensive, whilst discounting the real and the intimate.
Alice Jul 5
On nights like this,
Self sabotage is all I know.

I'll ruin the things I love the most,
Until I have exactly what I deserve:

I rummage through dead leaves,
looking for any excuse to evaporate, like an abrupt mist into nonexistence.

I can justify my actions with one blink of an eye.
Regret does not sit in this mind of mine.
Would ruining my happiness make me complete?
No, it would not.
Yet I still chase it, like a gust of wind.
Aa Harvey Nov 2020

Self-sabotage; it’s all I know.
There is no way I am letting anybody get close.
Self-sabotage; it’s all I have got.
If you want my love then I will be sure to be gone.

Why try to love me?  I can’t be loved.
Why try to like me?  I have given up.
Why try to talk to me when I am mute?
Self-sabotage because I could love you.

I am a broken record who totally ignores,
Any possibility of ever being loved.
Say I am bored, when inside it burns to the core.
There is nothing in this world that is purely good.

Holding on to losing hope.
Sun still shines even when it snows.
In love with misery; happy with apathy.
So full of nothing; love being empty.

(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Sandy Palabras Aug 2020
Dear self,

I kneel before you not to let me stand in my own way.
Chris Calkins Jul 2020
i'm stuck in this bomb of a body;
heels pressed into the knowledge
that things will always go wrong.
finger cocked on the hair-trigger that is my mind;
whether the blast will go inwards or out no one knows.
either way, the result will hurt everyone close
to this disaster that is me and myself;
the only thing  i can be trusted to do
is sabotage my health -
i fail on purpose at everything else,
Note: This was written 8 months ago. I was in an abusive situation, and I'm out now. Things still aren't great, but it does get a little better from here on out.
Isabine Apr 2020
What could I do to push you away?
What would you do, if I hurt you?
How could I shock you—with me?
How would it feel to be thrown away?
How could I melt your smile?
How could I make you hate me?
Why do these thoughts keep blooming?
How come I can't believe anything lasts?
At all
Maurice Apr 2020
You're like the villain in my own story
as soon as it seems good you reappear,
what was once so close is no longer near.

When I take one step forward, you take two steps back
two steps forward, four steps back
no matter where I go, I'm always trapped.

I stand on these crutches but others stand higher,
while they're looking ahead, I'm looking tired
I guess it's just how we're wired.

We've convinced ourself this is normal
"I'm just stuck in a rut!" but in actuality,
maybe I'm just a nut?
Tatiana Dec 2019
I'm sitting on my wings
and wondering why I can't fly.
Is there a doctor I can speak to
that'll diagnose my desire to die?

Do you know what it's like
to make believe all the time?
Do you know what it's like
to be stuck between death and flight?

I look up to the sky so blue
and see birds flying like I'm supposed to.
What am I doing wrong?
I raise my arms up, always reaching

for a helping hand
yet they slap it with glee.
I'm not here to cheer though I'm
proud can someone give me a boost.

I think I've got my
wings free.
I'll flap them to this
frantic beat.

Where did everyone go?
I'm not sure I know.
The rest of them flew here.
How am I alone again?
Grounded in the air.

I'm sitting on my wings
they're pins and needles not downy feathers.
They push into every single nerve
each time I try to fly.

Do you know what it's like
to make believe all the time?
Do you know what it's like
to be stuck between death and flight?

Here's a song about self-sabotage and depression
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