Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Raven Mar 15
My eyes are forever ruined. I see too much, and what I see melts every gold and silver I have embedded in me.
I seem to know too much, but never too much to expand beyond limitations.
Limitations of what the mind can see.
I suffer, a heart of pure diamond, moulded into what others have made me.

I see intentions, crowds of people, lies, pain, truth...
But this gift means nothing to me anymore.
The healing I carry with myself.
I am not heard and listened to.
I feel misunderstood.

What can you do when you have it all?
But something is missing...
I’m smart, intelligent and driven.
Back at school as an adult to complete something important to push myself for further opportunities.
I push myself too hard and suffer defeat when I face failure.

Failure is my only fear.
It’s scary... knowing that without self discipline, where am I to be?

Please stop loving me, I am too sensitive.
Evil, personified.
I am torn, disappointed, disgusted...

Love serves me no purpose anymore.
Buried so deep inside of me is longing and confusion.
Wanting what I can no longer have.
I push away those who do

Too picky?
Too cold, detached from it all.

I want you, only you.
I still think about you.

But I may be wrong, for I have wronged myself into thinking that I will ever see you again.

Yolan.

Broken imagery....
I was so wrong
Darling clairvoyant, please stop ruining me
Cae Feb 21
are something that I have learned to hide.
Seen as a weakness to my parents, seen as too sensitive.
Grow up, you aren't a baby anymore.
Stop crying, you have everything.

Bottled up inside me I learned to control them.
I learned to ignore them
every time they threatened to burst.
Tears are a luxury we all take for granted.

I've grown to accept this part of me,
grown to accept that tears aren't the enemy.
A part of me will always whisper to myself,
grow up, stop being a baby.

But in the end, we all shed some tears.
Kennedy Dec 2020
you stopped caring,
its almost like my crying
is your favorite sound.
and i know, i know,
i took it the wrong way,
you didn't mean it like that.
i'm not the best person,
i cry, a lot.
i'm sensitive, but i also
have a major attitude, always.
i look at myself in the mirror,
for way too long.
i like to pick apart every flaw,
and stare at anything remotely beautiful
until i begin to see it as disgusting.
i don't like back massages.
i think they're awful,
because i can feel your disgust.
and you don't need to voice it, either.
i can feel it.
i am completely aware that when i lie,
my body flattens
and the skin doesn't have space to spread.
you see, my skin, is too large.
sometimes i can pretend that it's not.
back massages are not one of those times.
she's so much thinner, it makes sense.
choose her.
Nilia Loh Dec 2020
Raised voices like an echo through a horn,
makes my ears get pierced with thorns.
little humans that shriek all the time,
gives me shivers down my spine.
All the cars that sound their horns,
chased away my peace until is gone.
All the sounds that i could hear,
makes me feel like death is near.
My heart seems to race endlessly,
chased by fear relentlessly.
a poem regarding something that i have been experiencing for a long time now
J Dec 2020
I can just simply tell you how tired I am
but it's something that's been done before
over and over
so I will describe it.
arms are loose, hanging down in defeat at my sides, knuckles dragging against the ground, hair unwashed for yet another day because I just can't get myself to stand and walk into the bathroom, much less turn on the shower, much less let myself stand under the droplets.
I'm screaming, eager to be normal, to stop feeling like this, but nothing changes, ever. muscles in my face pull, then I'm smiling, and they smile back, and it falls.
the pain in my chest grows sharp, both in pain and in realization; I'm dying.
I reach for a star, and it stings in return. I drag my hand away, muttering apologies, and cradle the wound against my ribs, swallowing back my words.
walking is hard, sleeping is hard, moving is hard, breathing is hard.
I'm not going to get any better.
I long for that shower, but I'll stay in the mud. I'll roll in it, until the dirt sticks under my nails, painting them mocha. I'll have grass for hair, beetles for eyes, and a worm for a thin smile. I can't wash this away anymore.
I'm but a drumset playing in an empty room, falling out of tune, angrily bashing myself in until I'm nothing at all but unrecognizable pieces, floating away with a whisper.
I take a drag of the world, it corrodes my lungs, and yet I dare not cry out in pain, there's no room for that right now, I have to exhale.
but with the breath comes my guts, pooling out and piling onto the ground, wetly smacking against one another like slabs of meat, wriggling like snakes, hissing as if it were a spark doused in water.
I'm being emptied out, to make room for something else, perhaps the hit will create a new little ecosystem, maybe they'll create serotonin enough to fill me.
I'll rot, and the maggots will dance across my flesh, digging until they find something worthy to feast upon, spreading the flesh with their want, I'll be a part of something that lets creatures live, and then I'll one day become something worth loving, saving, caring for.
but for now, I'm nothing but a sensitive overdramatic piece of complete ****, sitting alone in their room with music no one gives a **** about on repeat, praying to the Gods and Goddesses their girlfriend calls them so they don't **** up their arm again. but there's no ringing, just the drum alone in the white room.
EmilyBatdorf Oct 2020
You know what they say about bleeding hearts.
Should’ve walled it in,
stitched it up from the start.
Shouldn’t be such a basket case
carry worry and pain
in every line of your face.
Should’ve walked upright
line your eyes,
keep your smile light.
Lock your heart inside
and if it leaks,
be sure to pin a smile,
on your cheeks.
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2020
If you wish
To touch

Touch me with
Your soul
In light
In dark
And in between
What no one else
Ever has

And I will
Embrace you
With a fragrance of love
You deserve

I'm lotus
An open universe
Genre: Inspirational
Theme:  Sensitive
Needles pressing on my neck
waiting for the skin to break

Needles pressing on my eyes
trying to reach the soul

Needles stuck into my ears
this hurts more than they know

It's not their fault
it's not my fault
it's no one's fault
just breathe
relax
relax relax relax

Needles going up my nose
too much
too much!

The needles slowly break my blood brain barrier
become my very existence
i pop
Piyah Jun 2020
Oh, shes so dark,
Oh shes got acne,
Oh shes so ugly,
Oh shes so fat,
They all cooed into her ears as they pushed her off the roof,
Then they gathered around the coffin asking
But she had everything, why this?
Next page