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Jenna Mar 6
Everyone wears white shoes
What's wrong with black?
With black, nothing stains
Strong in color, fierce in stride

While white is too easily
Stained by whatever touches it
Treading, becoming ***** who
swore they were pure to heart

Some people do care
to step into the dark
puddle, the puddle that
ripples in concealed rage
Tears
stain her
eyes. Clearly, she's
had better times. But
what you can't see
is her heart.

That has
already
          f
                      a
                 l
                          l
                    e
                                n

a p a r t .
n Feb 12
She wanted to remain pure,
unstained,
unpoked.
She had toyed with getting a tattoo
but realised it wasn’t
individual anymore.
But she was in need of validation.
Was she past her peak? She’s still cool right?

The needle stuck into her skin like the scent of an old lover. It left a fizzy sensation behind.
The ink spread.
She kept poking,
stabbing,
stick n poking.

What emerged was a star.

Startled,
strained by Tar,
scarred,
her sparkle faded.
My experience of doing a stick n poke tattoo of a star on myself. My thoughts on my first tattoo. I called my star tattoo Tar.
sushii Feb 4
A nasty stain,
You'll wring the curtains of me
Someday.
Matthew Jan 20
You watch as the blood from my wrist trickles onto your carpet.
Paying no mind until it starts to stain
I whisper,
"I'm sorry; please help me"
You roll your eyes and usher me out
of your comforting, inviting home
into the cold, desolate outside.
Crimson tears form in my eyes
raising my voice,
"I need your help!"
Instead, you give me an ignorant smile
before you slam the door.
An incomprehensible scream for acknowledgement exits my body
Peering through the window,
I see you cover my bloodstain with a rug.
You would rather act as if it never existed
than try to stop the blood or simply clean the stain.
I'm now outside;
being left to rot in the earth
So instead I will stain your flower bed.
Here's the meaning I got from my poem.  From personal experience, people to like to act like there's a problem with your depression or suicidal tendencies until it bleeds into their lives.  Then, they act still barely acknowledge the problem and try to erase from their lives.  They don't try to help us when we need it more than ever.  It's about what we really need.  We need someone to acknowledge that we have a problem and make strides to help that problem instead of acting as if nothing happened. The poem is saying that it's better for people to help those in pain than to be ignorant.  If you don't, then it just ends up causing the stain to get bigger and more public.
Poetic T Jan 9
Some may think where
                              stained.

But where just
          not there
               version of clean.
Van Byrde Jan 5
i don't think i like nice people
i feel guilty around them
like my past stains me still
and they see it all
Becca Dec 2018
I feel like I need to spill my feelings
into some other coffee.
Spilled soda
Sticky on the carpet
Red and glaring
Watching me.
So I scrub
So I clean
But it doesn't go away
So I scrub
So I scream
And I watch the stain
And it watches me back.
A never-ending cycle of
Scrubbing
And
Cleaning
and then I look down
at where I have been cleaning
and I see that my hands are bleeding
that the blood is not my own
and then I start screaming
I might be insane,
or sick of the mind,
but my nightmares,
don't always happen at night.
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