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why do I keep looking for unhappiness
why do I look for things to upset me
am I broken
how do I fix me
how do I mend the pieces that you made
without cutting my hands open
stopdoopy Jan 2019
Coming from the mouth of hate
A deep green ink tumbling out
With those **** red petals
Having been stained by the blood
Spilling into vile words of suffering
Twisting this way and that
As if alive- slithering into place

I would plunge the dagger
Deeper still into your chest
Turning it and slicing on either side
Until I could reach in and pluck
That beating ***** from the cavity
And hold it in my hand, so tenderly
Just as I always have been with you
And then crush it in between palms
Applying more pressure until
The pain is unbearable and then
Maybe you will have felt
What you've put me through
The line about the petals is reminiscent of my poem "Unrequited Love" and both pieces are about the same person.

This one came from the feelings of when you *****- the rising bile, acrid smell, acidic bite, the retching, and the tears.
zb Sep 2018
i wish i could see myself through your eyes
and convince myself i'm beautiful
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
come if you're thirsty, come if you're stained
come if you're weary, come if you're pained
come to the water, the bread and the blood
come to Christ's soul-saving covenant flood
there's no one too *****, no one too poor
no one too broken whose faith He'll ignore
come if you hear Jesus calling your name
come to be free of all guilt and all shame
come if you're willing to cast out old strife
come lay your burden and take up new life
~~~

"'Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.'"  
~ Matthew 11:28-30

"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"  
~ John 4:13-14

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. He who comes to Me will never go hungry, and he who believes in Me will never be thirsty.'"  
~ John 6:35

"On the last and greatest day of the Feast, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, 'If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.'"
~ John 7:37-38

"'I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in Me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from Me you can do nothing.'"  
~ John 15:5

~~~
Elizabethanne Sep 2018
I am seventeen years old
And I’m sitting at the bottom of my tub.
I’ve cracked my wrists open like the windows in my room-
I’m trying to let some light in
I need to breathe fresh air into my body.
this is the only way I know how
I have closed the curtains,
boarded up the doors.
you had a key
And you trekked in mud and pine needles from the giant spruce tree outside.
I pick them out of my hair
And line them up on the side of the stained porcelain tub.
I am thinking of putting out a foreclosure sign in my front yard-
Abandoning these halls and leaving everything but this stained tub behind.
Seventeen is hard and rough,
It had calloused hands and it took things from me I wasn’t ready to give.

- I am twenty now
- And I’ve redone my home and tore out the stained tub
J Aug 2018
I guess there is that
kind of beauty
in this world;
when the flawed
and broken shards
are picked up
and pieced together.

Though it sometimes  
require bleeding cuts
and punctured hands..

..it's all worth it.
it's all worth it.
B Chapman Jul 2018
Do they see the insanity
hidden in my eyes?
Does instability consume their brain
the way it does mine?

I won't put the gun in my mouth,
I don't care how a bullet might taste.
I'd put it to my head,
that's where the problems play.

I can't pull the knife across my wrists,
I'd become enamored by the red.
I won't plunge the blade into my chest,
my heart is my son's, always his.

But I need to escape my head.
I can't continue just to exist,
detached but for moments.
there's no drug capable of healing
     this.
Lily Mar 2018
Stars shining bright above you.
Snowflakes flying all around you.
The beautiful stillness,
The heavenly harmony of silence.
Your mittened hand dangles shielded from the cold,
Having once been exposed,
Never wanting to face the torture again.
Once the snow hits the dirt,
It will never be the same again,
Forever tainted by the unclean ground.
Once you step on the ****** snow,
It will never be pure again,
Forever changed by the footsteps
Of those who have harmed the innocence.
But when the snow melts, and was there
Ever any snow there to begin with?
Was there innocence, joy, laughter?
Or was it all swept in on a winter wind,
As temporary as the season itself,
And borne away just as quickly?
Is there anything to hurt, to harm?
To taint?
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