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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?
ht Feb 2018
Do you remember the last day?
Not the one where our words left burns on flesh
But the one where our tentative apologies became the salve
Where forgiveness became possible
And our future was suddenly not set in stone
We stole pens and wrote our sins on sweat coated skin
Our truths sinking into every wrinkle and every fold we created
But in the morning you were gone
And in the bathroom I found a washcloth stained with ink.
Were you wiping me away? | h.t
mitus Feb 2018
Pretty Princess in Pink
Pretty Princess Don’t Shrink
Pretty Princess Stained Ink
Pretty Princess Fatal Brink

Pretty Princess in Blue
Pretty Princess Don’t Chew
Pretty Princess Mixed Too
Pretty Princess Fatal Clue

Pretty Princess in Black
Pretty Princess Don’t Crack
Pretty Princess Stained Tack
Pretty Princess Fatal Hack

Pretty Princess in White
Pretty Princess Don’t Fight
Pretty Princess Mixed Light
Pretty Princess Fatal Sight
I hope the message is clear.
Poetic T Feb 2018
Though the sentence may end,
                       the ink carries on.
The cartridge seems vacant of
                                    wanton metaphors.

Exhibiting reflections on  soiled paper cups,
                wanting to be filled
with drinkable dictations of
                              what is spelt out in stains.

But I spilt that void long ago,
                          blemishing my shirt
with what meant to be drank upon.
        A decolouration of meaning read differently.
melanie Nov 2017
a broken lover's promise
turns from an act of randomness
into one of normality
as days begin to fade along the edges

bleed me dry in the quiet moments
& take my love for granted...

I'll leave my mark when I'm gone
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