Your scorched skin
And burnt fingers
Won't heal
With any medication
Over the counter drugs
Or elixirs
It will continue to hurt
As long as the cauldron
of boiling self hate
Inside you
Keeps searing your bones
As long as you let
your insecurities and regrets
Devour you like a devil
As long as you keep viewing your flaws
With a magnifying glass
Relentlessly condemn your every action
That couldn't win their approval
With marked ruthlessness
A gross feeling of inadequacy
Will spread inside you like an epidemic
The day you are able
To convince yourself
That you are more than enough
Worthy of infinite love
And profound affection
Let those unattainable standards
you've set for yourself
Crumble like a piece of dried earth
View your vulnerabilities
As assets instead of liabilities
That day you will heal
Completely and miraculously
Without any aggressive intervention
It would take time
Definitely
But better things never happen
In the spur of a moment
Although it is easier said than done
But believe me
It'll set you free
From the aches and pains
That you think
You're doomed to suffer
But were never meant for you to feel
In the first place
Amanda May 25
I hate to see you
Suffer so much when the love
I feel is so strong
Love can't always fix everything
eunsol May 20
i'd rather suffer,
just to see you smile and be happy.

if you were sad,
i'd trade all of my happiness
for yours,
i would.

i guess,
we're willing to do anything
for the people we love,
am i right?
sigh...
Rebel Heart May 5
...
But the second I chose
To embrace who I was
I plunged into a darkness
So thick
I lost my own reflection
...
and When I finally emerged
I saw a once-broken girl
Turn into the very demons
That tormented her
...
And she then turned
Into the very monsters
That made her suffer
In the land of supposed dreams
...
And that little girl
Was wiped from existence
Just. Like. That.
Never to be found
Ever again
(Front Page 5/5/2018)
Breakdown for now, weary child
Vain travail shall pass
The sun of languish day is setting any second
As much as jumps of joy, tempest won't last.
Dedicated to everyone struggling, everyone who has their own battles, own stories.
Raegan Meyer Apr 29
i reached other people.
i suffered with them.
i engineered warfare.
but i could not yet become the wounded person.
i never intend to quit fighting
Drinking through the time of your life
you cannot feel if you’re dead or alive
day by day you’re fading away
dance of addiction is here to stay

drink the pain away
it’s time to leave today

Taking pills to ease the pain
feeling numb, inside the shame
day by day you’re fading away
no more lies just leave today

drink the pain away
it’s time to leave today

Days to weeks, weeks to months
no fresh air to fill your lungs
Days to weeks, weeks to months
intoxication is kicking in
Miru Eirudy Apr 24
An imaginary world where anything exist.
One’s imagination it all you need.
To write is to create - an endless possibilities.
Word by word, phrase by phrase, a reality within one’s mind.
A swing of a pen and it shall become.
Line between line, a story is made.
A reality to the characters within.
A world where her story begins.
With the stroke of my pen, I created a world.
A world where my character would live.
A peaceful town, bountiful of blessings.
And thus, she was born - safe and healthy.
Continuously writing with my pen in hand.
I skipped the details until she’s nine.
Grown to be a pretty little girl everyone adores.
But now it has come - it is time to get the story done.
The enticing blank paper allures my imagination.
An empty space where everything is possible.
A swing of my pen is all I need.
And it shall be done, created, thus shall happen.
My hands moved without even thinking.
Slowly and slowly, the conflict will be done.
For out little girl, trapped inside an unknown ground.
Finding her way out, crying while calling for someone.
Seeing this in my own imagination.
I can’t help by to make her suffer more.
It is my story and she’s my character.
Whatever I wrote shall be her fate.
I moved my pen once more.
And make it rain for her to feel cold.
Enlarged the forest, and make her hopeless.
Seeing her dull eyes makes me what to hurt her more than twice.
Hearing her scream with her lifeless voice.
It is nothing but a music into my ears.
I made her more and more hopeless - a chill on my spine.
Slowly taking her life had never this so fun.
As she took her last breath, I feel empty.
I never thought my story meets and ending.
To see my own creation lived until I end it.
I couldn’t help but to think that I would like to switch places.
And now I’m back being an ordinary girl.
To which I am nothing but an average human.
Living in a world where it is bound by rules.
Where I wonder, is there a writer behind it all?
Whoever it may, I have my pen.
That’s all I need to create my ideal end.
A pen that can make anything possible.
A world where I am the character of my own.
The first poem I published publicly on my Facebook Account. :)
pk tunuri Apr 23
You may travel long
but never forget
what/who made you suffer/strong
A warrior has no birthday
Just the day he dies
He cares not where you go
He knows where he is from

A warrior has no fear
Blood wears no shame
Never hungry, never full
War always sober

A warrior is alone
This you all know
Confined by design
Ever invisible in time

You emerge from the earth
To sleep with your dreams
Avoiding the thought
A warrior you are not
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