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Lucy 15h
No One cares about this trainwreck.
No One wants this trainwreck.
No One loves this trainwreck.
EveryOne says they love me, But No One truly does.
EveryOne says they care about me, But No One truly does.
EveryOne says they want me to stay around, But No One truly does.
EveryOne says to me, "Life is better with you in it, Lucy."
But No One truly means it.
No One Wants Me Alive.
No One Wants Me.
No One Loves Me.
No One Cares About Me.
This is something that has come out of deep, deep sorrow and pain.
Water droplets marking my page
as if my tears cant be wiped away.
I'm at the end of my ability to cope
so I ready the noose and my neck for the rope.
I think of my life and all I regret
I think of memories I wish to forget.
I then try to focus on the good not the bad
the days with my kids, well the few that we had
The days when my smile wasn't a fake
and all of the decisions that I didn't make.
I think of what my life could have been
had I chosen the other path would I still have been me?
Who would I be and would the end still be now?
Could I have been someone different,
if I'd just figured out how?
And if I managed to do it,
to be someone else..
Would that person also truly despise themself?
Or would they be happy with the life they had made,
if they were able to take the path I didn't take?
Would they be a good mom who was raising her kids?
Or would my children still even exist?
How can my life really have any worth,
when everytime I try anything it never works?
I can't even get myself off of dope for my kids,
I never expected my life to be this.
That's why I'm ready, girls please don't blame yourselves.
I just can't keep on living,
when I'm creating and living in hell.
The moon is too beautiful
To do something so horrific
Under its gaze.
Written under the gaze of the waxing gibbus.
I watched my mother
struggling to inhale
and exhale her last breathes
When she started frosting at the mouth,
I kissed her warm forehead and said goodbye.

I was watching a movie when my dad walked in
and told me my brother had a drug overdose
I refused to see his loved dead body,
I was in shock as I dearly cherished him
again someone I loved exhaling a last breathe

I lost my job due to drugs and alcohol,
I'm trying to mend but mutilated my skin
I haven't left the house for over 6 months
I can't face the outside as I clash with people,
often with no intent of hurting.

That shadow is getting closer to me,
I took more than one bite from the apple tree
People I cared about are now my enemies.
tell me about a passionate spirit - I decide when not to die,
especially when dealing with suicide. waste myself, hate myself —
feeling like all the worst things. lose my thoughts, I cannot find
my mind; found a cause, held onto that knife

right now, I cannot breathe, yet still… I'll choose to live —
no more suicides.
I just want
back in the mirror.
This other side
is full of horrors.
I need that chirpy
joyous little girl
my co-worker,
who made work fun.
The shattered glass
of a sick feeling emotion
of a crumbling illusion.
I always feel death,
its bleak hollow breathe
its a shadow behind me,
whispering kitchen knife
repeatedly in my heart.
a rose garden
filled with beautiful flowers
on the surface
but inside is a tangled web of thorns
every petal another lie, another
"i'm fine, i'm ok"

topiaries in twisting, beautiful shapes
all of roses
lovely on the surface
a fairy tale come true
but that's just what it is

a story

but when the flowers wilt,
when the topiaries grow wild,
the thorns grow larger until they start to stab themselves
millions of tiny punctures
as the music plays
and the petals fall
and the thorns strike the heart
and the vines grow over the corpse
trying out a new style
the dew of my tears feels wet on tight sleeves
the sweat from my brow jumps like water in springtime
and if I could use words to describe my heart – it would
only seal away my lips

my tears are like scattering flowers
blown away by the winds – my lungs are a leafless branch
veiled in such a dry cough; choking away at my pride

nights I’ve dreamt of suicide, to live on
and tell of it lies; it was an empty void that wouldn’t fill
the belly of some hungry wild dog – and if I could speak
a fruitful prophecy for my life, my lips would be the scent of plums.
maxx 4d
you walked through the fire
& lived to tell the tale—
but now,
the smoke
still clings to your lungs,
& every breath feels
like a battle
you never asked to fight.
inspired by the quote "i survived the trauma but not the aftermath"
maxx 4d
relief
i don’t want to die,
i just want
the ache
to go away,
the heaviness
to lift,
the silence
to be kind.

i don’t want
to end it,
i just want
to feel
like i’m
breathing again.
death calls me by my full name, and sometimes I listen. but here I am.
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