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I sit and notice you watching me
My eyes take a trip of the entire crowded room
Tracing every wall, but all they do
Is come back to you
I look at you smiling at me
In that instant my soul fills up
With sheer euphoria
I can’t help but to look down

I sit and notice you talking about me
To your friend sitting next to your grace
I act like I’m not paying any attention
Say whatever you want,
Just as long as you keep remembering me
You don’t have to call me good
You don’t have to call me bad
Just keep calling me

And when I leave, you accompany me
Of course with an ulterior motive
But then you put your arms around my shoulder
And our waving bodies bump into each other’s
You spread your arms open
I hug you goodnight, and claw your shirt
Your scented hair flush against my face
And I lay in my bed beaming

Maybe it wasn’t a good day to **** myself after all
TW: suicide
You asked me what my name was
You asked if we could dance
You asked if you could have my number
You asked me to call
You asked me to pick you up
You asked me to hold you
You asked me to wipe away your tears
You asked me to just speak nice things
You asked me to stop fixing things

I never asked for anything
And now I’m asking why
I am not made of miracles or borrowed prayers.
There is no magic in my bones or mysticism to my name.
I am made of sweat,
Of salt stains on flushed cheeks.
I am made of blood smears
And too much hand lotion.
I am made of toil and trouble,
Of mistakes and rectification.
I am composed of ink and paper,
Of ill-remembered idioms and words I've absorbed from books.
My existence is fueled by a certain brand of sock,
A teddy bear given to me at birth,
And a desire to prove that I was more than what they told me
That I could be greater than what I thought of myself.
I am made of laughter and twisted humor,
Of Murphy's law and learning to conserve energy and care.
I am made of misbehaved neurotransmitters and wild thoughts.
I have a love of the night sky and swimming in cool waters.
My soul steeped in the desire to frolic and eat sweets.
I wear scars that prove I have suffered and earn me judgement,
But I have survived a world and brain designed to be my unbecoming
Not because I'm made of miracle or magic or prayers.
I survived because I'm made of attitude, resolve, resilience,
And a thirst to prove that I can.
Most importantly,
There always seems to be a flicker of something that promises me
That even in my worst moment, I should continue to live.
Aleksey 3d
It only takes...
cut to slowly fade out.

rope to swing your life about.

train to reach the final station.

bullet to stop your concentration.

handful of pills to finally shut down.

step off a building to lay dead on the ground.

jump off a bridge to never be found.

It only takes one thought to pick one way out
And nothing can be done to come back around...
Zenoche 4d
It's hard, it's pain
Endless suffering of rain.
Nails are forced to be bit,
The blood I spit.
Like a hammer struck on my mouth,
The less drama I speak.

The spine that held me up,
Became thorns that erupt.
Only drips of intoxication,
That made me cut deep due to corruption.
Is this my only lesson?

Ghouls that made me deaf,
Friends that the only option to be left.
Am I weird? Am I acceptable?
The expectations that I am not even viable.
Words that made me vulnerable.

I never felt home,
To myself I loathe.
Things that I hid from the eyes,
Is never accepted but called lies.
Death is my only matter to discuss,
I fell in love to things they are in disgust.

I fell in love with death
My perspective in life became too vague and dark, yet finally realizing it's also the truth.
Zenoche 4d
Water is all that I can see,
It can go deep as it can be.
It isn't finite,
Like the flow of my thoughts every night.

My lungs start to ache while I drown,
The only way is down.
Choked by this emotions subdue,
'Til the time that these eyes can no more see hue.

Straight to the abyss I go,
Colder and colder, myself is my only foe.
In the ocean, only I... Was there
Me, the antagonist and protagonist of my story,
A blade against my reflection.

I lay down on the floor of the ocean
Let time erase my;

The ocean can be my saviour.
Tyler 4d
They called him
A problem child.

"Good for Nothing"

And so these words
Stuck with him
Formed his identity
Shaped his character.

Until one day
He couldn't take it anymore
So he jumped off a building
And all his problems
Seemed to vanish.
Ara Apr 2020
I spilled some blood on the bathroom floor, mama,
But I swear it was an accident.
See, my hand slipped across porcelain, mama;
My skin tore like satin.

The paint flowed like a river then, mama,
And colored me a crimson sunset.
Oh, but it made such a mess, mama,
And I know messes make you upset.

So close your eyes, mama,
'Cause you're weeping red and the tears might stain.
Red for your lost love and red for scarlet fire,
and red for the young rose cut from the briar.

Maybe now I could be poetry, mama
The type you wrote about in your younger days.
Golden sun swallowed in carmine, mama
With its last rays dying in a blaze.
Trigger warning: self harm/suicide implied.
Copyright © 2019 Aranza V. Soto Torres. All rights reserved.
Is suicide a tragedy,
or does it just save you time?
Did you really see and register the pain,
or did you just hope it would pass?
In chosen ignorance,
Like with every other ******* thing.

Death is not an easy gift to give to yourself.

Yet all you care about is the unspoken message left behind,
you make it about you - without thinking of the pain they were in.
No method would satisfy you, so we went with convenience.
To us, the tunnel was narrow and clear.

We do not owe you an explanation of our pain, what good would it do? People who have been down the same dark paths understand, and we are tired of our choices being seen as a slight against you, the family, the world. They may not have been logical, but they were every bit as valid.

We came to a conclusion with flawed evidence. But that is not what we saw. We only saw evidence. We felt heart wrenching pain.

and we wanted it to end.

To those left behind...
Let people go in peace.
Lay them to rest in silence.
"Why do they do such horrible things to themselves?"

They're depressed, Janet
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