Trapped in my room
There's a green hue that encapsulates the music ringing in the background from my radio
"Wo wo la la la wo
Wo wo la la
Wah wah ooh"

A rowdy football crowd cheers
And Freddie's longing cries of "But I'm no fool...It's in the lap of the Gods" slowly drown under the nonsensical singalong of it all
Or maybe not
Maybe he's unravelling the revelation that he's not alone, that he's part of this massive family swaying arm in arm, drunk on the spirit of togetherness
Unfortunately, the song explodes and the album's over
Literally
The tape ruptures and Queen vanishes

And I'm having to confront my thoughts alone
Again

"Energetically scrambling about," they whisper
"Breathlessly firing an endless volley of sarcastic and overblown ideas
Giggling at the sight of the most innocent remark that, taken out of context, becomes a sexed up funk
Flamboyantly strutting about, cheekily flaunting his charm in everyone's face
That's how most people see him
But inside
He's huddled up like a bundle of blankets, failing to ignore his loneliness like a teenager from the emo era
A child succumbing to the dreary cold
Seeing life with a deep purple blur that veils reality
(Wow, I just made a deep purple reference)
His skin cracks and flakes
He's crying at the years of torment he's been combating
See, his flippant and funny persona is something he wishes was true
He's praying that there will be no darker figure waiting in the foreground
He's praying that he won't collapse under the weight of the addiction
Praying that he won't be such a disturbed, sick individual
Praying that the images that burn like dry ice will be wiped from memory and he'll be pure again
Most of all, he's praying that he won't know the truth: there is no darker figure
He's to blame for hooking himself on years of life wasted on an addiction to...pornography
But what more is there to do other than
Leave it in the lap of the Gods
Well,
God
And hope that the mass crowd won't disappear the next time he listens to the album"

Wo wo la la  la wo
Wo wo la la
Wah wah ooh



Bang
I conceived the idea of spilling my innermost secrets while listening to Queen's Sheer Heart Attack (one of my favourite albums ever). Uhhhhhh yeah i guess
There comes a point in life
When you have to admit that
There's more sadness and pain
Than all your happiness combined

Reality can swallow us whole
If we're not careful with what we say
The things we tell ourselves and
The people that come our way

Cause I've been talking to people
Who make me feel so happy
Just trying to forget my sadness
And the things that have been happening

I'm sure you have realized this
Because making others happy
Makes us feel happy too
Just sometimes it's not what we expected

We sometimes forget that
We're not all the same
We don't all tell each other
We love them the way we want to

But the path that you choose
Right now in this moment
Makes all the difference tomorrow
When you decide to give up

Cause you didn't make an effort yesterday
Why should you make one today?
Because happiness is worth is the risk, that's why

Forget your reputation right now
Because all it does is hold you back
From getting want you want so dearly
If you want something in life you have to give everything
You have just
To get
It
Don't give up on yourself. Wherever you are struggling do everything you can to improve.  Ask others for advice on how to look at the bright side but also learn to accept facts after you are 100% sure you have given everything to that cause.
I miss being a teenager.
Like a "Real" teenager.
Where you'd play disobedient loud music in parks full of rejected youths shouting lyrics about how you hate yourself and the world.

I miss when I was unaware.
Wearing short sleeves revealing  fresh scars.
With a bottle of 2.00 cider in one hand and a cigarette your older friend sold you in the other.
I miss smoking biffs until your face turned as green as the leaves you'd smoke.
I miss laughing until you'd choke on your own spit and everyone else found it hilarious because they were doing the same.
Nothing was really funny, we were just blissfully unaware.

I miss abandoned building and hot summers days.
Climbing damp moss walls with brittle bones and bruised skin.
Scraped knees and whimsical hair over your face.
Skipping school to dip your feet in rivers the government tell you not to tress-pass on.
Lighting fires in forgotten quarries and saving captured tadpoles from the traps of the local tory schools.
Becoming passionate about the welfare of animals, but not of yourself.

I miss house parties.
The weird ones,
The ones where you'd walk into a room to see your best friends experimenting their new found sexual desires.
Girls on top of girls with their boyfriends watching in the corner?
Kind of like the 'CRAZY' pornos you'd get sent that made you feel uncomfortable inside because you preach self acceptance but suppress your own sexuality.
I miss the house parties where you'd eat biscuits off a kitchen floor whilst catching someone deep throat a cucumber in the corner of your peripheral.
Loudly oversharing the trauma of your early years, gross sobbing to people you met hours ago as they'd do the same back.
Seeing drugs for the first time not knowing the damage they can do.
Laughing at the friend that threw up from too much drink though you throw up dinner every night, but you didn't think about that.
The best friend who told you kissing each other was normal.
Then abused your innocence 3 years later.
You no longer questioned your sexuality after that.

You didn't question anything back then.  

Now you're 19 and you're still just as sad.  But a mature sad.
You hide your scars under longsleeve shirts praying no ones sees because you should have 'grown out of that by now'
You no longer smoke weed because it made your psychosis worse.
And you can't bare the thought of alcohol because you became dependant at 16. Who could imagine speaking a word of truth before 3 double vodka cokes?
You still love animals and you still hate yourself.
You've been vegetarian for 2 years but it didn't help the eating disorder.
You just gained a few pounds to shut the professionals up.
Because the professionals are still there and you fear they always will be.

You're silent now.
You can't even speak an ounce of truth of how you feel to your new therapist. You can't even confine in your friends without feeling like a burden.
You no longer attempt suicide because last year you tried one too many times in the public eye and started to get a name for it.
But it was just a 'rough year.'
You now sit with crumpled suicide notes under your bed but what's the point in even trying?
the skipping rope didn't work, trying to drown your self in the bath didn't work. The skipping rope while trying to drown yourself in the bath didn't work. And all the overdoses became a pass time.
You now think about a sustainable plan with a real outcome,
but you don't tell anyone about it.

You wake with a smile to paint the garden shed.
To think about the calories of your next meal and how everyone will think you're better off dead.
But you're growing old now you'd be best to do it soon.
Make your mum a cuppa, smoke a cigarette and calm down.
Write poetry at 3:30am,
Look at the pencil sharpener and put it back down.
Overthink and reminisce about the years of your youth.
Romanticise and glorify the most intense years of your life.
Because you don't want to think about the trauma, you want to think about the palatable self destruction.

You'll probably do the same tomorrow.
And the day after, and the day after.

You're older now, you're still just as sad.
The only difference now is you have 5 diagnosis' to the reason you acted that way, to the reason you no longer speak, to the reason you no longer sleep, to the reason you no longer go outside.

You've grown but you haven't flourished.
And you don't think you ever will.
Sing me a song,
Tell me the lyrics,
I'll sing along,
If you let me hear it.

Read me your poems,
Describe their meaning,
I need to know it,
Cause you're who I'm needing.

Come out from your shell,
Let me see your beautiful eyes,
I'm aware that you fell,
You were lost in the night.

Spray your perfume,
Spread all your essence,
It fills the whole room,
Yet no one can end it.

Explain your life,
How you've been shaped,
I just want to find you,
Cause no one else's the same.
I want to know you more if you'll let me... S.B. <3
maggie 7d
i need you
but you're with her.
when i text you
and you don't answer
that fucking hurts.
Amanda May 12
On a wooden shelf textbook waits
Harboring facts, knowledge, dates
Each year summer brings needed rest
After each final, each test.

But summer is gone and school has begun
So away with freedom, the warmth of the sun
To a teenage girl, textbook goes
What horrors await? Textbook doesn't know.

Hurled in a locker, metal slams
Smothered by a shirt that says "Go Rams!"
Shoved in a backpack, do not suffocate?
Can't miss the school bus, hurry, don't be late!

Scribbled and doodled on, "It tickles!" It screams
But teenage girl doesn't realize silence is not what it seems
Spilled soda burns; acid sweet
Bubbling suffering unimaginable heat

Left on a desk, a window so close
Pages now stick, it is so gross
With its strength the textbook flies
It has just commited suicide.
An old one I wrote for school in 10th grade
K Harris May 12
bubbles similar to the ones in my stomach when we speak
you are on the sand and im waist deep i warm thoughts
the push and pull
the way you say my name crashes over me
i can feel a tsunami about to push me over
but oh well, the sand between my toes is paradise for now
hopefully salt wont be falling from my eyes
lets enjoy this sweet ocean breeze
Simpathi May 11
I used to think I was better alone,
No people to chase,
No roses to bring home.
But all of these thoughts were from long ago.

I used to believe in this thing called love,
Hearing of all its effects, its unending sun.
But to feel its warmth actions are required.
I've fallen so many times, I've become too tired.

Chasing the highs, while falling for lows,
But I never gave up, I never let go.
Why, I'm not really sure,
I stole the energy but love I never owned.

I used to think I was better alone,
Why did I ever think I could see the light,
Through the dark cloudy smoke?

Now I'm stuck with your heart,
From your fake shiny clone.
Don't try to hide it,
Cause your lies are revealed,
Your secrets are shown.
Am I any better than when I was alone?
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