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I'm losing myself again, wondering where I went. Wondering who I am without HIM. He takes my money, gives me sanity, dulls my emotions, lets me deal with "life". This is the end, as the tears won't cease, going away for 30 days, not ready for this, but what choice do I have.
Rehab.
Here I go
IsReaL E Summers Dec 2014
I have dreamed a dream
Deep inside of me
Of pulling souls from the grave
Breaking chains off the slave
Be brave.
There isn't much time left.
"JESUS WEPT"
Secrets cannot be kept
Forever.
Silence Screamz Oct 2014
We live in a world of ill reprieve,
cast into the under belly of society.

We are driven into the depths of mortal sins,
drowning in pools of ***** waste that haunt our minds.

We are forever deserted in a desolate wasteland of filth,
crawling and scratching our way to the surface just to breathe.

We are in hell's kitchen, where we are the feast
and the natives are restless and getting very hungry.

We destroyed every morsel of our well being,
we were not civilized human beings, we were animals.

We were the cause of the volatile destruction of mankind,
we dropped the words, the weapons and the bombs.

We are no more.
When they come to get us, I want to climb over the wall with you.
I want to be on your side.
The safe side.
Where they can't really hurt us,
Because you are there for your mind, and your words, and wit,
And I am there because you chose to take me with you.
11th October 2013
Kate Lion Sep 2014
sometimes it creeps into the bones in my knees and it gives me artist's arthritis
i massage myself with the dull point of a pencil,
listening to the soothing sound of my thoughts coming to life

and sometimes an idea will crawl into my ear and lay its eggs there
if my passion is warm enough, they are incubated on the inside of my skull and crack open without warning

and to clear my head of the leftover eggshells, i have to play minesweeper for days on end

wond'ring when my days will end
and if my poetry will still be breathing
Beaux Sep 2014
Take a knife
Stab me
Take a rope
Hang me
I won't stop you
I'll even help you
Take some pills
Dose me
Take a bat
Beat me
I won't stop you
I'll even help you
Throw me
Off the bridge
Take a towel
Suffocate me
I won't stop you
I'll even help you
End this life
Make it a ******
Or an accident
To save the ones
Around me
This is the end
So long and goodnight
Joseph Bucci Aug 2014
The happiness is gone
The bliss is nonexistent
And the well of dreams has run dry

What used to make me so happy
Has faded into nothing
As I feel nothing

No pain
No reason to cry
I'm not that hurt

Just a drop of dissapointment
Diluted by the satisfaction of
The "I told you so" directed at myself

My old ups and downs
Have mellowed out into
Complimentary pros and cons

I suppose this was the end
Of something great
But of something awful too

This is what I expected
And shall expect going forward
All my joy gets repaid with pain

The beautiful moon recedes
The tide pacifies
The bipolar night is over

Now I can resume living
Without burdening her scheduale
Not feeding off of her radiating bliss

My night no longer spent
Playing my mental albums of her
No longer filled her lovely smile

My morning's no longer wasted
Wishing the dreams from last night
Could come true

It's funny how love dies
How the process hurts so much
And then your reward is nothingness

There's no way to amend this
Even if one of us wanted to
It's all already over
Just another poem I wrote on a whim late at night.  Feel free to share anything that you liked or disliked about it.
ThingsWillChange Jul 2014
7/7/3030
8:22 AM

Can you hear the warning?
It roars.

Can you feel the ground?
It shakes.

Can you smell the fear?
It's contagious.

Can you taste the death?
It's coming.

Can you see the chaos?
It's here.

Goodbye old world.
Poem Two in The End Collection, A Story Formed by Poems
Shruti Atri Jun 2014
Writhing on the ground,
Battling for every breath;
She cried for the end:
But in vain, it wasn't yet time for death.

She sat outside in the blackness,
Begging for some flame;
Scared of the dark, she screamed:
But in vain, no comfort ever came.

She felt her fingers tremble in the cold,
And pleaded for some heat;
She gasped, as frost froze her to ice:
But in vain, her heart just ceased to beat.

She came here alone,
And that's how she left;
She cried for someone to save her:
But in vain, she lost her innocence to theft.

She never knew of hatred,
Still, in ignorance, it's what she felt;
She never knew of forgiveness,
But with the relief of death, all her fury began to melt.

She felt her end approaching,
Before it came at the break of dawn;
She stretched towards the rising sun,
And without another sound, she was gone.
The end of a defeated soul...
It is those things,
—those long things,
That never ends.
Never stops because
Ending will bring
About an end game
And an end game
Is not necessary for
No one wants the
End but everyone gets
The end however dreary
It maybe or how
Lonesome it is; the end is the beginning
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