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I long the happy silence,
of satisfaction.
The silence you get,
when everything is right.

But, I won't get it,
as long as I refuse,
to ever change,
from this monster,
to something salvageable.

I refuse,
to become one of you,
not because of the results,
but, for it meaning,
that you finally "fixed me"
Just like you wanted.

So for you,
I'll never change.
You really wanna be me?
That's the first mistake you'll ever make,
on this long horrid road.
But, don't let me scare you,
at least not yet,
fore this path has only just begun.

Step 1:
You've gotta learn that you hate yourself,
you might seem beautiful to others,
but, your not.
If you wanna be me,
you need to open your inner negativity,
and see the disgust,
within what you once found pure.

Step 2:
Disappoint your family.
Yes,
truly shocking isn't it?
Breaking the hearts,
of the same very people,
who will be the only ones,
standing at your grave.
But, you started this path,
knowing it wasn't going to end well.

Step 3:
Ruin everything that's going well for you.
You have friends?
Well not anymore.
You are happy?
Here's some depression,
and let me add some social anxiety in the mix,
let see if you can get there,
to the end of this step.

Almost there,
Step 4:
Constantly lie to everyone,
tell them your fine,
even though looking at this,
you can't be.
Even i'm not,
so how could you be?
Show them a smile,
when you have tears in your eyes.

If you have made it to this final step,
I am proud,
yet worried for you,
and your mental trauma your going through.

Step 5: The Final Step
Now,
you need to survive this,
for the rest of your life.
You might think this is the easiest step.
Trust me it's not.
And if you do,
I am not just proud of you,
I am applauding you,
for doing something i'm barely able to do.

If you have made it here,
to the very end,
I say good luck,
giving you all my wishing,
that at least one of us,
will last forever.
I'm okay everyone. I'm just tired.
The sticking points losing their touch
We used to dive into drops of rain
“My pen hits paper and I
drop the things that had
fallen onto my shoulders.
I grab a piece and admire,
I lay it under microscope
in the hope
it will quiet my mind.
I push the pen harder,
etching words into paper.
I write about the weight.
It keeps me sane.

If only it lightened the load.”

A.V.
RRey May 13
BY A BOY WHO CHOSE SOLITUDE

I never craved penthouses kissing the clouds,
nor mansions where silence feels cold.
I worked through storms,
not to rise above the world—
but to step away from its roar.

All I ever wanted
was a wooden hut in the hills—
where rivers laugh like children,
where the wind hums forgotten songs,
where rain feels like the sky washing off
what hurt the most.

The sun…
a father’s hand on my shoulder.
The moon…
a mother watching over dreams.

In cities, I wandered,
craving their lights,
but never their noise.
I loved them—
the quiet ones, the old ones,
where people moved like whispers.

But even there,
I couldn’t find the silence
that lets you hear yourself think.
So I built it—
in my mind first,
then in the earth beneath my feet.

Why?

Because I needed a place
where my voice echoes back to my ears,
so I know I still exist.
So I know I still feel.

I am tired of competition.
Of proving.
Of performing.
I want a life like a straight line—
not because it's boring,
but because it's honest.

And love?
I stopped chasing it.
Because no one holds hearts like I do.
And mine—
it’s not made for games.

It's fragile.
Like sunlight on still water.
It breaks quietly.

So I gave it back to the only hands
that never dropped it—
my own.

In solitude,
I found my teacher.
My shelter.
My self.

Now I know what I want.
Now I know who I am.
And when I sit, alone, under the rain,
I don’t feel empty—

I feel home.
It's a poem about my desires, my dream...
Mariah May 9
I love this
And I love you

I'm trying to do things
That are hard to do

I hate myself sometimes
That's not a crime

But I guess it should be
When I'm the only one who doesn't
Always see

I am ******* great
And that's no mistake
I worked and worked and worked
Even though I only saw
a doomed fate

I want this so bad
I want to be myself
I want to live a life
That's not just on a shelf

I am who I am
I always have been
Its been my mistake
Forgetting that I am so purely myself
That it can make others revolted
And so they revolted

Throwing stones
And words so solid so heavy
Id never shake them off
Id always carry those bruises

I forget that I am
So unrelenting
I forget that I am
So persistent
I forget that I am
A survivor
As much as I am
A victim

I am who I am
And sometimes that has been
Bad on purpose

Ive tried new things
I've begged for forgiveness
I've back peddled
I've changed my mind

I look back
And I wonder how no one noticed
How I was bad on purpose

And that's one of the best parts of me
I don't care
Because I care so much

I'll find my happiness myself
I'll find my worth myself
I'll find my path myself
I'll find myself myself

If I need to scratch and claw
And cry and scream
And fawn as much as I fight
I'll do whatever I need to
To live my own life

Just as long as I can sleep at night
Or during the day
Or for only an hour
As long as I can
Whenever I can

I appreciate my life
When I'm trying to end it
I appreciate the struggle
When I am begging for it to stop

I love the light
I love the dark
I love them both
I love it all

I love it the best
When it's bad on purpose
I just wanted to see how much I could get out without deleting anything or thinking too hard
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