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Johnnyqu33r May 2
Saccharine manic pixie dancer
Holes in her nose and in her teeth
Hands outstretched above her head
Reaching for stars and relief

Saccharine disassociated baby doll
Spending days declining asleep
Whispering about her pain and dreams
Until she can stand tall just to fall again

Saccharine neon party princess
Well rested and preparing for the chase
Lips on lips and nose pretty powdered
Dosed eyes close heavy after sunrise
Inspired by a song
Kaliya Skye Mar 28
I thought it was mean, but I guess it was true
He burned down the bridge, but claimed it was you
I still recall, the blurred window view,
Aching and frozen, with nothing to do.

I wasn't battered; not beat black and blue,
But I cried out your name after it was through.
He smirked as he joked; said you'd laugh if you knew
That I had been used by not one man, but two.

I'm never plastic, but melt in the flames
I'm tired of crying, and tired of games.
I don't want pancakes at 3am,
I don't want to hold your hand.

I wasn't battered; not beat black and blue,
But I cried out your name after it was through.
He smirked as he joked; said you'd laugh if you knew
That I had been used by not one man, but two.

You can pretend that I've lied, so you like who you are
But I'm gonna have my first taste of EMDR.
You can go put those improv skills to good use,
Or you can listen to the email I sent, is that enough proof?

I wasn't battered; not beat black and blue,
But I cried out your name after it was through.
He smirked as he joked; said you'd laugh if you knew
That I had been used by not one man, but two.

Think I want power? As if I need a crown.
You called me a monster, you made me a clown.
So thanks for the comic, but no comments please.
The real plague was you, and I'm sick of disease.
You didn't deserve the card that I wrote, the tears from my eyes, or the words from my throat. You didn't deserve all that I gave to you. You blamed me for things that I couldn't do. (just about 2 weeks from a year ago)
Sarah Delaney Mar 22
He treats me like a Queen,
Still I can’t help but wonder if he will be like you too
Funny how I am afraid of what he might become yet the most comforting place I’ve ever been is his arms.
I look to him for protection yet I fear him and what he might do,
He’s never given me a reason to doubt him but most of the men from my past life haunt my thoughts, spreading lies like wildfire
I run to him, almost as if being attracted by a magnet, it’s out of my control
I cringe whenever he takes his belt off,
I know he would never hit me yet the memory of leather striking my skin like a whip,
My mother’s hands pounding on the door and her dread-filled screams,
lingers in the back of my mind like a nightmare I cannot escape from
Now that I am older it’s easier to understand she knew what he was capable of,
She had been in my position before,
She never told me as a child because I had this glorified image of him,
He was the first man that seemed like he wanted to take care of us and love us,
I viewed him as a father and even called him Dad
He had just loved his alcohol and cigars more than his love for us
I sometimes start to think about what our future children will look like,
But I stop in my tracks because that evil voice in my head asks “what if he turns out like him”?
Will it always be like this, I fear
Raven Mar 11
Do you ever just
Sit on the bathroom floor
Staring at the blades
Hoping someone will know
Maybe send a text that will save you
From bleeding tonight

Do you ever just
Lay in bed
Wondering where
Everything went so wrong
Wondering why you are so hard
To love

Do you ever just
Go for a walk
And wonder who else is
Walking around lonely
Wishing to run into another
So that maybe they can be the one
To save you from yourself

Do you ever just
Drown in music
Staring at the roof
The stars
Or the ground beneath your feet
And wonder how many others
Feel the way you do
Or if you're the only one
Whose at the limit tonight

Do you ever just
Wish to be on the moon
But with no air to breath
So that you can finally
Die in peace
its boughs, so large and heavy
but its leaves lean to the wind
just as sadness marches steady,
to the beat one’s starts to sing

winds that cause the willow branch to groan,
pluck like harp strings, dry and rustling leaves
who speak of rope- over them thrown
when a weight should come to pull them,
it is not exactly known

life starts with hope,
and from there, the path is forked

life either dies with the sunset,
or sees the moon in panicked fraught

trees end in branches,
and on those branches tied-
are braids that end in knots

such as the willow, knows in its heart
those who come and see, afar
hides the body hanging from it
with its leaves and broken heart
Lee Brewer Feb 27
I drag the blade across my jagged skin
My breath is heavy and cold
Tears pour down my face as cutting never gets old
A lot is pouring out
I hate this addiction, it needs to stop now
But it can't, I can't
I cut to feel something, I hate feeling numb
It only helps for a second
This poem is kind of a look into my mind when I self harm
Nola Leech Feb 26
He punched me last week
And told me that he was joking and that's between me and him
My friends saw and helped me break it off yesterday
Today is my eighteenth birthday
And I am nothing like my mother
sylvia Jan 17
i'm always bleeding
last night i was in bed
waiting for a text
that will probably never come
and my mouth was filling with blood
over and over
it was all i could taste
i couldn't remember biting
i have sores in my mouth
from nervous chewing
but they weren't as bad as usual
but suddenly my mouth was bleeding
and i keep doing this
and i don't know why
and my psychiatrist said
it's just
social anxiety
that's all it is
she told me
i don't think you're psychotic
i can't remember
a couple months ago
i had bruises on my arms
i couldn't remember
my mouth kept filling up with blood
my finger is bleeding
i bite my nails too much
i used an x-acto knife
there was something on my nail
i had to get it off
i had to dig it out
of my skin around my nail
it keeps bleeding
my hands are cold
so i hold them together
and i keep unfolding my hands
to find blood on my palms
he doesn't care about
the scars on my thighs
and my stomach
i've always been terrified
that whoever i was with
would see the scars
and think i was crazy
unstable and not worth the chaos
i feel guilty
i feel bad for my roommate
she shouldn't have to
live with someone
with all these issues
Fey Dec 2020
The night isn't gentle anymore.
Its darkness has a vice-like grip,
shattered, unwelcome
on her fragile throat,
leading to a crimson door,
full of destructive, intrusive thoughts about
with eyes never wanting to open

The night no longer offers rest
for her shattered, melancholical, heavy head
to gently abide the terrors of
turning silver to red on her already scarred flesh,
beucase life seems to stay
just like that.

© fey (30/12/20)
inspired by LETTRE À ÉLISE | by Efisio Cross
trashcanpoetry Dec 2020
i can still hear you whispering in my ear-
raspy and deep because you smoke two packs of marlboros
every day.

when i come to visit home,
you still look at me like you're scared.
i think it's because you know the power that i hold.

you know that i have had every chance
to tell these people what you did to me-
and i chose not to

not for you
for me.
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