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Arionna Apr 2018
He tells me that cliche again about van gogh and his yellow paint. He says i’m an artist like that. i’ll find my yellow paint. my salvation. how i scoop out hope.
i want to tell him i already have. the ugly things i shove inside myself trying to find happiness even if it kills me. my yellow paint has been entire cakes, has been sixteen shots, has been strangers i kissed and forgot, has been eating too healthy, has been eating nothing at all, has been dark nights i swaddled myself in, has been speeding on black ice, has been everything i could think of that would make me feel anything at all for once in my life. i wonder if i die like this they’ll say it was beautiful. they’ll talk about the poet who used the sharpest things in her life to carve the joy out of herself - they’ll say, oh, she knew it was toxic but she wanted to put the happiness inside of her again. she ate only captain crunch because it reminded her of her childhood, isn’t that so cute? well obviously it’s sad she’s dead but how romantic is it that she loved birds and flowers and once debated eating poison. how will they paint my ending. she unbuckled herself on highways because she wanted to be one with the sky. she refused to look before crossing the road because she believed in fate. she was a wonderful girl and will be missed while we wear socks with her face on them. van gogh ate yellow paint. we say he was trying to put the good back into him. but i’ve slammed myself against the ground trying to get death to stick. i know what self harm is when i see it.
I don’t like writing notes
Druzzayne Rika Apr 2018
Do our true selves come out
     when we are angry and screaming so loud,
we look no different than a monster
      to everyone walking by?
Are we really this ugly in reality?
Manda Apr 2018
Once I was in a place to shed a tears
of the silent scream I don't let anybody know
to watch them all laughing,
as the agony I feel
for the invisible tears
rolled down my cheek

they laughed at me,
for always
at the sight of myself
and that's the truth
for what the lie is
I smiled at them in return
E McNamara Apr 2018
I scream at her.
I tell her she's ugly
And too loyal,
That she doesn't work hard enough.
She is not enough.
She is nothing.
I wail at her
That she is too open,
Too soft,
Too forgiving.
That everything she gets
She deserves.
I scream awful tears and hit her.
She shatters-
I stare at my bloodied hands and broken mirror.
I am nothing.
Part 2 will be about gaining confidence. :)
Amanda Kay Burke Mar 2018
I am sick of your degrading
Constant constricting critique
You take criticism way too far
Tired of the negative words you speak

So stand there in your self-righteous glow
Throw ugly insults in a slur
The burning words you know I despise
That I am a little too much like her..
This was written a long time ago, it is written to my brother, and her is my mom.
sunflower Mar 2018
I once called myself a moon.
For how I felt each and every hole,
in my soul.
Silence in night,
when I was out.
Pretended to shine bright,
in the darkest sky.

I was the moon.
I was ugly.
I was dark.
I was alone.

But now it's daylight.
I am replacing the sun.
For when I realised that I am changing into a better version of me. I've been fixing myself these last few months. It was a great journey. My loves, please remember. It will always be the clearest sky after the loudest storm.

ㅡn.s
Benji James Mar 2018
Hey, hey, been racking my brain
Thinking of something to say
about my confusing sexuality
Sorry for leaving you guessing
because not figuring it out
gets kind of depressing
Am I right, or am I right
Not sure I can't decide
Don't think I'm Bi
All of this thinking
Is hurting my head
So let me put it this way instead...

Doesn't matter if I'm straight or gay
Don't get laid anyway
Every time I try, get the evil eye
Looks like another night
For Me, myself and I
It's alright girl, always get the same reply
Thanks for giving me a little of your time
To ask the question, if you're interested in some sexin'
Thanks for a little of your attention
Thanks for your rejection
It's just another night
For me, myself and I

And my Pornhub search is very extensive
Lucky I'm not a subscriber,
that would probably be expensive
Premium's what you need, Nah not me
I like it like I like my women, free.
And this attitudes why you aren't getting any
Sorry just a guy with a little decency
Can you hear me on my ***** frequency
And imagery plays in sequence
And ****** thoughts become more frequent
I'm a bad, bad, bad boy
And lately, all these ****** references are flying out my mouth
Better get the soap and wash it out

Doesn't matter if I'm straight or gay
Don't get laid anyway
Every time I try, get the evil eye
Looks like another night
For Me, myself and I
It's alright girl, always get the same reply
Thanks for giving me a little of your time
To ask the question, if you're interested in some sexin'
Thanks for a little of your attention
Thanks for your rejection
It's just another night
For me, myself and I

All these ****** jokes
Got my colleagues rolling there eyes
Just kidding, they're laughing on the floor
With this little creeper
It's all right girl, I won't hassle ya
So you can hustle my heart
break it, so I can turn it into art
Think I just set a new bar
A new record has been set
Not sure, I'll ever top it
Just like I can't get on top of anyone
That's why I'm left singing
Not pretty enough
And if you got that reference
I salute you
Don't laugh, because it's true

Doesn't matter if I'm straight or gay
Don't get laid anyway
Every time I try, get the evil eye
Looks like another night
For Me, myself and I
It's alright girl, always get the same reply
Thanks for giving me a little of your time
To ask the question, if you're interested in some sexin'
Thanks for a little of your attention
Thanks for your rejection
It's just another night
For me, myself and I
emptysuitcase Mar 2018
I guess this is the age
where it really stings to be someone
like Me:
Short, plump, and hella ugly.

It’s funny how I hopelessly search for Love
when I can’t even look at the mirror,
without bursting into tears,
and wondering when I will first learn to love myself…

“You’re ugly.”
the girl whispered.
Quivering eyes.
A dull stare.

I search for Love in him.
A person I’ve known for long.
He does not know me—
not the way I want him to,

perhaps being a bystander is not always a sin.

It’s funny how I seek comfort
as I witness that beautiful grin,
when I can’t even feel at home
in my own ******* skin.

I scratch and try to rip myself,
trying hard to tear down that guise of mine.
Funny how I never realized that
this mask has fermented through Time.

Now,
I’m struggling to live with it.

I know I’m speeding straight into darkness.
Eternity was actually never really my thing.
The driver was always cursed by me,
Funny how I didn’t bother to check the mirror,
for I knew I would’ve recognized those quivering eyes
staring back at me.

I would’ve recognized…
The driver was me.

~emptysuitcase~
I kinda ****, I don't know. This **** is what I write when I'm not able to fall asleep, so I really don't care about the grammar or whatever. It's basically raw feelings in words. Please do given me feedback and ask me anything y'all want. I'm new so pls be nice :)
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