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I wanna scream this pain
Throw it to the room through my vein
Like thunder in pouring rain
Asante' Feb 2019
Pinch me
so I'll feel the pain.
Hurt me
'til I go insane.
Maybe then
I won't refrain
and end this
numbness
in my vein.
Tiger Striped Jan 2019
before you
my mouth and pen were dry
now poetry
rushes through my veins
pours out of my fingertips
flows from my mouth
you keep my head spinning
with words
and i need more and more and more and more of you
'Failing t-t o'
She has 1 regret before she closes her eye's forever, 2 night, she wishes she could take back that moment after she found that razor blade, she shoulda burned that bottle of sleeping pills and never filled the tub up with that water. Well now it's a lil too late, and she can't stay awake, Everyone that promised to be her savior turned out a lil too fake, She can't lift her head now and yet she can still feel the pain where she cut her vein with the **** old blade. Yet she still feels the same, cold and all alone but her rhymes are failing to: my rhymes are failing t-t o
~SacredInkedBlood same as  
Author Ven J. Author.
VenJencie Clifton Arnold
Please know there is help for you if you can ) to this poem at all. It never has to end this way for anybody.
Click on any link below and God does love you. You are worthy and you are good enough but just get help to realize it yourself and to get help to act on it. Blessings to you al
Suicide Shatters Families
Suicide Prevention Awareness
Saint Audrey Oct 2018
Who carries enough weight already
Shoulders taught, bowing backs under
The extent that is already carried
Strength born from what was torn asunder

That the burden we all place
From misguided necessity
Would hardly disrupt their pace
Sheltered from all uncertainty

A true hero, to save us from ourselves
To walk their fragile line, keeping us afloat
Lest we drown somehow, in our own murk
Shifting, grounding

Shouting out our names
From somewhere behind us
Furthering our doubt
While always reassuring
Keeping us in place
Granting us our freedom
To ignore what we came from
Picking up our broken remnants

Engorging always
To feed a toxic ego
Reaching out ahead
Affixing our alluring
Goal, so we would miss
How it's come to be
What we would achieve
If given half a chance

I guess we'd be indignant
Should we shoulder burdens
Similar in scope
To struggle with the truth

Internalize the world
How it is, not how we'd like it to be
Or how it's been perceived for us
cait-cait Sep 2018
disconnected ,
my torso has been torn from my legs
and i lay in pieces, separated
miles apart ,,

wires, like silver veins,
stem from plants
and flowers,
like
little golden ropes .
a noose around a garden *** ,
and
a robot without its head
.

they always say that love is blind ,
but i think love
must be cruel —
for she dressed me in red and then
left me to die,

and you know..
a tea kettle who boils
also screams ...
heard about that suicidal artist who handcuffed himself to a tree and then died. That’s what love is like. Maybe I’m just reading too many depressing things lately.
Haylin Aug 2018
I despise social media.
It's ugly, to state the obvious
Our lives are posted, re-tweeted, altered, re-blogged, perfected, and photo shopped to exactly how we want to be perceived
We have the freedom to be exactly what they want us to be.

It starts with a few edits doesn't it,
pigmented our skin to seem smooth and sun kissed,
that would seem most acceptable right?
Maybe an extra like for the skinnier waist.
More reassurance for brighter colors.
Some more filters will hid the emptiness you feel with your friends
   Another like
Flashier clothing, phones, shoes, cars, other simple words our eyes have latched on to
     Another like
We urge ourselves to portray the life of leisure and effortless beauty, happiness, success,
       Another like
But what are we enjoying?
         Another like
Views of our changing world through a 3 by 8 view.
           Another like
Events pass by swipe
             Another like
and swipe
               Another like

And when we managed to unlock ourselves from this grasp
We always come back
Like flies to light, more like scratches to a scab
Festering we find ourselves getting ****** back in
To an imaginary world, that if destroyed, would have no physical effects on their fictional beings
For without this world, maybe eyes will open
We will step past the boundaries,
and start to love our beings
unfiltered
Genevieveish Jul 2018
A deep breath escapes his sinking ribs,
A quiet captivating abandon
Under a crisp cool cloak,
His deep veined arm stretches over my shoulder
Wrapping my figure,
An inert force flexed under my cupped palm
Effortlessly pulling and pinning me,
His assets kept safe under silent supervision.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2018
These thoughts have no voice
As they rot in my mind
poisoning my body
as they flow through my veins.
But they are safer here
than in the hands of others.
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