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Viseract Mar 2016
It's not that I'm cold
That I'm heartless
Or ignorant.

For one thing,
My passion for life
Burns bright enough to warm
My whole being,
My mind and soul.

For another,
I am heartless
Because a certain someone
Ran off with it
Yet I still care
For certain things

And lastly,
I'm not ignorant
At least, not fully.

I just selectively ignore
Those who are not worth more
Than a warning

So here's one:
Back off
AM Mar 2016
just like Groundhog Day
he's repeating the same warning;
the reasons of our undoing,
a parachute to keep us from falling
Lukas Mosley Feb 2016
Depression is gradual,
It doesn't start off looking in the mirror and thinking 'I hate myself'
It's more like every day you get worse and worse until eventually you realize how many times a day you fake a laugh,
It's the times you wanted to curl up into a ball but instead you fake a smile and act normal.

Depression is not self harm,
It isn't defined by the number of scars you have or how deep they are,
It isn't the nights spent crying or how your home life is,
It's feeling tired all the time and having this hole in your chest that no amount of fake smiles can fill.
It's nights spent staring at a wall or constantly sleeping because nothing is worth doing.

Depression is not romantic,
It can't be cured with a few hugs and I love you's,
It isn't scars to be kissed or bruises to be caressed,
It's nights spent alone even when there are people beside you,
It's emptiness and realizing that all of those things you used to do, that you used to revel in, aren't worth it anymore.

Depression is real,
It isn't wanting attention or someone to tell you everything will be fine,
It isn't wearing short sleeves so people notice your scars or telling everyone how sad you are,
It is looking at the casket of one of your friends because we didn't notice it, because no one saw the signs,
It's a noose around your neck 24/7 because that's all you can think about,
It's emptiness and loneliness,
It's sleepless nights but sleep filled days,
It is the worst feeling in the world,
Depression is real and depression kills
I wrote this about my own depression and I got my friends to describe what depression felt like to them. Sorry if this is sad but it's the truth. I hope no one feels triggered by this.
ZT Feb 2016
Though as innocent as she looks,
                An evil deception she cooks.
Plotted events,
                she disguised as Destiny
Flaunts her perfect body,
                But behind the curtains counts every calorie
A hint of arrogance,
                while saying "I'm just ordinary"
Compliments given
                As a product of her calculating eyes
Thus your ego being fed with her lies

Her hidden smirk,
                 Behind her pretentious worries
Those men, they fell, to her made up stories...
Some girls though they look innocent...  They could hide something you wouldnt want to believe thay have.
Ju Lia Feb 2016
They call her the artist
Not because she’s in the art room day after day
But because her body is her canvas
And her blades are the deadly paintbrushes
Her easel is a mirror
Her mistakes hit the shower tiles
In a methodical and predictable drip
Her paintings are not clean
White tiles stained red,
Silver blade meets blue vein meets crimson pain
Her masterpieces are aggravated lines of flesh
Lines on her hips but the word ‘***’ on parted lips
Translucent tears on flushed cheeks,
The desire to be numb overpowering everything
Eyes fluttering closed as the water stings the wounds
Her cuts forming a maze to get lost in
She wanted her life to be like Starry Night
As compared to The Scream
‘An artist is an artist is an artist’
She murmurs
As the blade falls from her hands
Trigger warning: self harm, depression, homophobia
EMPstrike Feb 2016
"He will never change."

You hold, in light, true what was said.
If he cannot change, then is it you, instead?

Subject of controversy,
Burden to mercy.
Why are you sure
When it's happened before.

What once was there, you loved it so.
Is it gone now? Where did it go...
"He will never change."
Then what did?

Boredom.
Fatigue.
You will be there forever.
We will see.


"He will never change."
Perhaps he never will,


And if he never did?
Brianna Feb 2016
Tomb raider movies
The Titanic
Men on the street who look like knives and cars
Cigarettes
The smell of cigarettes
The taste of cigarettes on someone's lips and tongue
Wooden stairs that descend into the ocean
**** smith
Tea (especially Earl Grey)
The smell of his room
Someone with the same name
The movies
Car kisses
Neck kisses
Casual thigh touches
Chess
Classical piano music
The corner chemist
The Greek restaurant we never got to go to
The underneath of bridges
Anyplace we kissed
Baskin Robbins
Goldstein's
Sherlock Holmes novels
The word beautiful
Rose St
Those ******* shoes
Iron Maiden
Christmas songs
Sometimes I don’t even need a trigger
My brain goes numb with the thought of you...
Mikayla Feb 2016
Never tell the girl with messy hair and wide eyes that when her father sexually abused her they were, "fooling around." Fooling around is a consensual act between two lovers, friends, or strangers in which both gain pleasure and to make her feel as though that is something she did is degrading and destructive. She's already been through that once.
When I got that anonymous question asking me "why is it when you fool around with your dad, no one gets in trouble, but when I do it I'm a ******?" I almost snapped. The smell of cheap beer formed under my nose and the entire contents of my stomach almost fell to the side of my bed, however, I had not eaten enough to push all of my mental instability out of my mouth. I could feel my father's hands around my wrist, pulling, pinning, calloused hands scratching my nine year old skin. I could hear my young cries for help, and the tears staining my cheeks. I could feel the air on my ear as he whispered. "Tell anyone and it'll be worse next time." I remembered cleaning my own blood from the carpet that afternoon.
And I almost replied with a defensive remark, but I stopped. There was no need for this private matter to be put on display on a social media forum, because then who's the girl that "fooled around" with her father?
But then the question, it irks me to my very core, the reason my hands are so swiftly typing this poem between waves of hurricanes in my eyes. It's as if my dignity has been stripped from me again, no more layer of scar tissue to protect even the deepest layers of my darkest secrets. Nothing was safe anymore.
And when I showed it to my boyfriend, the look in his eyes terrified me. It was as if someone had just dropped a match on a mile long pile of bone dry trees doused in gasoline. But someone had. Someone had dropped a match on me, just as fragile and capable of burning up completely.
Never tell the girl with messy hair and wide eyes that when her father sexually abused her they were, "fooling around." Fooling around is a consensual act between two lovers, friends, or strangers in which both gain pleasure and to make her feel as though that is something she did is degrading and destructive. She's already been through that once.
Pauline Morris Feb 2016
You act as if you hadn't a clue
You act as if I hadn't talked to you
You act as if I hadn't tried till in the face I was blue

I did, I tried
I did, but you only sighed
I did,rivers of tears I cried

Why are you such a *******
Why is your agony dispread
Why did you not listen and ended up mislead

I beckoned you to come near
I beckoned you so I could make it clear
I beckoned you but you only looked at me with that sneer

So I let you do it your own way
So I let you become the prey
So I let you crumble in just mere days

Now i'll just set and watch
Now I'll just set while all of it you botch
Now I'll just set as you make another notch

If only you had not just listened but heard
If only you hadn't let things get so blurred
If only you hadn't acted so absurd

I sat and I watched you expire
I sat and I watched as your situation got dire
I sat and I watched as you set yourself on fire
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