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#issue
I'm a vampire aching for food, Mouth watering for validation, Drawing concern from arteries, Living off worried looks. Happiness is like poison, Normalcy burning my skin. I begin to starve when things seem, Too good. When scars fade the itch for blood returns. So tell me, Tell me it wasn't right, Tell me I didn't deserve that? Tell me it was abuse, neglect. I'm begging you, Convince me, Convince me I'm not dramatic. Prove I'm a victim of my environment, And not deeply flawed from the start. If you can't, Please, Please drive a wooden stake, Through this cold and desperate heart.
0
5d ago
May 29, 2026 at 5:05 AM UTC
A **** For Sympathy
View your shadow on the wall - don't recognize it at all? Because if you can't do this you'll probably feel amiss to know who you really are. Then, if you're seen from afar and someone calls out your name you may not respond the same. ______________
0
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 9:28 AM UTC
An Identity Issue
i think im sorry. i say that i think, because i know it isn't my fault. atleast not entirely. but you're not willing to admit that you played a part in the downfall of our friendship. so i think im sorry.
0
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 9:18 AM UTC
im sorry, ..or something?
The snow falls quieter than memory, like the sky is afraid to speak. Five years later and February still remembers. The roof is still there. Still. As if nothing ever happened, as if no one stood that high with too much weight in their chest and nowhere left to stand. It was the last time it snowed until now five years later Every flake that falls now feels like an echo like he comes back in white, calmness and silence. I walk through streets that say nothing but know everything. My breath hangs in the cold the way his name once did in conversations that ended before they could begin. Snow covers what hurts, but it never erases it. It keeps it. February and this snow makes me remember. Because the cold whispers that he is here, between the falling snow, in that moment where everything stops. They call it winter. I call it a curse that returns every year Your sister looks at me like im part of before Our bond will never be the same But i cling to the snow It's you saying hi.
0
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 4:16 PM UTC
February curse
The books are closed, the exams are done,   A chapter ends, a new one's begun.   No more the rush of schoolyard days,   Now life's ahead in countless ways.   The friends we made, the bonds so tight,   Will shine like stars in the darkest night.   Yet paths will change, and so will we,   As we step into what’s meant to be.   New dreams to chase, new goals in sight,   A future waiting, bold and bright.   Though school is gone, its lessons stay,   To guide us through each step, each day.   With open hearts, we move ahead,   No fears, no doubts, just hope instead.   The world is ours, so vast, so wide,   A new beginning—let’s walk with pride! - Saish Itankar
0
Jun 15, 2025
Jun 15, 2025 at 6:57 AM UTC
Life After 10th
I hate the way my heart clenching the way myself benching I hate how I let myself to fall just to catch the ball I hate myself for letting me fall in love once again or perhaps I just hate love?
0
Jul 23, 2024
Jul 23, 2024 at 7:45 PM UTC
I Hate
"Ana wata ga wata" A Hausa proverb...
0
May 26, 2021
May 26, 2021 at 1:10 PM UTC
Ana wata ga wata
If outta all the lovers, And the plans I've made, Nothing works, maybe.. I'm the issue?
0
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 1:15 PM UTC
Прошу прощения
it's unfair to give authority to someone to make you feel a certain way
0
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 2:26 AM UTC
issue 21
today, sir, is the day to say thank you and my way to do so, ermh -- is to write you a poem i don't know about your past but your knowledge of mine is vast you knew me better than my parents and you spotted the real me during our therapy never said my "father" that he was proud of me -- but you did, you revealed in me the true kid because you have the gift to lead people to the place where their truth is; most people join the rat race, but you always kept the same pace and you made it to erase my shame, healing people is what you're here for, reliable and faithful, and regardless of any writer's fame: YOU HAVE A NAME... an inner flame of kindness glows in your soul, you released me from my blindness, and you helped me dealing with my tormenter: cole, i never felt that you played a role, i sensed you are whole, may god bless your four daughters, and i wished YOU had been my father, but thats fine: cause you became a father figure, and soon i figured that your goodness makes you richer than a person owning millions, i do thank you a billion times for being a mirror who is speaking, at our first session i shivered, but hid it, you opened me, and noted nothing down, you just listened and saved me from drowning each letter is for you, each word proves my gratitude how can you have this attitude? how do you do this? im not idealizing, yet, you're my idol, cause you taught me bout my anger, that as a child, i never had a man as a rival, i had lost my destination and you were my arrival Fakhri Khalik, you were my arrival. You stopped my denial. You are a huge part of my survival. You are my arrival, I am your disciple. Forever Yours. Max
0
Dec 23, 2020
Dec 23, 2020 at 10:38 AM UTC
Who I Became (Devoted to my dearest friend, Fakhri Khalik)
today, sir, is the day to say thank you and my way to do so, ermh -- is to write you a poem i don't know about your past but your knowledge of mine is vast you knew me better than my parents and you spotted the real me during our therapy never said my "father" that he was proud of me -- but you did, you revealed in me the true kid because you have the gift to lead people to the place where their truth is; most people join the rat race, but you always kept the same pace and you made it to erase my shame, healing people is what you're here for, reliable and faithful, and regardless of any writer's fame: YOU HAVE A NAME... an inner flame of kindness glows in your soul, you released me from my blindness, and you helped me dealing with my tormenter: cole, i never felt that you played a role, i sensed you are whole, may god bless your four daughters, and i wished YOU had been my father, but thats fine: cause you became a father figure, and soon i figured that your goodness makes you richer than a person owning millions, i do thank you a billion times for being a mirror who is speaking, at our first session i shivered, but hid it, you opened me, and noted nothing down, you just listened and saved me from drowning each letter is for you, each word proves my gratitude how can you have this attitude? how do you do this? im not idealizing, yet, you're my idol, cause you taught me bout my anger, that as a child, i never had a man as a rival, i had lost my destination and you were my arrival Fakhri Khalik, you were my arrival. You stopped my denial. You are a huge part of my survival. You are my arrival, I am your disciple. Forever Yours. Max
Continue reading...
21
He cut off his feet... But still wandered and strayed Then gouged out his eyes... But still burned for the maid Then lopped off one hand... But then saw an issue: He could not complete Sev'ring sin from his tissue .
0
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 9:24 AM UTC
He Cut Off His Feet...
Words of others were too hard to trust Every attempt at intimacy bites the dust Perhaps the issue lied with her Burried let downs makes trust a blur She thought deep down, she was incapable of love Her feelings fleeting, hard to get hold of Although she hopes to love someone different Possibly with emotions more coherent She leaves those thoughts all unspoken For who could truly love someone so broken
0
Jun 4, 2020
Jun 4, 2020 at 12:00 PM UTC
Broken
Noah is a boy of eight years with almond brown eyes and soft black hair, and he loves dragons and elephants. Right now, he and his dad Frank are sitting around their living room coffee table, a snowstorm whipping through the darkness outside the windows... “I'm here too,” a dragon says, lurking in a corner of the room in attacking position. “I am the Bewilderbeast and I'm from the children's show ‘Dragons’ – my body is as big as ten stacked oxen, and my wings are covered with sharp black spikes. My tail is gigantic and deadly. And by the way, I have blood-red eyes.” Now an elephant speaks up and trumpets: "Törööö! I am Benjamin. You may think I’m big and scary, but I am gentle. I love sugar cubes more than anything: eating them is my passion. How yummy! Otherwise, I'm the quiet type: I avoid quarrels and wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Noah and Frank want to play Uno (a card game). Frank shuffles the cards, putting the neat stack on the table while reaching for a freshly opened beer bottle. He takes it and empties it in one go. Noah follows his father's drinking movement, quietly observing. When Frank has finished, Benjamin asks: "You know what, Noah?" "What?" Noah wants to know. "Oh," Benjamin growls. "Did you just say something?" Frank asks. "No, I was just thinking out loud," his son answers, as the Bewilderbeast grumbles to him: "I hate it when Frank drinks." Then the great dragon snorts until embers like fireflies come out of his throat. They swarm around the living room and settle everywhere like glowing neon-yellow dust. "Don't like dirt on the table," Noah complains. "You're right, Noah. The cards are well-shuffled and I'm quite able to do so", Frank says after opening his second bottle. He drinks it half empty and hums, "Playing cards is great fun, you know. When I was little younger than you are now, I used to thrill and entertain everyone with my card tricks at my grandmother's wonderful birthday party." While Frank talks, Noah secretly mimics him. "Ha! That was something," Frank adds, running his fingers through his hair and licking his lips. "If only they hadn't always drunk so much. That bothered me as a child. I often lost myself in my thoughts, thinking about how to build the biggest house of cards in the world, while grandma and grandpa danced and bumped into each other causing hearty roars of laughter." Reflexively, Frank grabs the half-full beer bottle and drinks it up. "After the party, they lay drunk on the carpet," Noah says quietly. Frank doesn't seem to hear that and adds: "In the end they were laying on the carpet, drunk. Oh yes, good people, but they couldn't help their drinking." Noah repeats in a whisper: "But they couldn't help their drinking." Frank doesn't take notice; he gazes at the empty beer bottle. His thighs bob up and down and again. Frank licks his lips. "You know what, Noah?" he says. "You deal the cards. You know, eight for each player, and no cheating."   After Frank has jumped up and left the living room, the Bewilderbeast hisses: "Frank is no good, because he only talks about himself, about his childhood. But what about you, Noah? That ****** me off," he roars ravingly. He spits fire again, this time without regard for Noah, forcing him to take cover under Benjamin's belly, beside his knobby legs. The ruby-red eyes of the Bewilderbeast cut the living room's twilight with their brilliance and he spits out one fire salvo after the other, just as a flamethrower does... "Please stop!" Noah is shouting, but the dragon only responds "Forget it. Everything here must burn. We have to erase your father's memory, only then he will learn to love you. You also hate the living room, don't you? – because Frank drinks here all the time." "Don't let him fool you,” Benjamin is humming. "The wild beast spits fire, that's all very well, but breaking things... That," Benjamin yawningly mumbles "he can't do."   Then the fire subsides, while Noah crouches between Benjamin's legs, eyes wide open. Frank comes back, another beer bottle in his right hand, drinking. When he sees Noah curled up, he snorts with laughter and spits the beer in his mouth on his son. Noah does not seem to register this. Frightened, he stares at the Bewilderbeast who, in a resting position with one red eye open, is waiting for the next attack.   "Oh boy, beer's e'rywhere!" Frank slurs as he slams the beer bottle on the table and bends down to Noah to take him into his arms. **** Frank runs into the bathroom to grab a towel, and comes back, carefully rubbing Noah's hair dry. "Ew," grumbles Noah. "I hate that." Frank looks at Noah uncomprehendingly: "The hair have to be rubbed off. Don't they?" "Don't believe him", the Bewilderbeast hisses. "He's lying to you, Noah." At the same time, Benjamin is saying to Noah: "You see, Frank loves you. He's rubbing your hair off. And he feels bad about the spilled beer." Noah's face is white as a sheet. "Stop it, stop it, stop it," he whispers and covers his ears. Frank looks at his son with concern. He lets the towel down and slowly takes Noah's hands off his ears, brushes a wet hair, which sticks to Noah's forehead, from his face. "Can't look at you when you're in this state", Frank says gently. Without hesitation, he pokes Noah in the stomach with his fingers and tickles him so that Noah breaks out, first tentatively, into laughter. He tries with all his strength to shake off his father's hand, but it doesn't work, although Frank has to make funny movements to tickle him any further. The two become entangled with one another and cannot stop the laughter. But then Noah stops laughing and asks: "Daddy, why do you drink beer?" Frank doesn't seem to have expected such a direct question. He pauses for a moment and answers: "Because it tastes good. Why do men drink?" Noah shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not a man yet. But if it's good, why do you drink so fast? I always think you don't like the beer." "Well," Frank grumbles, "I don't drink that fast. What makes you think that? It’s a matter I would have to deal with more closely, it needs to be weighed up and thought through thoroughly before jumping to conclusions." The Bewilderbeast whispers furtively: "He's lying, Noah. Do not believe a word he says." Benjamin says: "Frank is addicted to beer. But he doesn't want to hurt you." This time Noah keeps calm. And he goes on to ask the next question: "Do you like it or not?" Frank's eyes roam the room like he's looking for something. The Bewilderbeast snorts quietly; Benjamin, being in a good mood, is eating a handful of sugar cubes. "Well, you know Noah – I like beer. But I used to drink it much slower." Noah looks at Frank seriously and sadly. You mean when Mom was still alive. Frank answers with his eyes. And nods, hardly noticeable. Father and son remain silent. "You see," Benjamin says: "You and dad are connected by something: By the death of your mother Ruth." The Bewilderbeast says: "Frank drinks the beer because he can't stand your grief, Noah. And he loves Ruth much more than he loves you. He wishes you had died instead of her." "Can we turn on the music, daddy?" "Which song?" "Tears In Heaven," Noah answers. "You know, by Eric..." "Clapton." Frank replies. Then he gets up and goes into the next room to play the song on YouTube. "Is the sound bar turned on, Noah?" Noah checks and notices countless glittering lights buzzing around the speaker block, sparkling like stars in the Milky Way. Noah is magically attracted by this sight, stares at the lights with his mouth wide open and reaches out his index finger... "Noah!" Frank shouts. "Is the system on or off?" "No," Noah answers. "The stars are no longer there". "What? Don't be stupid," Frank grouses as he returns to the living room. He pushes Noah aside. "Let me check it out." Frank bends down to the sound bar, fiddling with the wiring. "No wonder, Noah. The optical cable broke. Did you do that?" Noah looks at Frank, meaningful and meaningless. "You know what, dad... Why don't we play cards instead?" Frank seems unhappy and is stepping fidgety from one leg to the other, takes the beer bottle off the table and realizes in frustration that it's empty. **** it," Frank scolds, but then he looks at Noah and blushes. "I've got an idea!" Noah suddenly exclaims. "Let's make a deal, dad. You get yourself a beer." "And then?" Frank asks skeptically. "Tonight, you drink it slowly. Are you scared?" "Scared?" Frank asks while he hurries off. Shortly afterwards he returns, holding an open beer bottle in his hand from which nothing has been drunk yet. He puts the bottle on his lips, drinks the first two sips quickly, pauses, puts the bottle on the table, and rubs his stomach. "But now I have to go to the toilet, oh my." By this time, Benjamin is already asleep, a sugar cube is stuck between the tip of his trunk and the floor. Noah smiles. When his father has left the living room, Noah says, without looking, to the Bewilderbeast: "You see – Daddy loves me. Otherwise he wouldn't drink more slowly. It's that simple, isn't it?" No answer. Noah turns around to look. Where the Bewilderbeast huddled, there is now a small dragon figure. Carefully, Noah sneaks up to it, and when he feels that there is no danger coming from the figure, he holds it to his ear and whispers: "Daddy loves me, doesn't he?"
0
May 23, 2020
May 23, 2020 at 8:46 AM UTC
Noah's Fear (A Short Story)
Noah is a boy of eight years with almond brown eyes and soft black hair, and he loves dragons and elephants. Right now, he and his dad Frank are sitting around their living room coffee table, a snowstorm whipping through the darkness outside the windows... “I'm here too,” a dragon says, lurking in a corner of the room in attacking position. “I am the Bewilderbeast and I'm from the children's show ‘Dragons’ – my body is as big as ten stacked oxen, and my wings are covered with sharp black spikes. My tail is gigantic and deadly. And by the way, I have blood-red eyes.” Now an elephant speaks up and trumpets: "Törööö! I am Benjamin. You may think I’m big and scary, but I am gentle. I love sugar cubes more than anything: eating them is my passion. How yummy! Otherwise, I'm the quiet type: I avoid quarrels and wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Noah and Frank want to play Uno (a card game). Frank shuffles the cards, putting the neat stack on the table while reaching for a freshly opened beer bottle. He takes it and empties it in one go. Noah follows his father's drinking movement, quietly observing. When Frank has finished, Benjamin asks: "You know what, Noah?" "What?" Noah wants to know. "Oh," Benjamin growls. "Did you just say something?" Frank asks. "No, I was just thinking out loud," his son answers, as the Bewilderbeast grumbles to him: "I hate it when Frank drinks." Then the great dragon snorts until embers like fireflies come out of his throat. They swarm around the living room and settle everywhere like glowing neon-yellow dust. "Don't like dirt on the table," Noah complains. "You're right, Noah. The cards are well-shuffled and I'm quite able to do so", Frank says after opening his second bottle. He drinks it half empty and hums, "Playing cards is great fun, you know. When I was little younger than you are now, I used to thrill and entertain everyone with my card tricks at my grandmother's wonderful birthday party." While Frank talks, Noah secretly mimics him. "Ha! That was something," Frank adds, running his fingers through his hair and licking his lips. "If only they hadn't always drunk so much. That bothered me as a child. I often lost myself in my thoughts, thinking about how to build the biggest house of cards in the world, while grandma and grandpa danced and bumped into each other causing hearty roars of laughter." Reflexively, Frank grabs the half-full beer bottle and drinks it up. "After the party, they lay drunk on the carpet," Noah says quietly. Frank doesn't seem to hear that and adds: "In the end they were laying on the carpet, drunk. Oh yes, good people, but they couldn't help their drinking." Noah repeats in a whisper: "But they couldn't help their drinking." Frank doesn't take notice; he gazes at the empty beer bottle. His thighs bob up and down and again. Frank licks his lips. "You know what, Noah?" he says. "You deal the cards. You know, eight for each player, and no cheating."   After Frank has jumped up and left the living room, the Bewilderbeast hisses: "Frank is no good, because he only talks about himself, about his childhood. But what about you, Noah? That ****** me off," he roars ravingly. He spits fire again, this time without regard for Noah, forcing him to take cover under Benjamin's belly, beside his knobby legs. The ruby-red eyes of the Bewilderbeast cut the living room's twilight with their brilliance and he spits out one fire salvo after the other, just as a flamethrower does... "Please stop!" Noah is shouting, but the dragon only responds "Forget it. Everything here must burn. We have to erase your father's memory, only then he will learn to love you. You also hate the living room, don't you? – because Frank drinks here all the time." "Don't let him fool you,” Benjamin is humming. "The wild beast spits fire, that's all very well, but breaking things... That," Benjamin yawningly mumbles "he can't do."   Then the fire subsides, while Noah crouches between Benjamin's legs, eyes wide open. Frank comes back, another beer bottle in his right hand, drinking. When he sees Noah curled up, he snorts with laughter and spits the beer in his mouth on his son. Noah does not seem to register this. Frightened, he stares at the Bewilderbeast who, in a resting position with one red eye open, is waiting for the next attack.   "Oh boy, beer's e'rywhere!" Frank slurs as he slams the beer bottle on the table and bends down to Noah to take him into his arms. **** Frank runs into the bathroom to grab a towel, and comes back, carefully rubbing Noah's hair dry. "Ew," grumbles Noah. "I hate that." Frank looks at Noah uncomprehendingly: "The hair have to be rubbed off. Don't they?" "Don't believe him", the Bewilderbeast hisses. "He's lying to you, Noah." At the same time, Benjamin is saying to Noah: "You see, Frank loves you. He's rubbing your hair off. And he feels bad about the spilled beer." Noah's face is white as a sheet. "Stop it, stop it, stop it," he whispers and covers his ears. Frank looks at his son with concern. He lets the towel down and slowly takes Noah's hands off his ears, brushes a wet hair, which sticks to Noah's forehead, from his face. "Can't look at you when you're in this state", Frank says gently. Without hesitation, he pokes Noah in the stomach with his fingers and tickles him so that Noah breaks out, first tentatively, into laughter. He tries with all his strength to shake off his father's hand, but it doesn't work, although Frank has to make funny movements to tickle him any further. The two become entangled with one another and cannot stop the laughter. But then Noah stops laughing and asks: "Daddy, why do you drink beer?" Frank doesn't seem to have expected such a direct question. He pauses for a moment and answers: "Because it tastes good. Why do men drink?" Noah shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not a man yet. But if it's good, why do you drink so fast? I always think you don't like the beer." "Well," Frank grumbles, "I don't drink that fast. What makes you think that? It’s a matter I would have to deal with more closely, it needs to be weighed up and thought through thoroughly before jumping to conclusions." The Bewilderbeast whispers furtively: "He's lying, Noah. Do not believe a word he says." Benjamin says: "Frank is addicted to beer. But he doesn't want to hurt you." This time Noah keeps calm. And he goes on to ask the next question: "Do you like it or not?" Frank's eyes roam the room like he's looking for something. The Bewilderbeast snorts quietly; Benjamin, being in a good mood, is eating a handful of sugar cubes. "Well, you know Noah – I like beer. But I used to drink it much slower." Noah looks at Frank seriously and sadly. You mean when Mom was still alive. Frank answers with his eyes. And nods, hardly noticeable. Father and son remain silent. "You see," Benjamin says: "You and dad are connected by something: By the death of your mother Ruth." The Bewilderbeast says: "Frank drinks the beer because he can't stand your grief, Noah. And he loves Ruth much more than he loves you. He wishes you had died instead of her." "Can we turn on the music, daddy?" "Which song?" "Tears In Heaven," Noah answers. "You know, by Eric..." "Clapton." Frank replies. Then he gets up and goes into the next room to play the song on YouTube. "Is the sound bar turned on, Noah?" Noah checks and notices countless glittering lights buzzing around the speaker block, sparkling like stars in the Milky Way. Noah is magically attracted by this sight, stares at the lights with his mouth wide open and reaches out his index finger... "Noah!" Frank shouts. "Is the system on or off?" "No," Noah answers. "The stars are no longer there". "What? Don't be stupid," Frank grouses as he returns to the living room. He pushes Noah aside. "Let me check it out." Frank bends down to the sound bar, fiddling with the wiring. "No wonder, Noah. The optical cable broke. Did you do that?" Noah looks at Frank, meaningful and meaningless. "You know what, dad... Why don't we play cards instead?" Frank seems unhappy and is stepping fidgety from one leg to the other, takes the beer bottle off the table and realizes in frustration that it's empty. **** it," Frank scolds, but then he looks at Noah and blushes. "I've got an idea!" Noah suddenly exclaims. "Let's make a deal, dad. You get yourself a beer." "And then?" Frank asks skeptically. "Tonight, you drink it slowly. Are you scared?" "Scared?" Frank asks while he hurries off. Shortly afterwards he returns, holding an open beer bottle in his hand from which nothing has been drunk yet. He puts the bottle on his lips, drinks the first two sips quickly, pauses, puts the bottle on the table, and rubs his stomach. "But now I have to go to the toilet, oh my." By this time, Benjamin is already asleep, a sugar cube is stuck between the tip of his trunk and the floor. Noah smiles. When his father has left the living room, Noah says, without looking, to the Bewilderbeast: "You see – Daddy loves me. Otherwise he wouldn't drink more slowly. It's that simple, isn't it?" No answer. Noah turns around to look. Where the Bewilderbeast huddled, there is now a small dragon figure. Carefully, Noah sneaks up to it, and when he feels that there is no danger coming from the figure, he holds it to his ear and whispers: "Daddy loves me, doesn't he?"
Continue reading...
71
scattered beauty, uncertain fate a life of rage and sometimes hate the longer he remains down there he won't be daddy anymore poems of addiction without fiction as time is tickin', as time is tickin' daddy become clean i wish you luck can't you remember our last hug? it's always the same with you pop how can we count on you? why have you given up? why can't you be strong at last? it doesn't matter if you surrender as time is tickin', as time is tickin' you won't have room or space left frozen bank accounts and misery we live in mistrust, daddy can't you just be yourself again? get rid of the mirrors and errors we live in mistrust, daddy
0
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 5:38 PM UTC
Mistrust
Issue #1 High criticism in opinions Lack of support Overthinking situations Mental breakdowns inside my soul Backlash after Backlash Trying to find my voice in this world Yet, I hold back my tongue Issue #2 I quit dating because my heart was torn open so many times. Distance myself from friends because I was being taken advantage of. Stop writing because my poems won’t change lives. Gave up on the promise land because it’s difficult to reach. Issue#3 Bills due monthly Large pay check here Short pay check there Long shifts = Long nights Trying to save money Tuition due soon. Here goes FASFA calling again.... "~Excuse me, I have to take this call"
0
Mar 6, 2020
Mar 6, 2020 at 8:34 PM UTC
Audacity
Is it me? Or does the years feel like it has been repeated? I don't even know who's real or not Am I just a toy to you? We were the closes friends And you just threw me away. Was I not that important to enter your life? The next day, I saw your smile, bigger than what I saw before If you didn't like me at all You shouldn't have played with my feelings That friendship of yours has succeeded Ours? hasn't. Every year, friends of mine isolate themselves away from me It was like the seasons, Making new friends, old friends leave I don't know if I could trust people with my secrets anymore I'll just try and keep the friends I have now After I lose all of them, I will gladly lock myself away And remove any connections The only person I can trust, is myself...
0
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 8:31 AM UTC
Friends?
all the years of longing all the tears and wronging all your suffering girl all your strength girl you haven't been sure it hasn't been easy: dial his number and call him? ignore your deepest fears mom told you not to (not to!) bro told you not to (not to!) everybody said so (said so!) you weren't listen (you weren't!) he didn't pick up the phone should you try it again? you're a keen and focussed girl so you did (so you did!) a female's voice on the other line "he ain't there now try again in..." a man's voice in the background yelling "no way to talk to your father, girl" no surrender! never give up! life is like push-ups feel me? life is fighting nothing else feel me? never give up! call him again! finally you made it: he picked up shivering sentences spoken a long talk of fear and longing he wouldn't ask you anything dad made clear you're no daughter of his he remained distant no smile no joy you remain distant no smile no joy you're no daughter of his (of his!)
0
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 10:33 AM UTC
No Daughter Of His
Dear Sirae, One. Two. Three. Wait. No. Restart. One. Two. Three. Get it right or do it again. There is no way of gaining happiness without me. Look at you, you’re so foul and huge. ******* disgusting. So do it. Kneel on the cold tile. Feel your hair sweep forward and brush against your face while you bend over. Don’t be weak, push yourself. That wasn’t enough that came up. Again. Again. Again. I own you and you’re not leaving. - Bulimia
0
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 6:51 PM UTC
Signed, Bulimia
...suffered under his drug-addicted father, a musician, and his fame-addicted mother, an actress. runaway child escaped, got into a group home. runaway child was focused, learned eagerly at school and studied later on. runaway child became a teacher. as a teacher, he has been taken care of children in need of love and appreciation.
0
Jan 17, 2020
Jan 17, 2020 at 4:39 AM UTC
Runaway Child...
(Verse 1:) The thought of how we will be spending our time February 14th Valentine's This year makes me cry I'll probably be by your side Always will until we die Maybe feel we have no choice No one else can stand the sound of my voice I only see myself with you See my pain but have no clue You still break my heart in two Time passed us We both grew Both people are someone new Not the kids we once knew Died once You did too Dreams I hope still come true Disappearing into blue Can only attempt to pursue A relationship if you want to too (Hook:) Love the reason we hold on For us can always depend upon Understanding forgiveness isn't what we aren't getting Harder part for us is forgetting (Verse 2:) I do not like the saying "forgive and forget" Not everyone is ready for that yet Everything about you makes me upset This is apologizing for all that I regret I am not living to please anyone else Tried that but only lost myself Brain is wrecked I need help Off drugs and out of this hell I think secretly like the torture Head is aware but somehow unsure Mind is tormented by thoughts so impure Way out blocked by pictures of what we were (Hook) (Bridge:) We are loyal solely to eachother Maybe that's the issue We stay and stay despite pain Just don't wanna miss you You do not want to be lonely either We break eachother piece by piece But wonder if we separated Would finally have our peace?
0
Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 7:27 AM UTC
Forgetting (Rap)
hey daddy i would like to talk to you please may i? forgive me to disturb you i know you are a genius as well as a soldier may i?
0
Nov 18, 2019
Nov 18, 2019 at 2:20 PM UTC
Daddy I
hey daddy i have been trying for so... long please may i talk to you? forgive me to disturb you i know you're a genius as well as a soldier may i?
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Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 5:23 PM UTC
Daddy II