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The drums in my ears, the galloping of horses right behind my back, I stand looking at the murky thick fog, with the word ringing in my ears, "Attack!" I stand still, pondering of what to do and why, Pondering in my head, why don't I just die… The black hooded riders gallop on their horses right behind me, There is a legion of them, thick as smoke with no hope of being free, Ravens screech above my head, smoke pours from my head, back and shoulders, I want to reach out, want to give up with this feeling of me being crushed by a million boulders… My head drums, my temples throb, my vision goes blurry and hazy, My eyes cloud with a murky green color of insaneness, I'm going crazy, I grab my sharp big knife, and start to stroke it absent mindly, Meanwhile, I struggle on, with the hooded riders behind my back whle I stumble on-ward blindly… I still have hope in my heart, as my feet carry me, I look at the dim pale objects of people, walking happily and free, While I… stumble in this murky thick fog, and behind me there is hooded figures with their swords, The numbers so many of them, it's like black thick smoke, except of the figures there is hordes and hordes and hordes……… I fall on my knees, stumbling over ****** grass, I see holy-water ahead, but the smoke atop my head tells me to pass, Falling on my face, I give up, breathing hard and almost dead, I give my last efforts, when a figure gallops up to me on a stallion and with it's sword just cleanly slices off my head… The blood paints the grass, as my hand is holding the knife, The blade is stabbed deep inside my chest, taking away my life, My eyes go pale and my body stays motionless, in a death-like freeze, The fog clears, the figures disappears as the smoke gets blow away by the soft gentle breeze...... ~Mishka Wayz~
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Jan 5, 2020
Jan 5, 2020 at 9:09 PM UTC
What I Wish For Christmas
The drums in my ears, the galloping of horses right behind my back, I stand looking at the murky thick fog, with the word ringing in my ears, "Attack!" I stand still, pondering of what to do and why, Pondering in my head, why don't I just die… The black hooded riders gallop on their horses right behind me, There is a legion of them, thick as smoke with no hope of being free, Ravens screech above my head, smoke pours from my head, back and shoulders, I want to reach out, want to give up with this feeling of me being crushed by a million boulders… My head drums, my temples throb, my vision goes blurry and hazy, My eyes cloud with a murky green color of insaneness, I'm going crazy, I grab my sharp big knife, and start to stroke it absent mindly, Meanwhile, I struggle on, with the hooded riders behind my back whle I stumble on-ward blindly… I still have hope in my heart, as my feet carry me, I look at the dim pale objects of people, walking happily and free, While I… stumble in this murky thick fog, and behind me there is hooded figures with their swords, The numbers so many of them, it's like black thick smoke, except of the figures there is hordes and hordes and hordes……… I fall on my knees, stumbling over ****** grass, I see holy-water ahead, but the smoke atop my head tells me to pass, Falling on my face, I give up, breathing hard and almost dead, I give my last efforts, when a figure gallops up to me on a stallion and with it's sword just cleanly slices off my head… The blood paints the grass, as my hand is holding the knife, The blade is stabbed deep inside my chest, taking away my life, My eyes go pale and my body stays motionless, in a death-like freeze, The fog clears, the figures disappears as the smoke gets blow away by the soft gentle breeze...... ~Mishka Wayz~
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25
A sad story Is drawn upon my wrist Because I don't want to exist My thoughts are toxic I've given up talking Because no one listens and no one is watching as my mind destroys what's in my heart And all this poise was a lie from the start I want to die And yet I'm stuck in my mind Please let me resign from this excuse for a life.
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC
***
When you say you want to die, I want to say 'me too', But I can't, Because you're only eleven. When you ask about the scars on my arm, I tell you it happen by accident, So not to give you any ideas, Because you're only eleven. When you cry and I hold you tight, I tell you a lie, That everything is going to be ok, Because you're only eleven. When I cry I cover my eyes, I don't want you to see my pain, So I can help you deal with yours, Because you're only eleven. When things get to hard, I want to keep you safe, So you don't have to face the world alone, Because you're only eleven. When you say you want to die, I promise to help you live, And give you the support I never got, Because I was only seven.
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Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 7:12 AM UTC
Because You're Only Eleven
In this forest, filled with greens the hands of time wring my neck and i close my eyes only to wake up
0
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
Untitled
i dont think its healthy to be at constant worry if im gonna lose you i dont think its healthy to only listen to the music that you like no, i dont think its ******* healthy to be lying in my yard looking at the stars in complete awe but wishing i could be staring at you instead
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Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
Untitled
I have told myself I'm okay for Far too ******* long. I want to disappear forever. Go somewhere I won't be found. Where people will give up on the search. I'm not Who people think I am. I'll leave in the night, When everyone is asleep. Maybe not. I'm not sure. "I'll be back later" "Where are you going?" "On a walk" No one will think anything. **I'll find an overpass, Climb over it. And jump. At just the right time.**
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 8:58 AM UTC
*TimEinG Is EverYthIng*
I still have them those stupid vampire teeth the ones you won for me and it's almost Halloween and I wonder if you have yours or if you think about that day the rainy days are filling my head with ****** memories of being in love and although I pushed you out for so **** long you've managed to sneak back in with you're endless supply of songs "I would like" or you're sweet smelling cologne but it hurts so bad because you're in love with that girl who loves your family and dress ******* normal. I'm just the girl who fills your days with conversations and keeps you comfort on those long, dark, bus rides. but I'm never the one you'd choose because I love you and that would be to **** easy
0
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
old boy. old pain
A card given by a stranger With a poem written down clumsily “Don’t die like a rose,” it says A girl sitting at the back Holding her sketch pad, pencil, watercolour, and paintbrush Lines, curves, dimensions— Submerge in a nightmare Lost in a maze of Unforgotten memories Her body is damaged Skin peeling off As she tries to find her way back “Don’t die like a rose,” it says She has nothing left Only a pile of poems, Stories, drawings That holds a secret Everyday misery becomes Her good lover It sings as she sleeps Cuddling her in the darkness Of a room filled with ghosts Misery showers her with Anguish of morning kisses “Don’t die like a rose,” it says There are no longer fireflies That stay in her eyes Her lips are out of colour Unlike her drawings Spilled with red, orange, green, and black A world she creates Freeing her soul Letting it soar to join The hues of a sunset “Don’t die like a rose,” it says But beautiful stranger, She died a thousand times Death is her friend She’s been waiting for To take her away In those vast universe Of stars, daffodils, cigarettes, Metaphors, violins She longs to run in the meadows Where grass dances As she smiles finally September 7, 2015
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Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
"Don't die like a rose"
Every time I begin to think I am getting over you, I am proven wrong. If I go a day without speaking to you, I can point out your flaws. When you're high you talk too much. When you're drunk you get angry. You sometimes don't show empathy for other people's emotions. Your hands aren't fragile. You don't like the smell of incense. You argue with me over things that are not important. But when I'm with you, your excessive talking is cute and interesting. When you're angry, I get excited. Your lack of emotion towards other people doesn't bother me because at times i can understand it. Your hands are rough and hard on my skin and I like the sensation. I don't light incense around you because I much more prefer the flicker of candle light across your face. And when you argue with me, I can't help but feel love. All I feel for you is love, and I ******* hate it.
0
Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
2:49 am
Good luck figuring me out I haven't even done that.
0
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
Who? (10w)
i have problems the voices are back someone help me - - - if i just keep laughing maybe i'll die of hysteria - - - i wonder if what i am even counts as living
0
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:45 PM UTC
Me (Three [10w]s)
I used to be able to look at you and you'd know You used to beg me to stop You used to make me stop You were the only one But I just looked at you and you looked right back You looked at me like I was a crazy person At least you finally figured it out, I guess
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
Look At Me