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#lockedup
You say you want me here but so you really? It don't feel like you want me here, Doesn't feel like home, Feels more like prison, Locked in a place where I don't wanna be, Where's the key? I need to find my way outta here.
0
Dec 24, 2020
Dec 24, 2020 at 8:54 AM UTC
Don't feel like home.
It’s funny that I can keep songs on repeat But I can’t listen to you anymore
0
Mar 18, 2020
Mar 18, 2020 at 2:37 AM UTC
Playlist
Am I really home What is home What isn't Familiarity estranged Causes and excuses Broken lies Forgotten promises We all never made Who are they Everyone just gawking At everything and nothing At where I stood still Where is myself Left her locked up Right she isnt Who is the writer Behind this Sordid Distorted Broken Poem or prose Who am I What am I Is it me or is it really You I am here but not The existing that's extinct Appearing while I disappear Depressed but not Living like the dead
0
Feb 14, 2020
Feb 14, 2020 at 12:28 AM UTC
Surrealist or philosopher
In a time so long ago There lived a girl By the name of Octavia She was shy and mute Not so much mute, As just did not like to speak Her parents were worried She did well in school But Her social skills p l u m m e t e d She combed her long black hair at night Quiet as a mouse In the small, dark little house She rested Her parents had enough She could not function in society They locked her up And told her to stay She did not mind After all, there were books And a comb for her long black hair To comb at night Every day, she did just that The town she lived in f orgot a bou t h e r Bit by bit She became unnerved "Octavia, Octavia," She heard the voices say "Why don't you come out and play?" She shook her head, and read her book. The voices stopped, then returned the next day. Nothing else could be heard Then, footsteps Could someone be there for her? No They weren't Eventually, the voices grew forms Shadows of children, smiling and laughing Octavia was wary and bitter She did not like them She combed her hair One of them took the comb and ran Octavia cried Her hair would no longer be beautiful Her beauty would p l u m m e t She paced throughout the room, reading her books They became boring to her Reading the same things, over and over again Her bitterness grew stronger She saw an old book, torn from time And tears formed in her eyes Weeping, she ripped a page out And then another And another and another another more, more m o re All her books were gone Nothing to do Except listen to the voices She knew that they were messing with her She did not know how to stop them They held her hand tight And told her, "Play, play, don't be scared" And then, she stopped being scared Her parents, regret in their hearts Unlocked the door, and found nothing Except a girl with unkempt hair And a trail of ripped pages She looked at them, and a smirk grew across her face "Don't you see? I play with the voices, and the voices play with me."
0
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 8:19 PM UTC
Octavia
In a time so long ago There lived a girl By the name of Octavia She was shy and mute Not so much mute, As just did not like to speak Her parents were worried She did well in school But Her social skills p l u m m e t e d She combed her long black hair at night Quiet as a mouse In the small, dark little house She rested Her parents had enough She could not function in society They locked her up And told her to stay She did not mind After all, there were books And a comb for her long black hair To comb at night Every day, she did just that The town she lived in f orgot a bou t h e r Bit by bit She became unnerved "Octavia, Octavia," She heard the voices say "Why don't you come out and play?" She shook her head, and read her book. The voices stopped, then returned the next day. Nothing else could be heard Then, footsteps Could someone be there for her? No They weren't Eventually, the voices grew forms Shadows of children, smiling and laughing Octavia was wary and bitter She did not like them She combed her hair One of them took the comb and ran Octavia cried Her hair would no longer be beautiful Her beauty would p l u m m e t She paced throughout the room, reading her books They became boring to her Reading the same things, over and over again Her bitterness grew stronger She saw an old book, torn from time And tears formed in her eyes Weeping, she ripped a page out And then another And another and another another more, more m o re All her books were gone Nothing to do Except listen to the voices She knew that they were messing with her She did not know how to stop them They held her hand tight And told her, "Play, play, don't be scared" And then, she stopped being scared Her parents, regret in their hearts Unlocked the door, and found nothing Except a girl with unkempt hair And a trail of ripped pages She looked at them, and a smirk grew across her face "Don't you see? I play with the voices, and the voices play with me."
Continue reading...
90
It's all locked up inside, Bars and barricades all around, Things don't go out, Things don't go in.
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May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
Locked up
Because of me someone will never be able to build their life. Because of me someone is to be imprisoned. Because of me someone has had their life ruined. Because of me someone will be hurting for a very long time. Because of me someone will never be able to trust anyone ever again.
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 11:22 AM UTC
It's All My Fault
my lids are heavy held down by pain and dried blood I can feel the ground my fingers wet the smell of a public toilet it's dark I feel like I've just lost my mind Two days later I'm pressed against hot benches light blaring down on my now red bare chest I know I can't move "Sit Down!" if I stretch my legs just for a second I could be in here the entire day Five years later sewing in thick gloves that don't fit my once feminine hands I can see past the windows that can't open men walking in the grass gray clothes gray hair walking together as if they were chained or had been for far too long One year later the walls laugh at me their pathetic attempts at a ***** feel"* I see my friend in the corner of the room I'd missed her I start walking towards her and notice her chin caked in spit and her eyes glazed over with emptiness will I ever be free will I ever convince them will I ever run again will he ever find me
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Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
1929 - Miss Cartwright
After days of hatred, and days of sorrow The book is closed, no more time is borrowed They didn't see it coming, For they never do This is the end, I'm drowning in the water, Doing flips and backbends, No I'm not trying to get to surface I choose not I rather be left on the seafloor, chained and locked
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Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
The Ending
Your reality is altered My imaginations wild Together, a pair so faltered But the efforts worth our while A blink and then a nose rub I shift my eyes, oh no We both know who's lucky And who's about to go We smile then we grin now As the roar of pain grows loud The kissing over shouting Is muffling the sounds Washing all the blood off They're beating on our door You help me out the window Just like we did before Running, Gasping, Panting But our grins are ear to ear How could we get away again? We're professionals with no fear This game is far too easy Were loosing interest now Should we both confess sins Exploit, I don't know how Bars become our wallpaper He's doing push-ups all in drag She marked my arm with her name But a better life, we've never had
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Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 4:04 PM UTC
Losing Sanity