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 Jul 2013 tdf
Brycical
BPD
 Jul 2013 tdf
Brycical
BPD
We get it—
nobody paid attention to you
growing up.
Now the reward is attention,
lots of it—
From police, therapists, and a family
that doesn’t understand.
They want to help
but you make it hard—
The anger isn’t directed at you,
merely the troubling revelation
truth is whatever garner’s the most eyeballs.
What are we supposed to believe?
Even the cutting you implore
isn’t linked to depression.
Everyone wants to help,
but you have to want  it as much
as the attention you desire.
 Jul 2013 tdf
phantasmal
slip the needle into my vein
i'd close my eyes and let you reign
the cool of metal etched between
a pain more delicious than sin
inject the cyanide dose by dose
remember the highs and lows
and with a smile i'd beckon you near
i'd use my last breath to call you "dear"

- - -
 Jul 2013 tdf
phantasmal
dreams with blistered fingertips
and a marathon without an end
the sweetness of crushed grapes on lips
or knights with no one to defend
i see an eye with euphoria ripped
from an empty soul unworthy to mend
from the moment the hourglass flips
my sanity drowns in the trickling sand

- - -
 Jun 2013 tdf
Plain Jane Glory
It's not the painless choice
that I've coached myself to believe it is

But why not, you idiot cynic?

Because I only find happiness
in moments of ignorance

And?

And in those moments of ignorance
I find minutes of shame

And?

And in those minutes of shame
I find hours of sadness

And?!

And in those hours of sadness
I find  endless  defeat




...that's why I sleep life away

Why, you fool?

Because in a lifetime of slumber
one finds nothing at all
 Jun 2013 tdf
Plain Jane Glory
Baby, aren't I pretty, in that tortured kind of way?
Don't these dark circles under my eyes add something?
A little sense of mystery? A taste of poetic desperation?
Baby, don’t you love to play with this mane of dirt blonde hair?
It’s a marvel of half-wit curls, don’t you think?
And don’t I have the bluest ocean eyes?
Not quite Liz Taylor, more the polluted Toronto lakeshore
But doesn't this wide face have so much character?
Like a 1950's housewife, you sometimes said

Tell me baby, aren’t I pretty, a real sight for sore eyes?
A little bit pretty, a little bit ugly
Don’t I match with my insides?
 Jun 2013 tdf
Gabby K
My skin is raw from the frequent scalding hot showers.
I want to scrub your fingerprints off my body.
I don’t want to smell of your deceivingly sweet nectar,
I don’t want to feel your lingering embrace any longer.

It is no use.
I know that if someone were to kiss my body,
They would taste the insincere plague of your tongue.
They would absorb your flimsy forevers,
And those tender kisses that were meant for only me.

It is no use.
I cannot forget.
It is impossible for me to peel off these imprints.
So instead I will cover them.
I want to tattoo the first time you kissed me all over my body.
I want to tattoo our beach trip on my thighs.
Our day at the amusement park on my feet.
That’s where the skin is thinnest.
Poke close to my fragile bones.
I want it to hurt as much as possible.
It needs to sting.
© Gabby K 6/10/2013
 Jun 2013 tdf
NAR
She's Poetry
 Jun 2013 tdf
NAR
She's Poetry,
in more ways than she herself knows.
Just a glance in my direction with those radiant eyes,
or even the mere sound of her voice escaping those lips of silk,
is enough to awaken the butterflies that have been at rest in my soul for what feels like an eternity,
with the intensity of a cyclone.

She's Poetry,
Moving like the smoke releasing from the lit end of my cigarette,
drifting softly wherever the wind may take her.
Her luminous smile alone
is enough of a spark to set my mind ablaze,
giving me the inspiration to write for days and days and days.

She's Poetry.
With just the slightest touch, all my pain instantaneously evaporates,
and my heart begins to melt away.
Sweet as the summer rain, she swims through the rivers of my brain,
and I'm still wondering if she feels the same.

Shes Poetry,
in more ways than she herself knows.
anxious is the man
countless years ago
he followed doubt and pain
but never let it show

first to catch the eyes
blonde and unrefined
her short and shuffled feet
walk in time with mine

nights and days compress
cars become a wish
each night they turned the keys
the world was on their list

compiled inside a gate
her secrets lied in flame
breaking down the walls
would fuel the fire untamed

whitened in the snow
shoulder made a tool
she told him her regrets
that night beside school

time, a heartless fool
danced inside their eyes
trickled down their cheeks
in to a sad demise

flashing screens of red
warning soon to come
listen to it close
beat it like a drum

round and round it goes
cycles start again
wheels begin to spin
relax and count to ten

hallowed be thy name
unrequited love
worshiped like a god
mistaken for a dove

dyed a crimson red
letters sent with hope
return this back to sender
with a complementary rope

time returned again
this time he brought a friend
distance bared a shovel
knowing it would end

fit it in all in words
fluff it up real nice
rip to shreds her heart
turning his to ice

see her face again
hear her say his name
hammer to his heart
melt it all with shame

now anxious is the man
countless years ago
he followed doubt and pain
never to let go
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