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 Dec 2016 Bleurose
Charlie Harman
There is so much more to me than meets the eye,
I’m like a punch bowl spiked with too much liquor.
One mixed drink later and my feelings are all over the place,
Bipolar, ADD, Depression...All these labels on me.

“Are you ok?”
Yes of course
“You sure?”
Yes! (No)

Depression hits me like a train sometimes,
Just out of the light and into the blue.
I mean, I am like the train in a sense,
My problems can’t find room on the inside anymore so they cling to me on the outside…

“Are you ok?”
Yes of course
“You sure?”
Yes! (No)

My tears fall like rain from my clouded eyes,
It’s not drought season yet dear.
When will it be?
Will it ever be?

“Are you ok?”
Yes of course
“You sure?”
Yes! (No)

It’s finally light outside,
The clouds are gone.
“Hey you? Wanna go for a ride?”
“Sure just hold on!”

“Are you ok?”
Yes of course
“You sure?”
Yes!
This time I am...
Wrote this in Creative Writing
 Dec 2016 Bleurose
Charlie Harman
Get out of my house!
I hate you...
You won't go anywhere you **** idiot!
I don't understand...why father do you hate *me?


You see my mind is as scarred as my wrists.
Abuse
That word is more family then my father.
Failure
Its my middle name.
Mistake
I am one.

His words leave open wounds on my mind,
Fresh blood oozing through the cracks in my mask.

Hey I'm fine I promise!
I'm fine!
I'm...
I......


I'm scarred and this is my story.
 Dec 2016 Bleurose
Skaidrum
~
 Dec 2016 Bleurose
Skaidrum
~
"No one likes your poetry because they don't understand it."

"Congratulations, welcome to reality."
.
I write for the soul fading out of my own skin.
I am not a popular poet.
 Dec 2016 Bleurose
Charlie Harman
The air swirls above me a charcoal black tainted with moonlight:
Why am I awake I whisper aloud...
The pills didn't work again,
Time to take more I guess...

1 Pill
        2 Pills
                 3 Pills
                          4 Pills
                                   5 Pills

I remember you said never take 6,
But black is my favorite color, you would know...
6 Pills
The air swirls black around me one last time as my eyes close forever.

*Goodbye
"1 Pill should work, if not take more but please, never take more than 5."
*Why?*
"Because if you take 6 you might fall asleep and never wake up."
*Oh ok, I promise*

Never trust me with the power to control my own life,
For others have controlled it since the day I was born.
My mind was hazy
after over drinking
when I first saw the figure

crunching its way towards
me on a winter's night
holding a flashlight
and walking its poor excuse for a dog

The iced trees drooped
swaying from cold breath
as the figure trudged on

The closer it approached,
I began to hear its song

Nothing drowned out its
performance in the stillness
of a New York winter

Nothing to compete with this
derivative, pop radio, Siren
Calling out to me as flakes
melt on my exposed face

I could taste the diesel
from the exhaust
expelled from the truck
that left tracks in the snow

Lost my attention for a second
then the figure's song
regained control

The flashlight grew brighter
and brighter
When the figure was just a few
feet away
the brightness over powered
my vision
and the figure asked
"do you know your way?"

"Sorry?" I replied as my
mind was not clear

"do you know where you are going?"

I replied,
"Does anyone know where to go
when their purpose isn't clear?"
 Dec 2016 Bleurose
Alexa Sangren
Well what about me,
I know what to do,
Don't forget that I'm here
And I've lived through this too.

Please let me speak my mind
Don't hinder what I say
Because every time you do this
I fly farther away

Well what about me,
I know how to act
A simple part I'm playing
Just one I know by fact

Well what about me,
Oh, I know how to speak
My words are my power-
You take them, I'm weak.
 Dec 2016 Bleurose
Ben Jones
At the back of the stage in a gloomy wee room
Where the cockroaches eat what the rats don’t consume
There’s a table enveloped in paper and grime
On a carpet now lost to a happier time
With a cast iron typewriter, rusted with age
In the gloomy wee room at the back of the stage

And under a lampshade of nicotine brown
Sits a comical legend of zero renown
How he plugs at the keys of his rattling beast
The years of persistence have left him decreased
Now he’s stuck in the shade of his hovering doom
At the back of the stage in a gloomy wee room

His words are for others and too, the applause
Though a standing ovation might cause him to pause
He hasn’t the courage to speak them aloud
For he’s lacking the bottle and shy of a crowd
So he captures the laughter in lines on his page
In a gloomy wee room at the back of the stage
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