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All alone I sit
In my empty room.
Crying my eyes out
Just wanting to end my life soon.

No one understands me.
No one knows what goes through my head.
No one gets the pain I feel.
No one knows that I feel dead.

I cut myself to relieve the pain.
I relive the stress just for awhile.
Until my parents find out.
They look at me like I'm vile.

I promised to stop.
Promised to let it go.
But how can I,
When it's the only thing I know?

I need it back.
Cutting is my drug.
I need to let go of the stress within me.
Help me.

They say they love me
But I know they lie.
How can they
When I want to die?

So here I sit.
Alone in my room.
Crying my eyes out.
Wishing someone will end my life soon.
 Apr 2014 Vladimir Ruduke
And it is midnight again.
We will write the date different.
Breakfast will be slightly changed,
hair will be terribly ruffled on one day,
then fine on the next.

Our souls may sometimes be coloured blue,
for now,
it's mellow sunshine melded with silent notes of wistfulness.

The handful of stars dotting across the grey-navy blue sky will sometimes become an infinite sprinkle.

Raindrops & damp hair.
Sunshine dancing across our collarbones.

Closed eyelids, but unclosed heart.

Tired soul but it keeps say a quiet 'No' to

Lovely days flit in between the not-so-good ones.

And it is twelve at night again.
My white heart painted the loveliest red has been
trying & trying
to say
'Hello' or was it.. goodbye

Hello there! How is your day going, lovely?
Why does you're heart break?
Within the solemn rain,
Of cold, wet agony.

The red now married,
To pain...

Maybe this world...
This place...
Can heal a broken puzzle,
Of crimson pieces..
She* fourteen
I don’t know when
Now or then
Was she pretty
She was pretty
She not know
She was stupid
To not think so

Was she happy
No she not
I know her
Know her well

She fifteen
Who cares when
She pretty
Conceited to
Think so

Was she happy
Maybe so
I know her
Know her well

She was 16
Not Yet
She believes
In fairytales
Where’s her prince
To save her from
The evil queen

Was she happy
Yes of course
I know her
Her is me

Dear desperation

I ask only that you do not grab me as readily as you do.  For whenever I desire something from gazing upon the ground to catching my true love you are there.  Now I do not say leave.  No.  For I desire you.  You can be useful.  But come at my will not yours.  

Not yours sincerely
Your master
Desperation is useful but dangerous
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