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slay Jul 2018
Show some patience for me please, im sick of all the instant gratification
Pop a chill pill just to breathe, cause all I see is violent recreation, okay then
Bought a necklace then I sneezed, my neck, my heart, my veins they all are frozen, but I’m chosen

I’m coastin ,
Now for the moment
Sip mimosas, with my feet up
She roll the **** up
My little Nina
Shorty got me drinking just to stay up
I feel messed up
Get fed up
Always gotta hold my money closer

But I miss her
She was like a soulmate and a sister
Then she dissed me, I dissed her
But she came back around like I had kissed her

I walk a line so ****** thin, sometimes I think I’m on a one way track to heaven
Never busted on a lick, because my mind is already a prison, I’m Satan
Hit the break so hard and skid, I can’t believe I’m even here to say this, but when you’re famous

You stay blameless
Blinded by the limelight and the danger
I’m no stranger to her pain, though
She holds on to me and never lets go
Baby, let’s go
She tried to tell me no
Put her hands on me but I enjoyed it

All of Her frustration, I endure it
She cycles back to me, another boredom
Can’t replace me and she knows it
But that doesn’t stop her from searching

Please don’t make this complicated, I just need some time alone to fix this
I keep going cause it hurts so bad to look back the past really got me trippin, from a distance
I’m so sorry Didn’t see you standing there my thoughts are cloudy, tunnel vision

Bae, mind your business
We aren’t there yet
And I’m gonna pretend like you ain’t say that
But you hurt me, can’t forget that
I said I forgave you and I meant that

She blew me over
I’m never sober
I think I’m in love, I never told her
So how come I’m not with her?
She’s my twin flame mirror
I can, I can’t fix her

Never mind, I might just try anyway
Give the world to her, she’s my Francis Bean
Why’d they give a heart to me anyway?
I’m gonna break it just to see what’s on the inside
And if I can, just to see how many times
If I can empathize
Make me second guess myself, I won't fight
I've got so much living left inside this life, but
This life's in my head eating myself alive
If I push the pain aside,

I know I hesitated once, but just know that I will never be mistaken.
Once I learn to trust my gut, these ******* won't even know that it was me who hit them, I'm just playing, and
Maybe by the time I'm done, I'll be a person who even I, myself can live with.
My pain is not a poem,
my poetry isn't poetic.
It's cryptic and a message,
cutting up and breaking
branches. Comprehensive;
my poems are suicidal, files of
medications and prescriptions
are seemingly all my mind
can write. Jumping to conclusions
and indenting my addictions,
inflicting this confliction, convictions
I don't mention. Those rhymes that
I have wrote; it was the drowning as I broke,
a broken draft of notes, that sing:
 "you'll never learn to float,"
Acid, or is it water?  
I'm hoping for the latter,
well I guess it never mattered,
years doubled and I'm sadder.
When does it get better?  
When do I get better?  
I guess it never will, and I'm
home but I'm not here,
I'm stuck, I'm stuck, I'm stuck,
and all my heart
can pump is tears-
All feedback is appreciated and welcome!
Renee Danielle Dec 2015
my roommate likes to play dress up.
sometimes, she will look just like me;
other times, she looks like fragmented bits
of my worst weeks thrown together
in old calendars I've tried to lose.

you tell me this is a cry for help,
but "help" is a foreign word
that will always sound funny
coming from my lips.
keeping myself together
is a language I never learned to speak.

a merry-go-round of feeling bad
about feeling bad
about feeling bad.
I can't remember the opposite of sick.
my stomach is hurting
and my head is spinning
from all of these circles.

I've been avoiding my reflection
because I'm afraid she'll be disappointed
to see what I've made out of her.
I don't want to keep running from people
who once loved me.
It doesn't have to be healthy,
Only street corner poison;
Teeth marks,
Maybe something broken.
It's not about what it is,
But what it leaves.
The quiet skin beneath your sleeve,
The fire that sings me to sleep.
Justin Aug 9
Way down,
I've drifted
And somehow
I'm riding the waves.
Waiting for the tide to take me home.

It's hard to believe
That things have to be
So black and white,
When the dreams that keep me warm at night
Are full of colors, so bright.

Even though life's a mess,
I'm running to keep it all together.
Chasing after the pieces of me.

I keep losing the pieces,
I keep losing the pieces,
So I let them all go.

Can we make up
The time that we've lost?
Or has it all drifted away?
Is it all over now?
Can we fix what's been broken?
Can we start over again?
I guess, for now, we'll have to wait.

I've got so much time.
Seconds like water in my lungs.
I think I'll be fine, dear.
I've been floating here so long
I've learned how to breath through the pain.

Even though life's insane,
I'm running to keep it all together.
Chasing after the pieces of me.

I keep losing the pieces,
I keep losing the pieces,
So I let them all go.
Tommy Randell Apr 2017
I have a torch that shines only black light
It's inky beam makes pools of darkness
It does not reflect off mirrors
But makes a kind of hole in them

When I shine it into the trees at day time
Birds fall asleep and cease to sing
When I wave it into people's eyes
They cannot see and cry out in a panic

It makes dogs bark and bare their teeth
Flowers and leaves curl up and shrink away
If I let it shine through Butchers' windows
All the meat turns dry, dusty, and grey

Children in the park run away from its touch
Old people say it brings back the war
So I keep my torch blacked out
I let the day be normal and shiny

It is only fair after all to keep my darkness un-lit
To let light and colour win the day
It is a powerful thing my shade
Best kept dimmed down there inside my head
F White Oct 2015
A panacea,
the band aid word I
slap on conflict

A solve it all

Acronym for nothing and
Diffuser of
All scenarios.

the  more politely phrased version of
The mafia's cry.

But no matter how you slant the saying,
It's still salient- and a parched, bleached lie.
Copyright fhw, 2015
Marla Apr 22
My mind is slipping swift-like;
Kind of you to step in this time.
Taking a bend distracting the pain;
Faking solace standing in rain.
Let’s sink a hearty round o’ drinks,
Glasses half full with a browned out tint.
Pipes smashed as stability abruptly shatters-
Life’s abashed daze subtly ceases to matter
Jessica Jarvis Feb 2018
Upon the dark night, striking three;
A tick representing each step in time,
but time overwhelmed by a trinity
of peace, and a plan greater than one's wildest dreams.

As the trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and
waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation,
a bird sings unto the dark night her song, unique, sweet, and free-spirited

Another beauty upon the night, a tulip,
blossoming, not fully grown, in admiration of this free spirit, the bird.
The tulip observes from a distance the song the bird sings

A praise, a never ending thankfulness
"Thank You for the trees,
Thank You for the waves,
And thank You for me," the bird sings.

In awe of the song bird, the tulip longs to grow, to blossom, to fly, to sing;
Oh, the joy, the praise, the song she'll bring
when fully grown to exemplify her thanks to the three

But, Hold! The clock ticking three, a breath He takes.
The songs of beauty the bird once sang
are silenced more than a whisper

Oh, dear, wilting Tulip; she wonders,
"Why?" she misunderstands, "Why has the bird's song been hushed?"
Oh, so joyful with praise, the songs she sang,
but now unto another Audience, unheard by the flower;

However, the sun rises, the flower realizes,
A new day is upon her. The trees clap their praises unto a summer wind, and
Waves flood the skies with their roaring rumbles of exaltation,
Just like any other day.

Partaking in full bloom overnight, grown, she hears the call of three:
You're unique, sweet, and your free-spirit will sing,
for the steps of time past quicker than the steady rhythm of that clock ticking

Fly free, song bird,
Your legacy will only grow sweeter with time
As the bloom of a tulip smiles and praises the One unto which your song once thrived.
Written sometime around January, 2017.

This was written out of pain: legitimate heartbreak, but I suppose most poetry is, right? This was my first "real" poem that I've ever written. This began as an assignment and became a coping mechanism with a serious loss. I did, however, learn an important lesson: loss can be beautiful... I was very particular and purposeful with this poem, so there is a lot of symbolism. Interpret it as you please.
Marla May 24
Staring into the static abyss
That stretches deep beyond
An electric blue mist...
I dove in with no hesitation-
My heart a well of fascination.
Though my joy mounted steadily
Yells from my mouth did take leave.
Perhaps the pleasure transcends the pain-
Perhaps the rapture only claims the insane.
Marla Apr 25
We used to be the kind of friends
Who'd ask each other questions
So that we can try and pretend
Our lives weren't so sad,

But then you left and became someone else,
A hollowed out Gatsby with pathetic tendencies.
I'd be ashamed if I had known you more myself,
Yet you'd always keep your feelings away from me.

Now we've departed and gone our own ways,
Though I reminisce about you most days.
I wish you hadn't gone and stayed in your pain,
Maybe then we'd be friends till old age.
Lost Aug 2018
sometimes i cut paper
instead of my skin

other times i punch walls
just to feel something
in my balled up fists

my knuckles look different now
but i feel the same

so i keep cutting paper
until the next time i break
Trigger Warning: Description of self harm
. The morning after
When I told my mother
That he made me touch him
She took my to the bathroom
To wash my hands -
Because he made me
*****
With his essence
Now that I am older
That
crime
still lives on my skin
And in my mind
I can't help but wonder-
If I wouldn't have felt so soiled
Had everyone not told me
That I was that way
I was just a little girl
With big blue eyes
But I understood right then
That *** meant grime
They tell me that it's not my fault
That I had no part in the scene
It severed the ties in my mind
That made me a part of the thing
Now I still don't connect emotionally
During ***

Instead I simply submit-
Because that's as close to love
As I'll ever get
.
achen Oct 2018
every time he puffs his cigarette
it always got me thinking
about how could he love
the smoke leaving his body
or maybe savoring its aftertaste

every time he puffs his cigarette
it makes me feel sick to think of
the smoke goes in of my body, and not his,
receiving its after-effect

every time he puffs his cigarette
i’ve always think of, that it’s his escape
like me, i’m stuck in between and
he is stuck on his suicidal state of mind
that no one could ever understand
I felt like, this is a mindset, too. Sometimes, we should stop assuming on why people do such things, whether it’s bad or good, we’ll never know what’s behind it. What if it's the other way around?

p.s. I am in no way romanticising it
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