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FlipThePoet Nov 2018
We assignment felonies, who got no melody
It be a blessing to breathe but mans can't find the remedy.
School work got us incubated, well tubed in
Hospitalize for ages.
Penned in these cages
A constant grind on the daily.

Once a man emancipate
8 to 5 is gonna hit him with a straight.
From a frying pan to the fire
He's been stuck in a sticky state.
******* in a system that's meant for retire
That's what he gonna inspire.

Beware to those who tryna finesse the system
Life is gonna hit them with an intricate plot.
If you can't Euro-step them in quick time
It gonna be raps, just watch.
If you don't get it, then you never will
On thin, white sheets, today, I lay
Each IV drop, brings me dismay
There's something I have longed to say...
You pull the plug and make my day.
© Cyrille Octaviano, 2017
krm Mar 2018
Oh, Andy-
speak to me in paints:
red, yellow, blue

When I told you I wouldn't be good at this,
an inability to sketch hands that punched at everything leaving me weak.
Keane's sorrow filled eyes upon oil made more sense to me.

I was never angry or mean, just sad and hopeless.
Lichtenstein was more your speed with obscene images of ******* women
and dialogue of broken hearts.

Van Gogh never made sense, but his attention to detail caught my eye.
To not know what goes on in your own head is identifiable so,
my head is art crafted by Picasso.

they hospitalize you once you've lopped your ear off
when giving a part of themselves to a lover.
I'm not cut out for this- the starving artist,
the tragic sketcher,
or the natural- born painter.

I've calloused my hands,
shed tears on pages of sketchbooks
put paint that looks childlike
and nothing worthwhile,
in all the time spent learning,
I've never learned how to be an artist.

I thought it was the mantra to be pained and miserable,
but you accounted for bold choices and vivid primary shades.
I feel betrayed, that my art alone, isn't enough to be good.

They will never frame my name,
or immortalize flaws in which could never be erased.

Like our conversation in my dream:
"I can't be mean." -Me
"Killing yourself isn't much different" -You

So Andy, what is the color I'm feeling? If it isn't blue?

—V.H.
A dream I had of speaking with Andy Warhol
Alex Jan 2019
My love,

I fell in love with you when I was young.
I remember that you first came to me when I held a hunting knife in my hand,
In front of a 3 ½ by 4 foot mirror.
You found me in the blood that stained my arms.
You came to me, initially, in sets of three.
I was eleven when you came to me.

It was December, I remember, when people found out I loved you.
My cousin asked about the red marks you leave on my arms,
I yanked my sleeve up in fear and responded “It’s just the cat.”
I never wanted to admit I had fallen in love with the most terrifying thing I could imagine.

The kids at school found out about you around this time-
I’d left my hoodie at home, and I couldn’t wear a coat to classes.
Everyone saw your aftermath.
I am surprised the counselor did not call me in to talk about you.

My love,

You had my aunt so angry with me she started to abuse me,
I remember her screaming at me getting worse every time she found out I had relapsed-
How she got more irritable.
I know that in the beginning she meant well-
But eventually, she just started trying to permanently hospitalize me.

You made her believe I was a freak, darling.

My love,

You found me in more ways as the years went on,
You started to mess with my body image and force down my food intake,
And then you forced my teeth to find my leg in a hospital bathroom
because I couldn’t take you back to your roots
Those roots where I held a four inch blade in my hand in a tiny bathroom
In front of the widest bathroom mirror I had ever seen,
Next to a towel clad window-

You eventually made me bruise myself to the point where I had dark brown splotches over my thighs for two and a half weeks.

My love,
I have loved you for five years this coming October.
It’s odd, thinking we’ve been together this long.
I still remember, vaguely, what we looked like together that first time-
I still see your ghost on my arms.

It’s been a month since the last time I’ve talked to you fully,
I’m not counting the days you whisper in my ears and I pull at my hair, you see,
But I can still see the last time we talked.
It’s the pink little mark down the center of my wrist that reminds me we were ever lovers,
And I’m terrified I’m coming back to you worse than ever.

My love,

You scare me.
I mean it. You genuinely scare me,
Because you make me feel so much better for a few hours until I realize I have to get undressed in front of people,
Because I don’t just have a room to myself anymore.

I have been found out about loving you seven times this last year alone from adults.
But I got smarter than most people.
I hide them in better places,
Scar up my hip bones and hiss whenever I move the wrong way
Or have to peel my clothes from the little marks you leave.

My love,

I love you.
I hate what you do but I love you.
I love that you make me feel better for a few minutes,
But I hate when everything goes downhill five minutes later.

I love you.
I’m sorry.
I've published this on another poetry site, so if anyone sees this under the same username, then it's still me.
Vale Luna Oct 2017
☆TRIGGER WARNING☆

Stop shaking

Maybe you didn't press hard enough
So the bleeding will stop after an hour
And you’ll only be left feeling light-headed
Proving that you didn't have it in you

Try harder

If you want to commit ******
You have to commit to it
There is no half-assing a crime
It’s either all or nothing
And you've already gotten your hands *****
If you stop now
You'll be caught
But it's hard to be fearless
When the murderer and the victim are both you
Right?
So…

Be braver

If you over analyse this
Your victim-side
Will prevent you from cutting deep enough
You have a sharp blade
But your will is weak
So strengthen it

Push past the pain

If it hurts
Good
Of course it'll hurt!
It’s death
If you truly want it
Then your murderer-side
Will get over the agony and the guilt
To seek the power to succeed

Embrace the feeling

If you hospitalize yourself again
Your family won't forgive you this time
So finish the ******* job
Because the pills only gave you a tummy-ache
And the noose snapped under your weight
And the gun that Daddy hides doesn't have any bullets in it
So this is a last resort

Find your courage

If the bleeding stops
Pick up the blade
And try again
Don't be stupid by cutting horizontally
You've seen enough TV to know
That the cuts have to be vertical

Be desperate

If you feel yourself getting tired
Let yourself sleep
It means you're getting away with ******
It means you're succeeding

Don't wake up

If you do
You didn’t try hard enough
You weren't brave enough
You didn’t push past the pain
You couldn't embrace the feeling
You never found your courage
You weren't desperate enough

You're a failure
You're a ******* coward.
So yea I had to put trigger warning at the beginning of this one. It would be messed up if I didn't.
Please dont **** yourself...
GONNER Jun 2018
there were so many red flags but i ignored all of them
i was blinded by the light and the love you gave off
you told me you wanted to keep our “thing” a secret
that should have been the first and second sign
1. you called it a “thing” not a relationship and
2. you wanted to keep it “our thing”
you said “people get in the way. they break things. they push people apart”
that may be true but a real bond can get past that
if you really cared about me you wouldn’t care what other people would say
i sure didn’t
but i guess you weren’t that type of person
~
the night yo convinced me to come out to your house was the best
we sat on your roof at 3 am and
we got tipsy off of your dads beer
that was the beginning of the big part that ***** played in our “thing”
you kissed me that night
it wasn’t the first time but it felt different
that was when i started to realize i loved you
we fell asleep with my head on your chest and your arm around my shoulder
still on your roof, right above your bedroom
when we woke up, we rushed down stairs before your parents woke up
you stole their keys and drove me home
neither of us cares that you didn’t have your lisence
you borrowed me a sweatshirt that morning
i loved that it smelt like you
little did i know that that would be the first thing i would trough at you through my bedroom window
~
one month
we were together for one month
that day/night was epic
a true milestone for our “thing”
we went to a local park and
sat on the jungle gym and stared at the stars
hand in hand
you brought a six pack(which was typical) and a bottle of captain morgan
after about an hour of sitting there, taking shots and laughing at ourselves
you got up and lifted me up into your arms
almost effortlessly
i rapped my arms around your neck and my legs around your waist
we just stood there for a good 10 minutes
starring at eachother
the you started to kiss me slow and lower me on to the floor of the jungle gym
the night took off from there and that’s when i blacked out
the next morning i woke up in your bed wearing just your sweatshirt
my head was pounding and i felt like i was going to *****
i didn’t remember much of what happened the night before
put it was painfully obvious of what happen
i was in an empty bed
i wondered were you were
you walked in seconds later with a smile on your face
you looked at me and smiled bigger
i had no expression except confusion
that was my biggest “first” if you really want to call it that
and i didn’t remember it
i didn’t really care though
it didn’t matter much to me ever
you sat down on the bed and asked how i was feeling
i said fine than laid back down on your lap
the rest of the day we stayed in bed and watched movies
i was sure then
that i loved you
~
fast forward to two months after that day
school was starting again soon
you told me you loved me 3 days before our 3 month adversary
i said it back
and then
things started to become rocky for us
we had a lot of drunk nights
we made a lot of drunk mistakes
we had been together for 3 months and you still called us a “thing”
needless to say it bothered me
that day
the worst day for our “thing”
i got a text from one of the girls that i used to be friends with
she explained all of it and
apologized for the whole thing
she genuinely regretted it
i threw my phone across my bed and
curled up into a ball like shape, and cried
i balled
my best friend came over and listened to me rant filled with uncontrollable sobs and tears
she left
i waited for you
i couldn’t cry anymore
it was impossible for me to have more tears
i just waiting
you walked up to my house and came in
i didn’t say a word
your stuff was up in my room in a neat pile
you didn’t know it was there
but it was
the screaming didn’t start till you asked me what’s wrong
“i’ll tell you what’s wrong. you slept with her. three days after you told me you loved me. three days after you slept with me. how could you. i’ve loved yo for so long. i thought you loved me too”
that pretty much all i said to you
i just repeated it over and over in a different order
you stormed out the back door
i ran up to my room and
threw all your trash out the window at you
starting with you sweatshirt
then your phone cord
then your hat
then your sunglasses
and lastly the small plastic key chain you gave me when you first met me
and that was it
we were done
~
i saw you at school sometimes
not often
then you moved
i cared
but i acted like i didn’t
it hurt
you moved on quickly
2 weeks to be exact
it started to kick in
i wasn’t enough for you
so you ******* the first girl you could find
i wasn’t enough
you didn’t want me anymore
i kept replaying our fight over and over
it got really bad
not just because of you
but that’s for a different story
that led to the night i almost over dosed on pain killers
not enough to hospitalize
but enough to make me sick
everyone was worried but i didn’t care
i just wanted to die
you came back to our small town for a couple days
you saw me
you saw how bad i was doing
you didn’t do anything
our “thing” meant nothing to you
clearly
but here i am
almost one year later
1:33 am
and i’m writing about you
your probably in your new town and new house sitting on your roof getting tipsy off of your dads beers with some other girl.
i hate you
but i still love you
all thanks to our “thing”
i’m sorry. i know this was really long but everything is true. in 6 days it will be one year since i had my heart broken for the first time. this was very tough for me to write and i hope you can all respect it
Katherine Laslie Apr 2017
At this point in my life
I am frightened

I've been out of work
For two months
Because my strength
Just doesn't add up

These attacks that I have;
I could have at any time
So what if I am alone
When the episode hits?
I'll be alone to endure it

I fear going back tomorrow
Because it's been so long
And the progress I've made
Has been so small
But at least I am climbing
That mountain
And not rolling out of control
Towards the bottom

I go to sleep tonight
And I am scared of my future
Or if I will ever truly be able
To lead a normal life

This isn't my choice
But more as a curse
One that sends me to a specialist
One that can and probably will
Hospitalize me

I'm afraid
But I'm going to be strong
I will go back tomorrow
And give it my all
And if I should fail
If I should fall
At least I'll know
It couldn't have been helped
Penne Jan 2021
I know what I want
Give me the nostalgic vibe
Filter me with finest nineties
Dress me up with antisocial silk
I'm not sad but I'm incomprehensible
No, no inside jokes
Literal does not translate well in fictional
So it's fine if I told you we're all

Oh, indieee pendant , you won't see if I try so hard or dont at all
Respect me respect me respect me
I hold to a label but I might cry if they drop me
Turn up the B-side for breakup lovers
Don't blast the volume for the back seaters
They deserved not to be preachers
Don't patronise with patriots excessively
Indieee pendant; don't fool me
Sometimes I am the celebrity even I hate the vanity
Yet can I escape society?
I would rather think and think
Than die
Than lie
Than love
Shoes taste like Montgomery's sansrival
I feel heaven than knowing Gah ah ah
Joke of the evening!
Funny to offend a ventriloquist inside a Polaroid shot in a necrophile's journal
Observe your references
You said no more walls, why more fences?
Whose fetish it is to hear breaths on mics?  
Pop more ankles, my grace!
Life, I won't shut my mouth about it
Even though I'm only in my forties
But you're such an ending to the latest, boy-becomes-scary girl film

So I won't stop
Even this is all they shop
Max out the curtains and stray, moth patterns

Am I always the right one?
Since I can parody everyone?

Am I always the right one?
I can parody everyone

Oh, for attires just crop tops and some coral-shaped hats
Being serenaded in a toddler's treehouse much?

Hospitalize me
My heart: is it red or blue?
Is it?
All I say is just an excuse
I am nothing but a recluse
But why did you keep opening the shoot
Since honesty is not your Majesty
What am I supposed to do then?
No, I'm not gonna listen

Get out! Get out! I don't like you!
Take the goodies they're 100% organic
Sugar is an illusion, so nothing is not good for you!

I just want a spot
Even if it flails!
I just wanna wear those shades of velvet and 2050

Memorise this and I will bash you back

And the winner is

Eugh ahem ahem

Cor---
Caterina Correia Aug 2018
I feel that I need to ask to live my life
I feel that I need to ask to do what I want
I feel that I need to ask to go where I want
I feel that I need to ask to be the person I want to be
I feel that I need to ask for my own space
I feel that I need to ask for forgiveness; even though I've done nothing wrong
I feel that I need to ask to speak
I feel that I need to ask to see
I feel that I need to ask questions
I feel that I need to obey all the rules
I feel that I need to be fake to certain people
I feel that Im being watched
I feel that Im being spied on
I feel that Im being threatened
I feel that Im being judged
I feel that Im being yelled at too many times
I feel that Im a prisoner
I feel that Im a puppet on strings
I feel that Im a dog on a tight, strict leash
I feel that Im a butterfly without her wings
I feel that Im a monkey in a cage; waiting to be unleashed
i feel the need to tell people off
I feel the need to get revenge
I feel the need to defend myself
I feel the need to yell back
I feel the need to confront certain people
I feel the need to hospitalize myself...
Because I dont think Im allowed to breathe

— The End —