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em Jul 2015
maybe all i need to stop this pain is a little motrin.
maybe all i need to stop this bleeding is a band-aid.
maybe all i need to stop this screaming are some ear plugs.
maybe all i need to stop this drowning is a life raft.
maybe all i need to stop this agony is a little numbness.

numbness...


it wears off,  doesn't stop the pain only holds back the flood gates
of sleepless nights and screaming hearts, bloodshot eyes and rejections knife.
just long enough for me to catch a glimmer of hope, a mirage
in the Sahara, so beautiful yet so cruel.  
just as i get close enough to taste
a sweet tomorrow,
the desert sun sets.
and i'm still bleeding,
and you're still
gone.

maybe all i need to stop this searching is a little less hope.
feedback? i kinda like this as spoken work....thoughts ;)
Carter Ginter Oct 2014
My stiff arms hit the metal of the door as I force it open, against
the chilled fist of wind, pounding hard upon the glass
windows and then equally upon my face and forearms. It had to be
below 50 degrees, but I had hoped that the cold could help me
feel again. Feel something. Unfortunately,
this ice only froze my fingers, leaving
my body as numb as my mind.

Later, as I rid my machine of the cloth concealment, protecting
the scars laced into my skin. The water boils as I
examine my life-lines, these battle scars, in the mirror and
can only cringe in thought of the disappointment drowning
the faces of those I care about most: their eyes
drooping down with the weight of eyebrows, creased
diagonally, half shock and the other half burning
discontentment. They purse their lips and stab my eyes
with their daggers, when I chuckle nervously.

I shake my head of these thoughts from my speculation and
step into the steam, hoping the heat could help me
feel again. However, the fire does not scorch my
body, nor incinerate the emptiness, it only slides
down the marble sculpture my body feels to be
(equivalent to the concrete barrier that builds behind my eyes)
Niki Gray Jul 2019
Pain is better than numbness,
because at least I can feel
my life not just move through it.
Thank you for taking the time to read my poetry.  Also a thank you to all my family and friends that remind me to be the best me I can be.  Thank you Sheela, Courtney, Christian, Favour, my daughter Sydney and my son James.  Also, a big thank you to my husband Jim.
Mandalina Oct 2018
I'm on the edge
and I'm falling over slowly

I'm falling down
and I'm crashing on the ground

I can feel the tears building up
but I don't know how to cry

I can feel my need
but I don't want to cave in

But tonight I'm weak
and I'm afraid my addiction will win

I'm on the edge
and relapse is all I see



-j.m.k
September Roses Jul 2018
When the day comes
That my light leaves
And I go to descend
What ever will they do with me
All the way down there
Where fire pours like rain
Main population: pain
The one place
in the earth,
sure to drive you insane
I suppose they would start normally
With a burning stake
Or pitchfork
But what ever would they do,
When those things just dont work?
I suppose they'd try to drown me
In oil
Or flames
But when a smile
forms across face
They'll see
I like the pain
So this might go on for centuries
They'd try as well
To hurt my mind
But when all they find is numbness
Well
I might get hired
Chris Calkins Jan 2018
My lips are too numb
From lack of kisses
And I must miss you again
Missing my girlfriend a lot and yeah.
J Jul 2019
As the honey drips from his lips
not a sound
only guilt
as he felt
his emotions
slip away.....
CallMeVenus Nov 2017
I must ruin your fantasies now
because there will never be beauty in such pain that makes you want to set yourself on fire

No beauty in having the power of making your parents think you are not safe if you do not pick up your phone or in causing them to have panic attacks every time you lock the door

There is no beauty in having a chance and not taking it because there is something wrong with you and you feel so ungradeful because no matter how messed up you might be, many others have it worse

There is no beauty in wanting to get cancer and die so you wouldn't have to do it yourself because it would hurt others less

There is no beauty in the chaos of staying in bed for weeks in a *****, messy apartment and lying about your life being in order

There is no beauty in sleepless nights
Eaten up by ether pain and guilt or numbness and debating whether you should let yourself live another day because you sure as hell know you are what people call a parasite and you don't deserve to be significant to other people

There is no beauty in being a coward and doing absolutely nothing with your life when there is only one thing you have to do, yet you stay in an overly expensive apartment all by yourself  wishing you could just hit the reset button and maybe be born as someone else or not at all

There is no such thing as beauty of madness and there never will be beauty in being me.
YH Jan 2018
I am empty,
unfeeling;
That was what I felt when I met you.

You cried for those who were miserable,
and I only thought it vain.
You fought so vigilantly for everything,
and I did the same,
with my own perspective.

You were a child with big dreams.
I was the adult with true realism.

But I was trying.
I only dreamt of a world with you.
I did not realize of the destruction I was capable of,
and I was not aware of the calamity that lived within me.

I had lost you,
and only did I know then
that I was never empty.

I was filled with the existence of you.

And now you are gone.

So tell me,
what am I now?

— Y.H.

lost love,
gentle fervor.
Is this what you have felt, all this while?
This sorrow.

Lord,
before I knew,
I had turned things to the inevitable.

(c) Y.H.
an0nym0us Feb 2018
An angel, fair and pure
Who's heart is fragile and unsecured
Stolen and hurt with no cure
Wounded with hidden clue.

Great pain and sorrow
But tears doesn't follow
Nothing is inside her, a hollow
Now her past follows.

All because of a man
Who she loved and obeyed every command
Gifted him happiness that lasts
Left her with her heart in his hand.

How rude, how unfair
But I give you a dare
Give her eyes a good stare
Then tell me if you ever care...

You can say "how ungrateful he can be?!"
But I tell you, how blind can you be??
If you can't see,
Till this time you read me.
MJ L Nov 2014
My bones became the
benches for the feeble.

A sparrow’s flight could
Take me off my numbness.

At least my bones are not
That brittle.
Adrianna Jul 2018
I began my life active with sports and other meaningless award systems.
Girl's recreational soccer, basketball, bike riding, math competitions, the works
Today, I feel weightless
useless would be best fit
As if all the running, jumping, yelling, point requiring statuses pushed the light out of my transitioned life.

I find myself sitting in one area often, as one may do
But different than sitting on a bench or sitting actively in company of others
I sit wondering exactly who I am looking at
Why am I empty lifeless longing towards an imaginary spot in the distant wall
I imagine some events in these minutes of stoic despair
Hearing goes weak and frozen, in this second, while I continue my Sunday brunch with non-conformative attitudes and her mother, the sweet old dementia
I don't mean to have their meetings often, I must of first acquainted as the first grade trauma or the Broadway rendition of Alone Thoughts featuring the Broken High School Years.
I hope to work the wheels again, to end these meetings and to live for once, in the midst of motion and pause.
This time, stopping and starting as I please.
Hi everyone, this is my first poem! I write a lot when I am thinking of my life and this world. Hope you enjoy
InsertPenName Oct 2018
What is sadness for the mind of madness
It might be odd to bear witness, but the mighty warrior who welds words like weapons
With shield of indifference, will no yield under falling havens
What hurts is that small tinker of needle
Plucked from the rose we touched in haste
What is sadness for the mind of madness
It's saying take care instead of I love you
It's saying goodnight instead of I miss you
It's saying bye instead of stay
But no, we'll not say… will not plead
For the painkiller needs to be kept on the shelf
Not be taken as a meal
A toxic relief, Not something that they need to keep, note to self stitched in skin : keep away
What's happiness to the mind of madness
It's fear nothing else
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
~
Shaking body
Cold acid boiling at my skin
Words branded into my horrid flesh
Putrid bile sloshing inside my stomach
Knife-like stings shooting through my fingertips
Icy cold numbness throughout my limbs
Pigment in my face turning ghostly pale
A hollow pit where my intestines should be
Rapid heartbeats, and quick breathing
Fatigue at the thought of living
Dizzy and disoriented
Lost
~
Wanting to sleep forever
Wanting to wake up from this nightmare
Secret May 2019
I wanted to be near him.
I wanted him to love me.
I wanted to always be there for him.
I wanted to impress him.
I wanted to always feel this way.
I wanted to be more than friends.
I wanted to be just like her.
I wanted to be skinny.
I wanted to be loved by him.
I've wanted that for so long, but
.
.
.
I don't think I want anything anymore.
just a little vent
Empire Jun 2019
Everything’s cold inside
Blissfully numb
Stupidly happy
I know some days
I truly hate it
But today...
This is heaven
Jack Jenkins Sep 2018
It cannot be described
only imbibed
through many sorrows
and sorries
until the pain
recedes to numbness
your compass
points to death
& you see the peace it brings
the silence
the darkness
you make your mind up
maybe not today
or tomorrow
but you know
you're going to die by your own hand
& you feel
just a brief
fleeting
happiness

...

that's the sound of suicide
//On anxiety, suicide, and darkness//
Not in a good headspace right now. Thank you for your concerns, I just needed to vent this.
Ciel Nov 2018
I was hurting, suffering
From a pain so great,
That words, screams and tears
Were not enough.

So I did the only thing
I knew how to:
I danced,
And danced,
And danced some more.

I danced
Until my feet bled,
And my vision was blurry
From the sweat and fatigue;
Until I was breathing so hard
That it burned my lungs;
Until I could no longer feel
My legs aching;
Until my lips were so dry and chapped,
It hurt to smile or move them at all.

I let the music carry me,
And with every note,
With every beat,
I would imagine a string
Attaching to my limbs
Allowing me to lose control,
Allowing me to surrender
Until I was no longer in charge
Of my movements.

It felt good.
That pain felt comforting.
Normal. I understood it.
It let me know I was alive still.
It let me know I could still feel something.
And so I welcomed it.
For it was nothing compared
To the one that I felt inside.

The one that was invisible,
Yet suffocating me with its presence.
The one that left me numb every night.
The one that filled me up with fear
And still drained me of all emotions.

The one I tried to ignore,
But seemed to never leave.
Always stalking me,
Hiding in the shadows
Waiting for its moment.
A moment of weakness,
Of solitude
Or ultimate numbness,
A moment I was terrified
Would soon come.
I know this poem is sad and sombre but it is how I felt and I know a lot of people can relate. One thing I would like to say however is that it gets better. It really does. Once you decide to get better, you will.
Blake Dec 2018
For he with the blonde curls,
Who set you from stone to glass,
For he with greyness and age,
Who set you from virtue to lust,
And for the fathers who warned,
Who set you in a statue of shame,
With his constant looks of disbelieving.

For she with the stars of freckles,
Who set you from glass to shards,
For she with the condensation of coldness,
Who set you on route to loneliness,
And for the mothers who neglected,
Who set you with no comfort,
With no help after the males visited.

For the creaks of floorboards,
Threatening unholy arrival,
For the thousands of bed squeaks,
Helping by gifting distraction,
For the hotel clerks gentle knowing smiles,
As the crack within my mind soften,
For the cheeks I can force upwards,
For the sacred of tears that disappeared with new numbness,
For the child within me who had such urgency to grow up,
And for me...for me.
Kayla Chappell Jul 2019
As the day seems to fade,
My numbness does too.
All the darkness comes to surface

Hello, hi.
Remember me?
I’m Miss blue,
hiding in the corner of the room.

Did you miss me?
You know, I missed you.

The giggles evaporated to knives
Now all pointed at me
They cry of piercing noises in my ears

Cruel words is all i can hear
Convincing that this is me.

The whispers in the back of the room,
now screeching, like nails on chalkboards
Expressing what they want me to believe.

Here comes the feeling, I know all too well.
Not being able to breathe.
Throwing my pennies in the wishing well,
Wishing for love
Wishing not to feel’

Once again, a new perspective pushes through.
Everything is always changing, therefore these times will fade too.
So for I know,
this feeling, won’t always be stuck to me
Like glue.

But then I wonder,
Do normal people fantasize about their funeral too?
Sweet whispers of a beautiful tragic, spread through the room, “Gone too soon.”
Or “ I wish I would have knew”
Better cut those thoughts,
Before they consume you.

Nights like these, familiar in taste.
Unpredictable
And lonely in soul.
Screaming in spirit, for a place called home.
Uncontrollable emotions. Release it all.

Cry on the floor, if that’s what you need to do.
Just know, your spirit will rise through,
Your soul will be cleansed once the storm is over
And your eyes will see anew.

You will see past the old truth that you once knew
From a different perspective;
Yet the same point of view

Crying so much, my eyes start to bleed.
And they plead;
For love, for warmth.
For eyes that I adore.

Somewhere this must exist,
Far away from here.
Or maybe I can find it
Residing within myself.

We create our own kind of hell
or permanent bliss.
It depends on which you want to hear.

Well i’ll start with this,

Here comes the reaching upward of the soul

I hope you will believe, even as the light turns to dusk

The same light that shines from the sun
And illuminates the moon
Exists within you, too.

The magic starts with this ☆
Right now, right here
In this mirror
This is probably my favorite poem I have ever written. It starts off about this "monster" or voice inside the back of my head telling me all these awful things about myself, but as time goes on I can't differentiate the voice and these cruel words start to sound like the truth. Only until I start to realize, these feelings and times will change. So I hold on, I hold on to the light that we all share.. those who suffer, we fight.. we fight everyday, with a smile on our face to the world. They have no idea, but we know we are warriors.
I truly would like to hear feedback on what people think of this piece. Listen with an open heart. Thank you
Julia Ruth Aug 2018
Raw
Those nights
When  you just lie there
And stare into space
And that feeling of your heart being ripped and tossed
Is on loop
With the same song playing over
And over
And over
Again
your eyes shut and the numbness ceases with your dreams
But you wake up
With your sheets stained of tear dried mascara
And that raw feeling
And your lips pale
Because the pain doesn’t stop when he’s gone
#alone #dark#numb #sad #anxiety
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