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"overdramatic" poems
Sarah Sarah is a virgo
 but she is no ******
 She is full of experience,
 and im not talking about *** or drugs. 
( though she had her fair share.) 
Im talking about life. 
Sarah hasnt lived in a fairy tale,
 but if she did,
 she would be a prince. 
She is charming, 
bold,
 kind, 
and tenacious. 
Sarah would **** a dragon 
just to make sure you were safe. 
She will make you laugh, 
and iron soap,
 Dancing as she watches you with 
her precious knowledge of Amity. 
Sarah will hold you when you cry,
 and she will tell you its okay to be sad.
 Sarah had her vision turn gray when she was a child; 
words tore at her skin,
 but she is still alive.
 Her vision turned back to technicolor 
but that doesn’t mean it won’t turn back to gray.
 Sarah dosent like to talk about herself, 
but you can talk to her,
 She will help you see the world.
 If you can’t see the flowers Sarah will hold your hand and 
sing you a picture.
 Sarah holds all of her friends, 
there names taped to the front of her heart.
 She plants her seed of friendship
 deep in the roots of your garden.
 You dont need to meet her more than once,
 you can tell that she is always there. 
Sarah can be mean,
 but thats just cause shes tired. 
Sarah carries the troubles she has with her, 
they are wrapped with the sign 
“do not enter” 
but she dosen’t let them weigh her down.
 Sarah dosent ask for help 
she is given it,
 and she will always return the favor
 but she will complain about you giving 
even before you finish your task. 
Sarah is a mystery,
 She smokes a lot of 
cigarettes
 but she still 
smells like 
 Sarah.
 She is far from perfect,
 she animates her life with overdramatic hand movements
 and tells her wisdom with sonnets or
 Monologues from act i scene ii,
 She plays overtures from her heart,
 and talks lyrics from her soul.
 Sarah is a musical of a life 
full of future.
 She is a name in lights 
not yet recognized.
 Sarah hasn’t finished her life yet, but she is the lines
 of poetry, and songs 
not yet written. 
Sarah adds years to peoples lives.
 Sarah is a friend,
 and im happy to know her 
even if a short minute of her hourglass 
is all I ever see.
0
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
For Sarah
Sarah Sarah is a virgo
 but she is no ******
 She is full of experience,
 and im not talking about *** or drugs. 
( though she had her fair share.) 
Im talking about life. 
Sarah hasnt lived in a fairy tale,
 but if she did,
 she would be a prince. 
She is charming, 
bold,
 kind, 
and tenacious. 
Sarah would **** a dragon 
just to make sure you were safe. 
She will make you laugh, 
and iron soap,
 Dancing as she watches you with 
her precious knowledge of Amity. 
Sarah will hold you when you cry,
 and she will tell you its okay to be sad.
 Sarah had her vision turn gray when she was a child; 
words tore at her skin,
 but she is still alive.
 Her vision turned back to technicolor 
but that doesn’t mean it won’t turn back to gray.
 Sarah dosent like to talk about herself, 
but you can talk to her,
 She will help you see the world.
 If you can’t see the flowers Sarah will hold your hand and 
sing you a picture.
 Sarah holds all of her friends, 
there names taped to the front of her heart.
 She plants her seed of friendship
 deep in the roots of your garden.
 You dont need to meet her more than once,
 you can tell that she is always there. 
Sarah can be mean,
 but thats just cause shes tired. 
Sarah carries the troubles she has with her, 
they are wrapped with the sign 
“do not enter” 
but she dosen’t let them weigh her down.
 Sarah dosent ask for help 
she is given it,
 and she will always return the favor
 but she will complain about you giving 
even before you finish your task. 
Sarah is a mystery,
 She smokes a lot of 
cigarettes
 but she still 
smells like 
 Sarah.
 She is far from perfect,
 she animates her life with overdramatic hand movements
 and tells her wisdom with sonnets or
 Monologues from act i scene ii,
 She plays overtures from her heart,
 and talks lyrics from her soul.
 Sarah is a musical of a life 
full of future.
 She is a name in lights 
not yet recognized.
 Sarah hasn’t finished her life yet, but she is the lines
 of poetry, and songs 
not yet written. 
Sarah adds years to peoples lives.
 Sarah is a friend,
 and im happy to know her 
even if a short minute of her hourglass 
is all I ever see.
Continue reading...
67
If you see her again before I do, tell her the way she left left me shaking like a winter windchime; the song too frozen to melt on her tongue. I am scared of all her moving on. The only serious love poems I write are about the same person who hides God in her hair and shows me the lingerie she bought while I try to unfog my glasses to look at her straight. I am too convinced that she is made up of lines that lead straight to my firework skin. There has been too many explosions here. The only way to deal with missing you is to tell you and wait and see if you feel the same. Or novacane. I imagine you taste like an acid trip... all conspiracy theories and sugary words too sober to ever speak. If you see her again before I do, tell her that I am a mess without her. That my mind only settles with her tear-stained cheeks and the only way I can see the ocean in the winter in Canada is to look into her eyes. I am scared that I am being overdramatic. I want to rub our wrists together so we can trade scars. Tell me the story of how you met your best friend and I'll tell you the story of how I fell out of loving my mother. I would rather listen to you ramble than check the time. If you see her again before I do, tell her that on the way home from her arms I counted 1200 streetlamps, 13 lovers, 3 liquor stores and 72 shakes of my knees. Tell her I miss her like Frances misses Kurt. Like dive bars miss blues music. When I see you again, lover, I'll tell you that when you told me your name two years ago, I was surprised that it wasn't Love.
0
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 10:31 PM UTC
the first and last love poem
If you see her again before I do, tell her the way she left left me shaking like a winter windchime; the song too frozen to melt on her tongue. I am scared of all her moving on. The only serious love poems I write are about the same person who hides God in her hair and shows me the lingerie she bought while I try to unfog my glasses to look at her straight. I am too convinced that she is made up of lines that lead straight to my firework skin. There has been too many explosions here. The only way to deal with missing you is to tell you and wait and see if you feel the same. Or novacane. I imagine you taste like an acid trip... all conspiracy theories and sugary words too sober to ever speak. If you see her again before I do, tell her that I am a mess without her. That my mind only settles with her tear-stained cheeks and the only way I can see the ocean in the winter in Canada is to look into her eyes. I am scared that I am being overdramatic. I want to rub our wrists together so we can trade scars. Tell me the story of how you met your best friend and I'll tell you the story of how I fell out of loving my mother. I would rather listen to you ramble than check the time. If you see her again before I do, tell her that on the way home from her arms I counted 1200 streetlamps, 13 lovers, 3 liquor stores and 72 shakes of my knees. Tell her I miss her like Frances misses Kurt. Like dive bars miss blues music. When I see you again, lover, I'll tell you that when you told me your name two years ago, I was surprised that it wasn't Love.
Continue reading...
15
[i'm sorry. i'm not very good at love letters. i've confessed my love to more angels than real people, but please hear me out on this.] to the girl i ran into yesterday, with love from the girl who ran into you yesterday i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you. you left a handprint on my heart (a literal one; your fingers curved over my collarbone like you were afraid you would break me) i have cigarette butts for nerve endings and i'm pretty sure that you must be a lit match because i haven't felt this alive in seventeen years please tell me you feel the same way. i just want to feel your heart beat against mine, and i know we've only just met, i know you will probably never come to this bookstore again, but if you say no i will pretend that this is a letter to the galaxy (my favorite constellation is the one stretching across your shoulders; a thousand and one stars disguised as freckles play connect the dots with ligaments and fissures) i will pretend that you are not the sun in my solar system and okay, maybe i'm being overdramatic but have you ever looked into someone's eyes and wanted to memorize every fleck of gold you see i wrote down the things i want to know about you, a wishlist ten miles long with nothing but your name on it i wonder how you'd react if i held your hand in public the sea swelling up to meet us there are wires from my heart to yours and i know there is approximately an 86.3% chance you will never see this love letter but i wished on a star for something real and then i ran into you (i'm sorry again. i hope you enjoy to **** a mockingbird. it's one of my favorites.) i hope your hair is still a preposterous shade of blue because it makes your eyes look like constellations do you want to form a galaxy with me? to the girl i ran into yesterday, who wore bright pink flip flops and had a tattoo of a star on her left anklebone, i think i'm in love with you please reply at your earliest convenience.
0
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
bookstore love letter
[i'm sorry. i'm not very good at love letters. i've confessed my love to more angels than real people, but please hear me out on this.] to the girl i ran into yesterday, with love from the girl who ran into you yesterday i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you. you left a handprint on my heart (a literal one; your fingers curved over my collarbone like you were afraid you would break me) i have cigarette butts for nerve endings and i'm pretty sure that you must be a lit match because i haven't felt this alive in seventeen years please tell me you feel the same way. i just want to feel your heart beat against mine, and i know we've only just met, i know you will probably never come to this bookstore again, but if you say no i will pretend that this is a letter to the galaxy (my favorite constellation is the one stretching across your shoulders; a thousand and one stars disguised as freckles play connect the dots with ligaments and fissures) i will pretend that you are not the sun in my solar system and okay, maybe i'm being overdramatic but have you ever looked into someone's eyes and wanted to memorize every fleck of gold you see i wrote down the things i want to know about you, a wishlist ten miles long with nothing but your name on it i wonder how you'd react if i held your hand in public the sea swelling up to meet us there are wires from my heart to yours and i know there is approximately an 86.3% chance you will never see this love letter but i wished on a star for something real and then i ran into you (i'm sorry again. i hope you enjoy to **** a mockingbird. it's one of my favorites.) i hope your hair is still a preposterous shade of blue because it makes your eyes look like constellations do you want to form a galaxy with me? to the girl i ran into yesterday, who wore bright pink flip flops and had a tattoo of a star on her left anklebone, i think i'm in love with you please reply at your earliest convenience.
Continue reading...
29
1. you may feel that your feelings are illogical.  you may feel stupid for even having them in the first place.  don’t.  you have every right to every feeling you are feeling. 2. getting the feelings to go away will be difficult.  the more you think about how you wish you didn’t have them, the longer you will.  it’s okay.  you’ll move on eventually. 3. you may have thought they were perfect, the only one for you.  that will fade.  soon you’ll find the real one who will be everything you thought they were and more. 4. breathe. 5. remember that in a few years, they’ll just be someone you used to know. 6. silently watching them with someone else will eat you up.  it will hurt more than anything.  you’ll feel alone and overdramatic for feeling so much for them.  in these times especially you need to do all you can to get them out of your mind.  i know it’s hard.  find an outlet; surround yourself with friends; indulge in reading or running or whatever you like to do.  focus on yourself and not them. 7. breathe. 8. breathe. 9. breathe. 10. you know deep inside that they are just a tiny corner of the big picture.  everything will be okay.  tell yourself that every day.
0
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 12:58 PM UTC
how to get over someone you never dated
Good Day spoken in a bad austrailian accent bad juju voodoo clear light poltergeist on disablity Hoarding every scrap of miserable memories attached to trash your apartment is a holiday for nightmares and childmolesters ******* magazines, old sanitary napkins , bad vhs movies lay like dead soldiers waiting for the war to end Black bags and boxes scattered every where are villages to rats and every unknown pestilence you can only read about in medical textbooks. half eaten pizzas covered in pickles dried up sadly looking at empty pills You have no hold on me I can't understand your pain nor will i listen to your overdramatic ******** about whoever or scheming to defraud Walmart Your mutilation is a scar spelling sociopathic miscreant child trapped in an old mismatched shell of no clear gender. Your diagnostic prophecies from the dsm5 dismissed like school on a snow day. Will commands the unentanglement uncurse unfear dispell all your contradictions accusations monologrhthyms bad music choices and echoes of muttered mustard. only truth will be uplifted Peace be with you whereever you are currently infesting enjoy your dora the explorer ice cream Was there ever a floor in here?
0
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 12:53 AM UTC
good day
I just sent an email to my Mom. Part of me feels it Part of me wonders if I'm overdramatic I feel like **** Like, I feel different than when I felt depressed But this is still not a place I want to be Consistent Draining I never feel ok anymore. I'm not even sure what ok feels like. I keep wanting to drink for all the wrong reasons I never get drunk But I always want to reach that happy nirvana That "tipsy enough to forget all your worries" place There's something seriously wrong with me I haven't actually talked to my family in AZ for over a month I schedule skype dates with a woman I'll probably never see again More than I do with my own father. What type of **** is that? I looked at **** I ****** myself today. I feel like the biggest piece of **** this planet has seen. I also lack self forgiveness. I got an email back from a priest today. I told him I'd be interested in joining the priesthood I realized I might have been lying, But honestly, I don't even know! I feel like I'm sitting on my thumb, Trying to figure out the world as it Races by me, Unwilling to stop and allow me to catch my breath Or read the signs or understand a **** shred of anything This is what I'm talking about Part of me feels this, And the other part just scoffs, and says I'm melodramatic *Pick yourself up Dust yourself off and figure out what the hell you're doing* I feel so alone anymore. Like, if there's not someone by my side I somehow lack basic humanity. Like I need someone to be there If they aren't, I'm obviously not worth much I closed the blinds four different times today. I didn't want the neighbors to see my actions. After a certain point, I closed them to watch a movie And I haven't opened them back up, even though it would probably cheer me up a great deal This is probably one of the longest "poems" I've ever written. It's not poetry, it's freestyle Not like it matters, It's like an art major defining the different strokes that an artist used in a painting Like I give a **** It's still a painting Lent is one of the hardest times of the year. I feel it with every fiber of my being. Nothing about this situation makes me feel ok. I feel out of body, out of mind, out of soul. I'm pretty sure, at this point, St. Peter wouldn't let me in. In my heart of hearts I want it desperately, but The rest of me still says no. I'm so messed up it's ridiculous. And I sent an email to my mom chronicling her son's failures Her son's issues, And why, Her son Needs to go back to a counselor Because I'll be ****** if he's not "fixed" yet.
0
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 6:15 PM UTC
It started with an email
I just sent an email to my Mom. Part of me feels it Part of me wonders if I'm overdramatic I feel like **** Like, I feel different than when I felt depressed But this is still not a place I want to be Consistent Draining I never feel ok anymore. I'm not even sure what ok feels like. I keep wanting to drink for all the wrong reasons I never get drunk But I always want to reach that happy nirvana That "tipsy enough to forget all your worries" place There's something seriously wrong with me I haven't actually talked to my family in AZ for over a month I schedule skype dates with a woman I'll probably never see again More than I do with my own father. What type of **** is that? I looked at **** I ****** myself today. I feel like the biggest piece of **** this planet has seen. I also lack self forgiveness. I got an email back from a priest today. I told him I'd be interested in joining the priesthood I realized I might have been lying, But honestly, I don't even know! I feel like I'm sitting on my thumb, Trying to figure out the world as it Races by me, Unwilling to stop and allow me to catch my breath Or read the signs or understand a **** shred of anything This is what I'm talking about Part of me feels this, And the other part just scoffs, and says I'm melodramatic *Pick yourself up Dust yourself off and figure out what the hell you're doing* I feel so alone anymore. Like, if there's not someone by my side I somehow lack basic humanity. Like I need someone to be there If they aren't, I'm obviously not worth much I closed the blinds four different times today. I didn't want the neighbors to see my actions. After a certain point, I closed them to watch a movie And I haven't opened them back up, even though it would probably cheer me up a great deal This is probably one of the longest "poems" I've ever written. It's not poetry, it's freestyle Not like it matters, It's like an art major defining the different strokes that an artist used in a painting Like I give a **** It's still a painting Lent is one of the hardest times of the year. I feel it with every fiber of my being. Nothing about this situation makes me feel ok. I feel out of body, out of mind, out of soul. I'm pretty sure, at this point, St. Peter wouldn't let me in. In my heart of hearts I want it desperately, but The rest of me still says no. I'm so messed up it's ridiculous. And I sent an email to my mom chronicling her son's failures Her son's issues, And why, Her son Needs to go back to a counselor Because I'll be ****** if he's not "fixed" yet.
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70
The last time I saw you, you were standing there at the gate, watching me walk away   I was trying to look cool, like nostalgia in motion That’s a difficult thing to pull off when you’re constantly looking back  You were smiling and waving, like it was all gonna be alright I secretly hated you for that   Everything in my being screamed at me to turn around, to run back to you I wanted to take your hand in mine and pull you out of there like Wayne did to Cassandra… Only I didn’t I did my duty I turned around one last time at the end of the longest hallway in the world and stole one last look Blinking back the burning sensation in my eyeballs and the tightness in my throat And then I plodded on Just like I was supposed to I had a stabbing pain in my gut like things would never be the same again Like the WE we were was dying and going away forever   At the time I dismissed that sharp unbearable thought as sentimental weakness The sloshy musings of an admittedly overdramatic youth   Never would’ve guessed my gut knew so much more than my thirsty brain With its linear logic and high powered deductive reasoning I told myself we’d be together again soon I told myself to focus on the task at hand, and you’d be the reward waiting for me at the end of it all The bright white light at the end of my long dark tunnel   I told myself you’d be the sunshine on the other side of the mountain Knowing somewhere deep down it wasn’t true   Knowing somewhere deep down, that the WE we were Now existed only in my fondest memories Only in the dark moments I would occasionally indulge on the cool side of my pillow I turned around And walked out of your life
0
Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 12:50 PM UTC
Love Letter
The last time I saw you, you were standing there at the gate, watching me walk away   I was trying to look cool, like nostalgia in motion That’s a difficult thing to pull off when you’re constantly looking back  You were smiling and waving, like it was all gonna be alright I secretly hated you for that   Everything in my being screamed at me to turn around, to run back to you I wanted to take your hand in mine and pull you out of there like Wayne did to Cassandra… Only I didn’t I did my duty I turned around one last time at the end of the longest hallway in the world and stole one last look Blinking back the burning sensation in my eyeballs and the tightness in my throat And then I plodded on Just like I was supposed to I had a stabbing pain in my gut like things would never be the same again Like the WE we were was dying and going away forever   At the time I dismissed that sharp unbearable thought as sentimental weakness The sloshy musings of an admittedly overdramatic youth   Never would’ve guessed my gut knew so much more than my thirsty brain With its linear logic and high powered deductive reasoning I told myself we’d be together again soon I told myself to focus on the task at hand, and you’d be the reward waiting for me at the end of it all The bright white light at the end of my long dark tunnel   I told myself you’d be the sunshine on the other side of the mountain Knowing somewhere deep down it wasn’t true   Knowing somewhere deep down, that the WE we were Now existed only in my fondest memories Only in the dark moments I would occasionally indulge on the cool side of my pillow I turned around And walked out of your life
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29
tonight i lost it a little and it's not even night it's morning just to be clear start over... this MORNING i lost it a little and i don't know how to be better i talked at a white shining light on my computer i vented at a webcam for thirty minutes and i looked myself in the face and tried to tell me it'd be alright but the words choked me and i couldn't get them out and im not trying to be an overdramatic ******* a whiner or a ****** kid i just have abandonment issues and cutting and wantingtodietoomuch issues and i feel like everyone is biding their time waiting to leave me and i feel like i can't sew up the child-sized holes in my dad's heart and it's ******* father's day and i can't even do that i can't ******* replace the nine other kids that should be here i can't make up for that i am just one person one daughter and i cannot make my daddy better and i hate it happy ******* father's day
0
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 4:43 AM UTC
elephant tears
The unfortunate part: I didn't lose my vision nor attraction
0
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 2:09 AM UTC
Overdramatic
Ugh, humidity Pressing in Suffocating  Sticking to everything To you and me but not us, together This is not the good kind of sticking of skin on skin, nervous sweaty palm in nervous sweaty palm. This is the kind that just makes life uncomfortable and unpleasant But at least God has thought this through and gave us the rain to go with it Rain is beautiful Intoxicating Purifying I want to get drenched.  Soaked. I want to be free Rain is free. Ha, I'm not a poet, or a writer I'm just an overdramatic hormonal angsty teenage girl  that likes to put down her feelings in her phone notes And hopes that someone will read and understand  but at the same time  wants to remain  unknown.
0
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
Humidity
I can just simply tell you how tired I am but it's something that's been done before over and over so I will describe it. arms are loose, hanging down in defeat at my sides, knuckles dragging against the ground, hair unwashed for yet another day because I just can't get myself to stand and walk into the bathroom, much less turn on the shower, much less let myself stand under the droplets. I'm screaming, eager to be normal, to stop feeling like this, but nothing changes, ever. muscles in my face pull, then I'm smiling, and they smile back, and it falls. the pain in my chest grows sharp, both in pain and in realization; I'm dying. I reach for a star, and it stings in return. I drag my hand away, muttering apologies, and cradle the wound against my ribs, swallowing back my words. walking is hard, sleeping is hard, moving is hard, breathing is hard. I'm not going to get any better. I long for that shower, but I'll stay in the mud. I'll roll in it, until the dirt sticks under my nails, painting them mocha. I'll have grass for hair, beetles for eyes, and a worm for a thin smile. I can't wash this away anymore. I'm but a drumset playing in an empty room, falling out of tune, angrily bashing myself in until I'm nothing at all but unrecognizable pieces, floating away with a whisper. I take a drag of the world, it corrodes my lungs, and yet I dare not cry out in pain, there's no room for that right now, I have to exhale. but with the breath comes my guts, pooling out and piling onto the ground, wetly smacking against one another like slabs of meat, wriggling like snakes, hissing as if it were a spark doused in water. I'm being emptied out, to make room for something else, perhaps the hit will create a new little ecosystem, maybe they'll create serotonin enough to fill me. I'll rot, and the maggots will dance across my flesh, digging until they find something worthy to feast upon, spreading the flesh with their want, I'll be a part of something that lets creatures live, and then I'll one day become something worth loving, saving, caring for. but for now, I'm nothing but a sensitive overdramatic piece of complete **** sitting alone in their room with music no one gives a **** about on repeat, praying to the Gods and Goddesses their girlfriend calls them so they don't **** up their arm again. but there's no ringing, just the drum alone in the white room.
0
Dec 3, 2020
Dec 3, 2020 at 8:28 PM UTC
Exhausting
I can just simply tell you how tired I am but it's something that's been done before over and over so I will describe it. arms are loose, hanging down in defeat at my sides, knuckles dragging against the ground, hair unwashed for yet another day because I just can't get myself to stand and walk into the bathroom, much less turn on the shower, much less let myself stand under the droplets. I'm screaming, eager to be normal, to stop feeling like this, but nothing changes, ever. muscles in my face pull, then I'm smiling, and they smile back, and it falls. the pain in my chest grows sharp, both in pain and in realization; I'm dying. I reach for a star, and it stings in return. I drag my hand away, muttering apologies, and cradle the wound against my ribs, swallowing back my words. walking is hard, sleeping is hard, moving is hard, breathing is hard. I'm not going to get any better. I long for that shower, but I'll stay in the mud. I'll roll in it, until the dirt sticks under my nails, painting them mocha. I'll have grass for hair, beetles for eyes, and a worm for a thin smile. I can't wash this away anymore. I'm but a drumset playing in an empty room, falling out of tune, angrily bashing myself in until I'm nothing at all but unrecognizable pieces, floating away with a whisper. I take a drag of the world, it corrodes my lungs, and yet I dare not cry out in pain, there's no room for that right now, I have to exhale. but with the breath comes my guts, pooling out and piling onto the ground, wetly smacking against one another like slabs of meat, wriggling like snakes, hissing as if it were a spark doused in water. I'm being emptied out, to make room for something else, perhaps the hit will create a new little ecosystem, maybe they'll create serotonin enough to fill me. I'll rot, and the maggots will dance across my flesh, digging until they find something worthy to feast upon, spreading the flesh with their want, I'll be a part of something that lets creatures live, and then I'll one day become something worth loving, saving, caring for. but for now, I'm nothing but a sensitive overdramatic piece of complete **** sitting alone in their room with music no one gives a **** about on repeat, praying to the Gods and Goddesses their girlfriend calls them so they don't **** up their arm again. but there's no ringing, just the drum alone in the white room.
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17
I sit here and ponder As a trailblazer, No A pioneer, No A lazy explorer, Whatever that means, but sure On a relatably aspect, I'm really just a simple court jester A third wheel passenger A classic trope The main guy, brushed off by those who used to claim to care Ignored like a wondering stranger Both lead actor and expendable, None playable character A name not worth trying to remember Never a shred of credit offered either An already undesirable role turned disaster picture Struggling to hold it together Both as a lover and a fighter, Man and provider An overdramatic graphic designer, Not a producer Also fighting nature as a stand alone reality denier Because "it's not fair" ...or whatever A true, true believer ...in what though? I'm still not sure, Go figure ©2024
0
Mar 17, 2024
Mar 17, 2024 at 2:20 PM UTC
~•§•~ A Misunderstood Jester ~•§•~
hotel deaths are so overdramatic they're just random people who checked in for a day's rest that just happened to last forever and hotel suicides home's not a five star but all of the murders because they were still found after they shaved half their heads and dyed what's left red and changed their names and wore green contacts and hurried the **** up to hide hotels are petri dishes for killing bacteria.
0
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
hotels
Question: What do you do if your car crashes? Answer: Don't crash your car. I drove myself home from the hospital the morning after I drove myself insane. A note in my hand listing ways the doctors could direct to get me home safe from my own self. Come to a full stop at sharp edges, Steer away from liquids you can drown in, Put in your caution lights so people just drive around you, Take your medicine, Don't drive alone, No not that medicine Here's a phone number in case you have something worth saying, Bus to class, Unless that's too hard. Flunk out Call your mother. Don't tell her everything. And it becomes a challenge just to say I'm not okay. Because after a disaster like mine, No one wants to hear you haven't healed yet. And I can't count the number of times I've been offered a vaccine instead of a remedy, and scoffed at when the cast comes off and I'm still a little too broken. As if I haven't healed fast enough. Don't tell me I'm being overdramatic, Don't tell me I chose the broken glass, the bending steal. That it was all avoidable had I just not blinked, Had I just slowed down and stopped to think Had I just snapped out of it. I wouldn't have crashed. Question: Have you ever gone driving in the rain? In the snow? Cause then you might know how it feels to lose just a little bit of control. And the next moment find yourself in the bottom of a ditch, waiting once again for someone to pull you from the wreckage Because you can't save yourself. I wanna save myself.   And I don't need to know how the engine works. Just teach me to read the warning signs when I'm heading south and there's no way for me to turn around.   Let me know that when I start to let go, there are safety nets 'cause sometimes my mind is more of a balancing act, the bridge accident than a joy ride So give me air bags, give me seat belts, Give me a crash test dummy. If I cut the brake lines, show me how to coast to a stop. Because people cannot live in a plastic bubble, rolling around at 5 mph for the rest of our lives, repeating caution signs: Don't blink, Don't breath, Don't move, Don't freeze, Don't drive, Don't park, Don't live. Don't tell me don't tell me don't tell me this is defensive living Sometimes veering off the road, eyes shut tight on a straightaway covered in obstacles bigger than ourselves is the best we can do to survive. Question: What do you do if your car crashes? Answer: Just crash your car.
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
Crash Course 101
Question: What do you do if your car crashes? Answer: Don't crash your car. I drove myself home from the hospital the morning after I drove myself insane. A note in my hand listing ways the doctors could direct to get me home safe from my own self. Come to a full stop at sharp edges, Steer away from liquids you can drown in, Put in your caution lights so people just drive around you, Take your medicine, Don't drive alone, No not that medicine Here's a phone number in case you have something worth saying, Bus to class, Unless that's too hard. Flunk out Call your mother. Don't tell her everything. And it becomes a challenge just to say I'm not okay. Because after a disaster like mine, No one wants to hear you haven't healed yet. And I can't count the number of times I've been offered a vaccine instead of a remedy, and scoffed at when the cast comes off and I'm still a little too broken. As if I haven't healed fast enough. Don't tell me I'm being overdramatic, Don't tell me I chose the broken glass, the bending steal. That it was all avoidable had I just not blinked, Had I just slowed down and stopped to think Had I just snapped out of it. I wouldn't have crashed. Question: Have you ever gone driving in the rain? In the snow? Cause then you might know how it feels to lose just a little bit of control. And the next moment find yourself in the bottom of a ditch, waiting once again for someone to pull you from the wreckage Because you can't save yourself. I wanna save myself.   And I don't need to know how the engine works. Just teach me to read the warning signs when I'm heading south and there's no way for me to turn around.   Let me know that when I start to let go, there are safety nets 'cause sometimes my mind is more of a balancing act, the bridge accident than a joy ride So give me air bags, give me seat belts, Give me a crash test dummy. If I cut the brake lines, show me how to coast to a stop. Because people cannot live in a plastic bubble, rolling around at 5 mph for the rest of our lives, repeating caution signs: Don't blink, Don't breath, Don't move, Don't freeze, Don't drive, Don't park, Don't live. Don't tell me don't tell me don't tell me this is defensive living Sometimes veering off the road, eyes shut tight on a straightaway covered in obstacles bigger than ourselves is the best we can do to survive. Question: What do you do if your car crashes? Answer: Just crash your car.
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I don't understand it. Everybody want to be a savage. Upscale and overdramatic 90's mentality, I'm still fightin' madness. So tell me What you know about classic? Better think, before you pop off at the mouth and do anything drastic! I never changed I continue to do me 956 to 323 I got power I am father to many prodigies I'm going to stay on top of the game, until they body me. So you made a couple of hits So you qualify as a hitter? Stop calling yourself a killer if you ain't about it ni**a Gotta be outside the box This is why You cannot frame me for any picture! None of you, about the smoke but be so quick to burn it all Just like a swisher! I cannot face time, rather not waste time. Most of you get loco When you be on the liquor My foundation stands by me. This is not vengenace, this is vigor! So stop trying to use my lines You's a stolen-style shifter You ******* stolen-line-spitter I'm not saint. I rather not be a sinner. I tell my child You can do ANYTHING! Daddy will always rock with ya! 2021, new era, new me, I am done ******* with you pretenders!
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Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 12:16 PM UTC
Freestyle: **** Pretend. I'ma Do Me
Dear future self, I wish I were you so I would know if it was possible to stop hating myself. I see other people do it so flawlessly but every time I do I wind up deeper in this dark trench, struggling to keep air in my lungs. It's hard to do when you feel the ocean draining from your body as if the tide were running low for now, creeping farther and farther away from the shore but i don't remember the last time the tide was high; I feel like the waves will never touch the shore again. The ecosystems along the sand are all ******* up because this one small thing has changed; I can't count the number of times I've tried pouring water on the dry beach to trick the world into thinking everything was normal, I wish it were that simple… I wish I could throw up, then maybe the burn of salt water in my throat will remind me that I'm real, that I'm not just some empty cave, echoing for eternity with my sobs, but the water will only leave through my eyes. It runs down my face and stains my faded jeans, spelling out messages to me from the world: "overdramatic" "waste of space" "get over it" How could I possibly get over it when I can't even think clearly? God **** it's so hard to breathe. We as humans used to be able to inhale water without it hurting; it was second nature to us. but we quickly unlearn this the moment we take our first breath; most of us will never need this skill again. I often find myself wondering if I will ever learn how to take in the water like an old friend, so it will stop being painful, if my lungs will ever become numb to the sensation of water trickling into them. Sincerely, A girl too deep in the abyss to dig herself out
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Jun 18, 2015
Jun 18, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
dear future self
Dear future self, I wish I were you so I would know if it was possible to stop hating myself. I see other people do it so flawlessly but every time I do I wind up deeper in this dark trench, struggling to keep air in my lungs. It's hard to do when you feel the ocean draining from your body as if the tide were running low for now, creeping farther and farther away from the shore but i don't remember the last time the tide was high; I feel like the waves will never touch the shore again. The ecosystems along the sand are all ******* up because this one small thing has changed; I can't count the number of times I've tried pouring water on the dry beach to trick the world into thinking everything was normal, I wish it were that simple… I wish I could throw up, then maybe the burn of salt water in my throat will remind me that I'm real, that I'm not just some empty cave, echoing for eternity with my sobs, but the water will only leave through my eyes. It runs down my face and stains my faded jeans, spelling out messages to me from the world: "overdramatic" "waste of space" "get over it" How could I possibly get over it when I can't even think clearly? God **** it's so hard to breathe. We as humans used to be able to inhale water without it hurting; it was second nature to us. but we quickly unlearn this the moment we take our first breath; most of us will never need this skill again. I often find myself wondering if I will ever learn how to take in the water like an old friend, so it will stop being painful, if my lungs will ever become numb to the sensation of water trickling into them. Sincerely, A girl too deep in the abyss to dig herself out
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the truth is I want to die but the truth is my death would hurt more people than my life. for in living it is only I who suffers. and I have discovered that the greatest pain is not in being hated, but in being ignored. and sadly the only way for anyone to really understand what I meant by that is to live through a life of being overlooked. of speaking and never being heard. of wearing masks so everyone can stand being around you. of being constantly told that you are fine when deep down you know your truth. of using tears to clean your face just so you can smile once more. being frustrated at your inability to articulate these feelings into words, failing to realize that there is no way that they could understand what you mean because what you experience, this personal hell, is not in their scope of existence. I could go on but their voices have seeped into all my cracks "it's all in your head" "get over it" "you're just being dramatic" and I end up judging myself feeling less like a person and more like a thing that was made wrong. a misfit a mistake a dysfunctional an oddity an alien a ****** up overdramatic attention-seeker. *everyone has **** why can't you keep yours in line? everyone has pain why can't you fix yourself? just talk about it. let it out. it's easy. what is wrong with you? why can't you just tell me?* I hide tears away like illegal contraband feelings that should not be indulged. I wear smiles like special passes so I can weave my way around society. and all I really want is a little patience a little acceptance. I'm not too much of a freak that I cannot be loved. I promise I'm not so bad. just give me some time I'll be good please?
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Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 6:02 AM UTC
just thoughts. this really isn't even anything.
the truth is I want to die but the truth is my death would hurt more people than my life. for in living it is only I who suffers. and I have discovered that the greatest pain is not in being hated, but in being ignored. and sadly the only way for anyone to really understand what I meant by that is to live through a life of being overlooked. of speaking and never being heard. of wearing masks so everyone can stand being around you. of being constantly told that you are fine when deep down you know your truth. of using tears to clean your face just so you can smile once more. being frustrated at your inability to articulate these feelings into words, failing to realize that there is no way that they could understand what you mean because what you experience, this personal hell, is not in their scope of existence. I could go on but their voices have seeped into all my cracks "it's all in your head" "get over it" "you're just being dramatic" and I end up judging myself feeling less like a person and more like a thing that was made wrong. a misfit a mistake a dysfunctional an oddity an alien a ****** up overdramatic attention-seeker. *everyone has **** why can't you keep yours in line? everyone has pain why can't you fix yourself? just talk about it. let it out. it's easy. what is wrong with you? why can't you just tell me?* I hide tears away like illegal contraband feelings that should not be indulged. I wear smiles like special passes so I can weave my way around society. and all I really want is a little patience a little acceptance. I'm not too much of a freak that I cannot be loved. I promise I'm not so bad. just give me some time I'll be good please?
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"It's just another guy" so you say; still you're spoken for But who's to say a guy won't at least try "It's just another guy" so you say, that cracks you up by a glass of fragile jokes cutting me by your response, We'd both be jealous of the other making you smile "It's just another guy" so you say, when he licks his lips Lubricating his lies, like I did to convince you I wasn't jealous,- you still noticed something was amiss "It's just another guy" so you say, as you pretend to be friends It all starts like that, a friendly compliment here and there, the same way I said it when we started as friends "It's just another guy" so you say, till I also become just another guy I'm told I'm overdramatic, in over my head, but when you fall in love with someone else Would you ask him or me why "It's just another guy" so you say, and I'm just a dog acting ****** Still a dog marks his territory, and if I marked you with my heart; I did so with aim, to not miss on making you my Miss "It's just another guy" so you say, but you can still treat a day like **** Wasting your time talking about him, as I fake a ****** smile that makes me feel like **** The truth is, I was once just another guy that stole you first, from just another guy And karma is a mistress that works in a cycle, and I'm forced to comply to her this second time
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Oct 3, 2023
Oct 3, 2023 at 3:12 PM UTC
Just another guy
I had been keeping a safe emotional distance from her Since she found out about the cutting, the eating disorders and all the rest of the lies I never really could talk to my mother Especially since she doesn't deal With shattered souls Very gently She yells when she doesn't know how to cope And it just makes it worse Because feelings are not logical And she is more of a logic person But she was in my room Talking to me about our plans for tomorrow Who was picking who up where and when etc. And I had a song playing in the background I listened too hard to the lyrics Memories flashed back And I burst into tears At first she did the whole typical of her: Grow up, get over it, stop being overdramatic and attention seeking thing but when she saw my eyes filled with tears her baby daughter's eyes in so much pain she started crying too and I recoiled at her embrace I didn't want her comfort She was never there for me When I really needed her to be And I am fairly unforgiving About things like that But I had been so alone For so long That year, I had spent full days In black clothes And total silence Not speaking to anyone ever at all because everyone hated me No one wanted to be friends With the girl who keeps getting called To the councillor's office And as this song brought me to tears I couldn't take being alone anymore So I let my mother hold me She whisper through choked sobs: are you really still that sad about everything that happened? And I answered in a hollow voice: Mom. You have no idea...how broken I have been. And she never did. Loneliness Is a scarring type of agony
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
How Broken I Have Been
I had been keeping a safe emotional distance from her Since she found out about the cutting, the eating disorders and all the rest of the lies I never really could talk to my mother Especially since she doesn't deal With shattered souls Very gently She yells when she doesn't know how to cope And it just makes it worse Because feelings are not logical And she is more of a logic person But she was in my room Talking to me about our plans for tomorrow Who was picking who up where and when etc. And I had a song playing in the background I listened too hard to the lyrics Memories flashed back And I burst into tears At first she did the whole typical of her: Grow up, get over it, stop being overdramatic and attention seeking thing but when she saw my eyes filled with tears her baby daughter's eyes in so much pain she started crying too and I recoiled at her embrace I didn't want her comfort She was never there for me When I really needed her to be And I am fairly unforgiving About things like that But I had been so alone For so long That year, I had spent full days In black clothes And total silence Not speaking to anyone ever at all because everyone hated me No one wanted to be friends With the girl who keeps getting called To the councillor's office And as this song brought me to tears I couldn't take being alone anymore So I let my mother hold me She whisper through choked sobs: are you really still that sad about everything that happened? And I answered in a hollow voice: Mom. You have no idea...how broken I have been. And she never did. Loneliness Is a scarring type of agony
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it doesn't matter it's fine he is worth nothing to me I can let him go I wish I had just shut up no I don't miss him God I miss him no I miss the idea of him he was nothing special I am never going to learn why am I so overdramatic and pathetic I get stupid after midnight I hate life no I don't I just hate myself yeah that's fair enough I don't know what's wrong with me why did I text him during one of my broken moments there is something wrong with me I hate everything but mostly myself and him but I don't hate him no I really DO hate him I loathe him why did I waste my time I am a pathetic loser why I am I doing this to myself I can't escape my own head I hate everything why do I keep saying that I am getting sick of hating everything why does he have to exist I should ****** him with a chainsaw oh yes I would enjoy that oh wait that's illegal okay why am I spending so much time on it I should really be doing work right now I am really stupid okay I have accomplished nothing today I am just an option for him I am just another pathetic little ego boost I hope he dies alone I hope he is okay he is not okay I am not okay I am not okay I am not okay omfg what if wrong with me why do I have to be this dumb he is damaged from the divorce of his parents so he is being a ******* and acting out, maybe that's it maybe he will change NO. don't think like that he will not change ever don't expect him to why do you like him anyway I don't like him I don't like him well I kind of do I don't know what I'm thinking I can't breathe he would never give me a second look and I don't want him to except I want him to so I can break him but he won't I am worthless.
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC
My thoughts right now.
it doesn't matter it's fine he is worth nothing to me I can let him go I wish I had just shut up no I don't miss him God I miss him no I miss the idea of him he was nothing special I am never going to learn why am I so overdramatic and pathetic I get stupid after midnight I hate life no I don't I just hate myself yeah that's fair enough I don't know what's wrong with me why did I text him during one of my broken moments there is something wrong with me I hate everything but mostly myself and him but I don't hate him no I really DO hate him I loathe him why did I waste my time I am a pathetic loser why I am I doing this to myself I can't escape my own head I hate everything why do I keep saying that I am getting sick of hating everything why does he have to exist I should ****** him with a chainsaw oh yes I would enjoy that oh wait that's illegal okay why am I spending so much time on it I should really be doing work right now I am really stupid okay I have accomplished nothing today I am just an option for him I am just another pathetic little ego boost I hope he dies alone I hope he is okay he is not okay I am not okay I am not okay I am not okay omfg what if wrong with me why do I have to be this dumb he is damaged from the divorce of his parents so he is being a ******* and acting out, maybe that's it maybe he will change NO. don't think like that he will not change ever don't expect him to why do you like him anyway I don't like him I don't like him well I kind of do I don't know what I'm thinking I can't breathe he would never give me a second look and I don't want him to except I want him to so I can break him but he won't I am worthless.
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1
Running through the checklist of things to do I can’t help but feel overwhelmed. A breathe of fresh air is what I crave; I’m lost for wards for what I have discovered; I tried so hard to be the role model. Venting is not enough. Engaging in this forbidden dance was something I couldn’t see you doing till you were older. No were to go, no were to hide; Even though I hold you so dear to my heart this action has ripped the death grip I had. Loneliness became a friend; Lingering is nothing but the old memories of what was the good you and now I just see hypocrisy. It drew me in ever so close. Stupid: how could you be so stupid? All these lessons I tried teaching you for nothing! My heart was so big; It’s like I’ve wasted part of my life on you and I can never get it back, I struggle with this. Chanting in the name of love. How can I accept you when the feelings I have are twisted just like your words to me? Aroused by the thought of being loved; Ever mess up you were there to make me regret it, yet your actions are exactly the opposite of your words. Love never felt so cold. Staring into your eyes make me hate you; I resent the connection we have, but I can’t let go. Imagining there’s light at the end; Severing the ties is not enough to make me forget you; our bond is too strong to do that. This pain is too much. Every memory of you is forever engraved on my heart, but I don’t want them just a new heart. Rest in peace; Awaiting for a new start seems impossible after everything you have put us through. Never again will I fall. Drowning us with your overdramatic way has forced us to grow up faster then before. But I hold on to hope; Running away from everything is your downfall; you call me immature but really you’re looking in a mirror. Over the times of deceit. The mirror you fail to look at because you’re too afraid to see yourself for yourself. Holding on to whats left; Examine what your actions have brought onto us but too afraid to accept the consequences. Running of empty words. Now look at this situation we’re in and tell me that you are being mature about it when all you do is run. Outsmarting the twisted thoughts; Must you go on living this way I do not want any part of me to be involved with you. Outwitting the tricky games; Really look deep in your heart and feel the pain I feel and then walk a mile in my shoes and you’ll see. Ending the lies, hurt, and struggle with just one breathe...
0
Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
Just One Breathe
Running through the checklist of things to do I can’t help but feel overwhelmed. A breathe of fresh air is what I crave; I’m lost for wards for what I have discovered; I tried so hard to be the role model. Venting is not enough. Engaging in this forbidden dance was something I couldn’t see you doing till you were older. No were to go, no were to hide; Even though I hold you so dear to my heart this action has ripped the death grip I had. Loneliness became a friend; Lingering is nothing but the old memories of what was the good you and now I just see hypocrisy. It drew me in ever so close. Stupid: how could you be so stupid? All these lessons I tried teaching you for nothing! My heart was so big; It’s like I’ve wasted part of my life on you and I can never get it back, I struggle with this. Chanting in the name of love. How can I accept you when the feelings I have are twisted just like your words to me? Aroused by the thought of being loved; Ever mess up you were there to make me regret it, yet your actions are exactly the opposite of your words. Love never felt so cold. Staring into your eyes make me hate you; I resent the connection we have, but I can’t let go. Imagining there’s light at the end; Severing the ties is not enough to make me forget you; our bond is too strong to do that. This pain is too much. Every memory of you is forever engraved on my heart, but I don’t want them just a new heart. Rest in peace; Awaiting for a new start seems impossible after everything you have put us through. Never again will I fall. Drowning us with your overdramatic way has forced us to grow up faster then before. But I hold on to hope; Running away from everything is your downfall; you call me immature but really you’re looking in a mirror. Over the times of deceit. The mirror you fail to look at because you’re too afraid to see yourself for yourself. Holding on to whats left; Examine what your actions have brought onto us but too afraid to accept the consequences. Running of empty words. Now look at this situation we’re in and tell me that you are being mature about it when all you do is run. Outsmarting the twisted thoughts; Must you go on living this way I do not want any part of me to be involved with you. Outwitting the tricky games; Really look deep in your heart and feel the pain I feel and then walk a mile in my shoes and you’ll see. Ending the lies, hurt, and struggle with just one breathe...
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I'm scared of so many things right now. Like if I'm making the right decision about my future: Am I independent enough to leave my home and seek adventure? What if I'm not living out my life to the fullest? I don't want to regret these years but I can't seem to change myself. Am I just as bad as what I complain about? I'm terrified that I am my biggest pet peeve and that I will never be able to escape myself. I'm scared that my newfound anger isn't just a phase. And how am I supposed to overcome my problems if I instinctively shut them out before I have the chance to try? I'm scared that second chances don't exist and fear that I've ****** up the only one I get. I worry that true happiness will never come to me again but I know I'm probably just being overdramatic. I'm terrified that I'm wrong about her and that I will be too late to do any saving. I know she doesn't want to be saved but I still fear she'll choose death over us. I fear that I'm wrong about everything. I'm scared that nobody cares. I'm terrified of being lonely.
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 2:26 AM UTC
can you live in fear and still be strong?
Okay. Sure. Play victim. Play with drugs, cigarettes and alcohol before you can even legally drive. Play with knives and fire. Play with all those things you swore you never would. Play with the bad kids. Play unloved. Play overdramatic. Play this game you love so well. ...because no matter how good you are at it sooner or later you are going to lose. I can't wait, I hope I'm there when you do. Because you wrecked me. And I am STILL healing. The scars on my wrists are all your fault the reason I sometimes can't eat more than a yogurt and half an orange for lunch is because of YOU the reason I hate myself the reason my mother can't trust me around blades anymore the reason my mother cried for so many nights because you broke her you broke me you SHATTERED my friends and loved ones you triggered her you led to her eating problems you contributed to the slits on her arms the scars are STILL THERE you made us genuinely want to **** ourselves and HER the one who was so strong she never drew blood you even drove her to trying to with a pushpin a f!cking pushpin thanks to you! we used car keys when we got desperate scissor blades safety pins needles construction paper edges nailclippers the ends of wires circle makers the backings of earrings so many more things sitting alone you turned everyone against us everyone all of our friends the whole school our families EVERYONE you wrecked EVERYTHING you killed us. made us want to **** ourselves now I just want to **** YOU so go ahead PLAY.
0
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
PLAY
Okay. Sure. Play victim. Play with drugs, cigarettes and alcohol before you can even legally drive. Play with knives and fire. Play with all those things you swore you never would. Play with the bad kids. Play unloved. Play overdramatic. Play this game you love so well. ...because no matter how good you are at it sooner or later you are going to lose. I can't wait, I hope I'm there when you do. Because you wrecked me. And I am STILL healing. The scars on my wrists are all your fault the reason I sometimes can't eat more than a yogurt and half an orange for lunch is because of YOU the reason I hate myself the reason my mother can't trust me around blades anymore the reason my mother cried for so many nights because you broke her you broke me you SHATTERED my friends and loved ones you triggered her you led to her eating problems you contributed to the slits on her arms the scars are STILL THERE you made us genuinely want to **** ourselves and HER the one who was so strong she never drew blood you even drove her to trying to with a pushpin a f!cking pushpin thanks to you! we used car keys when we got desperate scissor blades safety pins needles construction paper edges nailclippers the ends of wires circle makers the backings of earrings so many more things sitting alone you turned everyone against us everyone all of our friends the whole school our families EVERYONE you wrecked EVERYTHING you killed us. made us want to **** ourselves now I just want to **** YOU so go ahead PLAY.
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