Sour Patched Kid Nov 2014

I was pushed into a cold pool
with all of my warmest clothes on.
I chose cold and heavy over nakedness.
How long will I shiver and stumble?

Maura Jan 2015

I crave that deep sleep
or that deep awake
but the the kind of awake
where your mind is asleep

I crave a sense of peace
or a sense of inspiration
but the kind of peace
where were your mind
wanders through your imagination

I crave a great embrace
or just a soft hug
but the kind of embrace
that works like a drug

I crave a spiritual wake
or just a nudge from God
but the kind of wake
that'll heal my heartache

I crave oh how I crave
for God's grace to save

Kali Jul 2014

I realized what you meant
When you thought it's just laziness
When you expressed your concern
Over my health
Over my being over
The lack
Of me
Over the lack of art
The lack of things I create with my
Mind and my hands
And my need
To express
My insides
The raw things
And thoughts
And feelings
I understand
Your concern and desperate way
Of speaking
Your exasperated wondering
If something in me is broken.
I'm happy
But where is my art
My paintings
And I think
Maybe because I am happy
I have lost the ability
To create
The things I made before
Were art born of pain
Born of raw unfiltered sorrow
And when I'm happy
Art doesn't flow as easily
And I've just accepted it
And I've just accepted being
In a rut.
And I understand your
Your sorrow
Your wondering and fear
That I'm just going to be
Lazy and Undriven.
Your fear that
I've stopped
That I've stopped going
That I'm in love
And that I love you
But what am I doing
Sleeping and eating and nothing
So much
I am going to change that.
I am going to change me.
Because I love you.
And love is not enough.
You need to see that spark in me.
You need to see that go.
The big dreams.
That I've tucked away.
For comfort in sleep.
I need those nights where I toss
And turn
Until I get up and create
Drawing things
Boring things
Amazing things
Playing music from my heart
Singing from my soul
And making things around me beautiful

Xyns Apr 2014

I've been in a rut.

I don't like this.

I've lost self respect.

I can't recover.

I've broken my own heart.

Will it ever end?

Nathan Vienneau Sep 2014

The sun wakes up,
The birds speak up,
I can't get up,
I can't get up,
It's the little things that make you,
It the little things that break you.

Matthew P Beron Apr 2013

I can never find anything to do anymore
I am ALWAYS bored
I drink another soda as fast as I can
I smoke another cigarette as fast as I can
Boring and bad for my health

I used to drink and do drugs
It caused a lot of problems but I had fun
At least then I had something to do
At least then I could make myself stupid
Do stupid things with an excuse
At least then I could be interested in menial things

The most interesting thing I did today was take a shower
I was actually kind of happy standing there under the water
But only an idiot would stand in the shower all day
I could take up masturbation
That might be fun
I could do that in the shower

I rarely smile anymore without faking it
I smile when I see a small child smile
But I don't have children around me that often
and when I do, they are not always smiling
Often they are screaming
Screaming children are not fun

Some people seem like they are happy all the time
How do they do it?
Is it because they are stupid?
I like to think so
I like to think that I am the norm
Nobody should be happy too often

I just want to be happy a little bit
Find a few things to do that don't bore me to death
I wanna be interested in life
I want to have a reason to go to bed early
I want to have a reason to wake up
I want to have a reason

Today I will just have to settle for being bored
For being uninterested
For being unhappy
But it would be nice not to have to dumb down to cheer up
I am sick of dumbing down
I am kind of sick of life

Maybe tomorrow I will remember a good reason to live
Maybe tomorrow I will find something new
Maybe tomorrow somebody will suprise me
Maybe not
But I do still have hope
That just maybe things will change

Joshua Haines Jun 2015

I swear it seems like I can never escape this rut I fall into, always digging a little deeper, slowly losing sight of the light, no ladder to pull myself out, so I sit in this rut, cheeing my nails until they've bled, racing my thoughts until I am dead. I am so sick of feeling high and then low, high then low. I think if death a bit too much, as if today will be my last day, one swift move of the wheel and BAM! I am free, but really I wouldnt be free. I'd be stuck once again in a rut, called my grave.

Depression is a dirty ditch, filled with rot and chaos. To escape it woild be freedom, but we are no longer free. So sick of feeling alone.

If you took a razor and with it tore this carpet up.
I'm certain you'd be sure to find a brief but well-worn rut.
For now it's rather shallow, a furrow most discreet.
Time flows only forward though, as do my weary feet.
The days slip through my fingers, like so many grains of sand.
The hourglass is broken, life just wasn't what I planned.
I waste my nights just pacing, my steps fall heavy on the floor.
This rut will be the solemn tale, of the weight my shoulders bore.

Doug Collins Aug 2012

Everything is spewing
Out of you like frothy
Bearing nothing
And sparing taste

Fermenting and brewing
Through all of these
Yearning insignificance
And lacking grace

Nyx Ashling Jul 2013

Sometimes it feels like you were never here
Sometimes it feels like just yesterday that I told you it was over
That today I could just march over to yours and inform you of your abuse like a well practised debater

I know that you've moved on
While I'm stuck in this rut
The wheels spinning and spitting the same dirt from the same spot in this goddamn rut
The engines riddling the air with the same plaintive and helpless whine 
I don't know how to move on
I just keep hating you

I wrote this back in June when I was still struggling very hard to deal with my anger over my ex.
PrttyBrd May 2010

Vacuum-sealed in cloudy plastic
Suffocating by design
No claws to tear through
No blades to slice
The coldness of the air seeps through
But no breath can be taken
Peek-a-boo I see you
Creepy clouded faces stare
Known yet quite veiled in circumstance
The harder the struggle
The weaker the fight
Light fades as breath strains
Wishing for pinholes

Kevin Triolo Dec 2012

It starts slowly
with a thread
pulling out
like clumps of hair
from a frazzled scalp
aching through
bones hot
with chemicals chemicals
piercing in
screaming blood
streams trickling down.

© 2012

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