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gleck Mar 2016
Dehydrated skin, like leather
You being here doesn't make it better

Forehead against forehead
I feel my temperature rise

You make me sick to my stomach
Dear -
Darling -
My little stomach bug
JayceeJellies May 2015
Take care of me,
Be there for me.
Never discourage me,
Love me unconditionally.
You're supposed to be my mother.
But you treat me like I'm nothing.
I'm sick of your constant disrespect,
The loss of love in your eyes that makes me want to cry,
It's itching inside of the back of my mind.
And someday I'll say goodbye to you,
You won't want me to,
But you can't make me stay.
You're not my mom.
But until then,
I'll be walking in the rain.
MalakF Jul 2018
Sadness isn’t a sickness but I think I’m coming down.
Doctor, doctor I no longer want to be around.
All that I seem to do is constantly breakdown.
Doctor, doctor I think it’s time for me to go.
Cancel my next appointment, I won’t be here tomorrow.
Doctor, doctor you say that sadness is in fact a sickness,
yet you aren’t advising me on how to fix this.
Johnny Davis Oct 2016
I want to get on my knee
I want to make you mine

I feel more secure when you are tied

Put a ring on your finger?
Baby, I won’t be satisfied

I want you so badly
I’m obsessed, and you are hypnotized

Never a day I don’t wonder how we got drown in this love and crime

Guess that’s what people say
I’m your longing
You fulfill my appetite

I can only see love
Through your throbbing veins on your sternal line

I can only hear love
Through the scream and cry

When you are chocked by the chain
When you are hopeless and frightened

I know I love you right

No one else matters
Nothing else shines
Your existence means more than my life

But baby
I would get on my knee
only if you died
Knit Personality Jun 2017
An alcomoholic named Moses
Drank one day the largest of doses:
   He drank so much liquor
   He never was sicker
Until he developed cirrhosis.

O.O
Kelly Weaver Jan 2017
As your salt stings my chapped lips and my open wounds I come less and less to you

You grit your teeth into dust that carries through your heinous breath that makes my eyes water and my heart ache

And I cannot believe not too long ago I turned to you for care and comfort and compassion but instead I was caught in a tight spot lacking wiggle room

I can feel you burning a hole through my chest as I ***** words and phrases that don't make sense when put together like

"I love when you make me cry"
The way that people think sometimes makes me sick
The way we criticize so hard and judge so quick
Before you judge me look in the mirror
All of the sudden things become much clearer.

You just see face and the hair, lips and the eyes
But I know all your secrets and I know your lies
If you look closer you will see
That deep down you’re no better than me.

I see past the make up for what you really are
Just a regular person covering a scar
Hidden in your mind, a place you don’t go
Memories and things you’d rather people don’t know.

We all have those secrets buried deep inside
Things that we’d do almost anything to hide,
We try to cover with makeup clothes and that certain grace
But when you look in the mirror it’s staring you in the face.

You can put on the act and the makeup too
But I can see right through you,
You’re just another girl wanting to be accepted
Fearing the burn of being rejected
Falling into the trap of mindless trends
Just envied by your friends
Thinking that once you got it then you’re in
But you still feel the emptiness from within.

So foolish so blind people can be
Take off those colored contacts and you’ll see.
Morgan Mercury Jul 2014
Look at yourself,
you're drained empty.
You'll never forget it
have you even tried?
You've gone and thrown yourself into the arms of someone who isn't strong enough to keep you up.
Did he make your head spin faster?
Did he make your heart beat faster?
On nights staying up wondering if he loves you I hope you someday find yourself instead.
Love is so sick when you can't see reality.
Notice he speaks your name with lack of passion.
See how his eyes can never match up with yours.
Do you even know where all this began?
It's making me sick, love
seeing you stumble home
on nights of loveless love, he never gave you.
Sweetheart, what have you got yourself into?
Do not follow his voice it's only making you settle more.
Please just admit that you've broken your own self this time around.
After all, he has put you through
how can you even still call him lover?
2014
Heidi Shavill Oct 2013
Addiction,
you have sent me reeling
headlong over feet
I sneak around and lie for you,
it’s important that I’m discreet
So nothing comes between us,
cause I need you around
You pick me up we dance,
twirl,
spin,
  right before you knock me down
Addiction are you angry?
I feel strongly that you are
I scream at you
“DON’T LEAVE ME”
I wear your tell-tale scars
I mainline this cyanide
through my eager veins
Twisted sick compulsion
needles stabbing
kills my pain.
Devouring any hopeful dreams
that I could one day be
Someone to be cherished,
loved and truly happy
When I was ten he pushed you in,
hoping I wouldn't tell
Now we are inseparable,
depravity is where we dwell
Trust me I don’t want to feel this ****
so I stay high
Until the day comes to pass
when I don’t want to die.

Heidi Shavill
2013
Miss 'happy' Apr 24
I'm sick
I'm tried
I'm depressed
I keep listening to sad songs
While wearing a black dress.
People keep dying
But not in real life
They keep dying in my heart
Because they cannot fight.
They try their hardest to get up and go
But that's not so easy
In the cold cold snow.
So now they're sick
So now they're ill
So now everyday
they have to take different pills.
They have to suffer while living
While living in pain
Which hurts them
Especially in the brain
It's not easy to suffer
Mentally
Emotionaly
Or physically.
Because everyone
Has their own problems
You see ?
ArielMarriel Feb 14
Little ills
need little pills
to numb
the night and day.
Little pills
in colors -
blue, white, gray.
Little ills steal smiles
and give chills,
instead.
Little ills
all in my head.
cait-cait Sep 2018
you’re a sick, sick person
my little,
                old
love.

with eyes like ferocious , angry
beetles, you
chew into me and cut out
tiny,
        stinging
                       holes.

if only you knew i wasn’t invincible,
if only you knew
                              you were toxic.

the cement is wet when you bash my head
open,
and
the cement is still wet when it
rains.
my mom said "who cares what they think. theyll never understand it, and you dont have to say this part out loud, but things are different now."
Evan Stephens Oct 2018
No phone call tonight.
The sick moon
coughs a cloud -
like a gray stain
on its face -
& I watch
as the new cloud
falls through the night
like a guillotine.

Sick moon,
thin and waxing,
my chest is
a curving hurt too.
Twisted and torqued
by the old carving forks
from the Thanksgivings
where red wine
sat screaming, and
polished plates
were also moons,
hard and silent
and empty.

No phone call now,
the breakup is done.
I shed my skin and salt it.

No phone call now,
only vagrant silence.
The sick moon breathes
a scrape of cloud
down the quiet
spine of night.
Kathryn Maurine Mar 2017
How horrible it was
to wake up to your cries for help.
I came to find you had fallen,
your oxygen disconnected,
the clear tubes lying in a tangle
on your bedroom floor.

At first, you had been conscious,
your beautiful brown eyes looked up at me pleadingly,
and then you were gone.

I was alone and terrified,
having dealt with this before
I couldn’t say it was anything new,
but this time was different than the script of
past events.

Wishing I could escape like a bird in flight,
I knew I had no power to save you,
The harsh truth of my reality
suffocated me. My walls closing in
as I realized what was happening
in this moment.

Prior to this,
you had always made it to the hospital alright,
arguing with paramedics,
but this time,
you were motionless and cold.

I’ll never forget the blue stillness of your lips,
or the way the light left your eyes
as you departed the material world
and finally found peace in eternal rest.
6.13.13
requiescat in pace
Wk kortas Nov 2017
Three days, is what the HR rep said, somewhat sheepishly,
As if she was fully aware that boxing up one’s grief
In a span of a few dozen hours
Is a matter of wishful thinking
And certainly she sympathizes
(Indeed, as she speaks,
She spreads her hands in such a way
As you half expect doves to come forth in full flight)
Empathy being their stock in trade,
But the law and the handbook say three days,
And then you need to have your head
******* back on and looking forward.

Eventually, the mail brings fewer envelopes
Marked with embossed flowers
And subdued and tasteful stamps,
The usual flow of solicitous inquiries,
Pre-stamped and pre-sorted,
Inquiring as to your credit needs,
The condition of your windows and siding,
Resumes apace, and more than once,
In fits of inappropriate black humor and frustration,
You scribble, in bold thick strokes of a marker,
The addressee no longer resides at this location*.

You return to nine-to-five,
Though your ghosts keep their own hours,
Stopping by to visit on their own schedule alone,
Prompted by the tiniest of things:
The dog scampering to its feet in a hurry,
As if someone was at the door,
The discovery of a long-unused pitching wedge
Standing expectantly in the back of the closet,
A song from long ago which was beloved
When you lived in the pairing mandated by Noah
Before you entered the shadow world of ones and nones.
Sometimes you give into the giddy madness,
And rise to waltz around the room,
Careening about unsteadily, clumsily
As you have yet to completely master
The difference in weight shift and distribution
That is required of a solo act.
The timing of these visitations
Often disrupts your schedule and sleep patterns,
And you think that perhaps tomorrow you’ll call in.
I used to think life would be perfect, never a frown on my face
I’d have a perfect figure and always travel with grace,
I could pick my man from a catalogue that’s grown fit for a queen
I never thought that the people I loved could ever be so mean.

Life kind of just hit me not waiting ‘til I was ready
Knocked me from my stance in which I was so steady
It changed me as a person, a person that’s not me
It has changed me into everything I don’t want to be.
Sometimes I just can’t grasp it with the help of all my friends
It’s like trying to wrap your arms around a tree that never ends.

When I look in the mirror I despise what I see
The person starring back doesn’t resemble me,
She’s quite a different person with her heart so out of place
She becomes invisible when the tears run down her face.
She built a wall of shame around her soul and let’s no one in
She can fool you with her smile even though she cries within.
She keeps her feeling locked up in her heart
So when she’s all alone is when she falls apart.

I act as if I have it together and everything is in place
But when you’re not looking the tears begin to race
While people surround me I pretend not to care
My heart bleeds in pain when they are not there.

When my stomach gurgles with rage, you think its indigestion
But what is broken is more the appropriate question.
What is broken cannot be fixed so don’t worry my friend
I’ll take this curse from the beginning to the very end.
Help me if you can listen, help me if you will
But I can’t cure this curse because there is no pill.
I was just a young child when I was first diagnosed with leukemia. A young girl who’s fate would have brought her to the grave. But look at me now. I am standing here in front of you and although I may be far different from all of you on the outside, I am still a person on the inside. My physical scars in time will heal, but my emotional scars will remain forever.

Read more at http://www.******-in-oncology.com
Carter Ginter Dec 2014
My heart clicks repeatedly
a bike chain stuck between gears
I push hard against the pedals
they resist, then release
jerking my body down onto the frame.

The purple spots sting as my
fingertips softly graze the surrounding
puffs of white
They look a lot like how I imagine
the bruises you left would, although
those don't sting
they burn into my soul,
branding your name across
every inch
of every part of me:
my ears yearn to hear your
musical voice, my eyes to see your face
when your sapphire, diamond eyes
glowed brightly as you smiled at
something stupid that I said,
back when I could feel your love
coursing through my muscles, an
electric current sparking
something to life within me, I'm left
without a word to describe it.

Now, however, that spark has ignited into
unmanageable flames, eating all
that they touch, devouring my soul in
a storm of icy heat, filling
my lungs with ash and freezing everything
into an emotionless coma that
only your touch could break
Lizzy Dec 2015
Pill number nine.
My head is pounding
And the room is spinning so fast,
I'm not sure which way is up.
My stomach is churning,
I can barely keep it's contents from
Making an appearance.
Nine, you better be worth this.

Pill number ten.
I can't take you.
I know the doctor said tonight,
But nine has me so sick
The thought of swallowing another pill
Just makes me gag.
You'll get your chance tomorrow.
Shaine Fraz Jul 2017
He's known to flip a bat on occasion
it's blatant
-- radiating cool kid,
a mutant?

holy cardinal like:
who bare rib?
fresh cut new did,
said -- who is this?

slow tread, wrangled thee
there's a 4x4 in his 20/20,
he asked -- “double play?”
the kid ran away

kept pace enough for super stardom
baring set backs
he's set,
lack the vision but he's starting running back,

ran back to the house of worship,
***** housed adolescence,
children they're just victims
with an unnatural talents,

ravenous,
an unnatural predator,
apex,
believed in --

shot blocks and safe ***, fingers latex,
washed him from his feet to my index,
He's speechless,
forgiven,

it's blatant,
coverage hidden,
and what's written is
-- this too shall pass,

as he quoted scripture,
his hand on the right shoulder,
Nearer,
he gets nearer,

meter,
100 meter,
still not older or sober,
And too young to know what ******* was

but,
one 'hell' of an athlete,
sadly
his pastor praised his ministries,
monstrosities.
© 2017 by S Fraz All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of S Fraz
Skyla Apr 20
Am I beautiful or am I sick?
   Am I disgusting, do my eyes play tricks?
I grab my skin with a **** and a pinch
       I feel my body with every nitpick
Thousands of things that I need to fix

Shaking, I open my eyes to face the mirror
There is so much pain, there is so much fear.
There’s nothing but porcelain glass
         with maybe a smudge
And a girl staring back with a body to judge
My vision is blurry, as my eyes well with tears
As flashes of all of the wasted years
Run through my mind, and inside I find,
That maybe I’m the one who can’t see
Maybe I’m the one who is blind
Softly, I touch the glass, and I continue to stare
And a feeling overcomes me, a feeling so rare
That my body doesn’t look the way I thought
The desire of self-love, I viciously sought
I don’t see fat, I don’t see skinny,
I see ache, I see empty, I see hurt, I see fake
I see insatiable hunger,
but I don’t see a number
I see tears, I see bone, I see fear, I see alone.
The mirror doesn’t show a monster
It shows a ravenous daughter
Hungry for love and hungry for affection
Connection and affection achieved through perfection
Maybe some attention
Sobbing mother, angry father, hurting girl
Melancholy, resentment, crashing world

The thinner isn’t the winner,
To heal is to finally feel real
Smiling mother, affectionate father, healing girl.  
Numbers slowly disappear, and blossoms a colourful world
I try to feign disgust but I cannot fool myself
So I begin to trust the light inside of myself

Abandon the habit of starving out of spite
Climb out of the darkness and into the light
There is nothing that I cannot try to write
The hands around your neck in a chokehold
                 tries to squeeze tight
             But the fingers, they loosen,
          and your body begs you to try.  
    Looking at my food, I think that I might
               Lips aquiver, I take a bite.  
           Everything is going to be okay
              One bite at a time, slowly,
                   each and every day.
Carter Ginter May 2013
All it takes is a moment,
And all my happiness can fall into despair.
In just a split second,
I can go from having the best day ever,
To just another day of the week.
Equally though,
I can slip from an anxiety attack,
Straight into euphoric insanity.
But it isn't all causeless.
Yet the effects shouldn't be of such a great intensity.
It's like my emotions are hyped up on steroids,
And I can't keep them stable for long,
Before they return to this up and down,
Roller coaster ride called my life.
Mood swings decide to get bad; Makes my days feel like weeks and makes everything so much harder to understand and endure.
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