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Armand Apr 2021
I wish, I wish
I never played your game
I wish, I wish
I never knew your name
I wish, I wish
I never abandoned *******
I wish, I wish
I could get rid of this pain,
clear up my brain
And cleanse these veins
I wish, I wish
I wasn't going insane
She promised me she'd help me and always be there, or was it just I that made the promise?
Tetra Hachiko Apr 2021
All the words I want to say
Balled up, I throw away
Because at the end of the day
It doesn't matter anyway
What will it change if I were to say
The things in my chest, boiling away
Coiled up, as if it were to say
I am going to explode any day
Anna Lour' Apr 2021
While the ocean unfolds
calm as still waters
I’m just another lost soul
floating helplessly with no colors

I’ll go where the tide told me to
because there’s no hope left in me
And everything looked so pointless
so why bother to fight for them

I’ve been screaming, yearning, longing for answers,
for a glimmer of hope
But every time I try harder,
the world brings me down
And here I am

But as the night went by,
and the stars fell down
The sun emerged,
and the warmth grew closer
The morning breeze greets me,
welcoming for a new start
Maybe I don’t have all the answers now
but that doesn’t mean I should settle down
And I may be floating
but i’m discovering the whole sea
From the album 'Afloat'
Read the full album on https://annlour.wixsite.com/annalour/album-1-afloat
Peri Mar 2021
You wear long sleeves all throughout summer
Until the questions,
The questions stop.

Outside the window
All that a stranger peering in would see is
A goldfish swimming through a tank of
Forgotten, filthy water

So peaceful, so complacent
Until the silent storm breaks into bubbles
Into screams and shouts of
Help.

The fabric from your sweater rubs
Against your wounds
Causing them to cry out for help
Their screams muffled by the
Tightly woven yarn of your clothing.

A silent storm erupting
Along your wrists
With no one there to help
No one there to hug your wrists
Although they burn

To silence the shouts
To stop the bleeding.
i've recently had problems with self harm so i thought i'd write this to help me sort my thoughts out. it's not perfect but i tried my best hehe.
J Mar 2021
I'm fine in the day.
As fine as I can be, anyhow.
Because at least in the light, I'm being watched by the Sun
At least I can pretend someone else has to feel the same way.
I hope no one else ever feels this way.
At night, it's the worst.
At night, I know without a single doubt that I am alone.
the house is quiet, careful with the creaks even
the walls do not turn in their sleep
the nails do not turn on themselves and scrape for some sort of feeling.
the air only shifts when I want it to.
It's worst at night.
Because I have me,
and I have my blades,
and I have some sort of will.
All very contradictory, might I add.
Most times I feel like cutting and burning
is the only thing that makes me
feel real.
Or better.
Only thing that makes me feel.
Addiction is funny like that!
See, you do this thing where you tell yourself
I can stop at any time I want!
Maybe you could
but honestly why would you
It helped
so stopping? STOPPING?
How could stopping possibly be healing?
My scars are not enough.
I need more, I need every inch
I want them purple and searing.
I want them rising like the bumps on the side of the road
they scream
WARNING WARNING WARNING LOSING CONTROL
I wish that I had the strength to get this out.
I want to tell someone, anyone, what the **** is going on in my mind.
Let me try, please for the love of ******* God, let me try.
I am hurting.
hurting in the ways that never let my fingers type fast enough.
Hurting in the ways that I'm only writing because I don't know what else to do
I've lost so much motivation
I've stopped writing as much
GOD GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO
I'm here.
Popping my knuckles makes me nervous.
don't let go don't let go
Touching myself feels like I'm one step closer to doing it
even the simple elbows on my thighs.
Naked thighs.
I traded in the baggy jeans and hoodie for shorts and a muscle shirt
WHY?
Who knows.
Why do I have to feel like this always.
I'm tired.
I'm tired and I think that I just keep getting worse and I can't
I CAN'T
tell you what this feels like
it feels played out
scripted.
each word something to laugh at.
WHY CAN'T EVEN I TAKE MYSELF SERIOUSLY.
I won't accomplish anything.
I'm going to die a failure.
please make me stop feeling so alone
so helpless.
I thought going back to school helped.
Maybe it did for a bit, but not long enough.
I'm tired of putting in an effort for nothing to be returned.
I think I'm going to relapse tonight and I'm scared.
My arm doesn't show the scars
Tough skin layered in the scar tissue.
Nothing like the WARNING WARNING WARNING
Though there's one burn mark.
Maybe I should burn more.
WHAT THE **** IS THIS.
Nothing deep, no rhythm to it
I'm losing whatever talent I sort of had.
V Mar 2021
They say life is short.
Then why does it also seem like the longest thing ever?
"Depression notes"
Also perhaps a small vent to let out this hopelessness I have had lately.

Hang in there everyone.
🖤
Alexander Feb 2021
A Chair far beyond reach to those that want it, and those that seek it out, Its desire seeks those weak enough to swallow whole.
Its miles below the surface dwelling in a cold depth far from all known life, behind an old wood door, miles further more, from warmth of sunlight.
It's a place so far from help, hope is hopeless, the Only way out is from within it, and your self.

Beyond the Wooden door, you become trapped,  the Chair draws you deeper, as the door is consumed into darkness, and all walls consumed by oblivion, your direction has been taken, as you lay bare and lost.
Gain just your footing, and your stars, only for the last peak of hope to fade away aswell as the above becomes below and below above as you walk into the darkness,
Miles you cross, into the abyss you've been lost,
you in stupefaction, hope now gone, the Chair draws you nearer.

This place will know you inside, know your heart and mind, it will break you, defeat you and after its won it seeks to decimate, changing your very way of being.
It will let you see the world through eyes not your own,
in a body you feel you simply occupy.
As you step through your own life it sheds you into darkness,  it forces you away from others and shelters you for its self to feed moreover on.
It creates a new you, alone, trapped in darkness and anguish.

Once it has taken your mind and your body, this is when  you have found the Chair, or it finds you, it waits, after all your pain and suffering after your fall from oblivion into the abyss of woes, you may sit, you may now find a place of gravity of center, this chair, or the darkness ahead.

If your wise you leave this chair, for it is the throne of death, it is your resting place, to sit is suicide,
The chair will force to vanquish your own life,
It chooses every method known to man,
It let's you decide, and as your final seconds pass with your last breath, you see the light that waited beyond the darkness tat was ahead, as you perish.

But to those that walk forward and pass the Chair,
Your granted life, and your granted happiness,
It will teach you more struggles then others will face but it will end, and walking onward will grant you life, happiness and wellbeing.

For that door is the pathway through the gates of depression, the Chair is the seat if death when you surrender to lifestyle struggles and the light is the hope you will never lose, walk forward an onward survivor of life and death.
Alice Feb 2021
I told you I was drowning

you said you knew how to swim

but what is that good for

if you still won't jump in
Isabella Jan 2021
I've been avoiding you for some time now
Not wanting to confront the twisted emotions tangled in my head
Not wanting my gaze to meet the confliction tugging at my heart
My body is a storm right now
And all I wished for was some peace
But shutting myself behind locked doors, waiting for the thunder to die down, hasn't seemed to help
I still hear the rain pounding on my windows
I still shiver as wind slips through the crack of my door
I still shake as my shelter sways uneasily
I guess I'm afraid to drown
If that makes sense
Waves are cascading from the sky
With a force that would surely knock me to the ground
I would be breathless and helpless
Alone and weak
The storm would drown out my cries
And the storm would eventually drown
me
first poem in a while. not doing great and I haven't wanted to think about it by writing poetry but I gave in today.
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