Your a drug and I'm addicted
Your too far away and I'm afflicted
Your on my mind and I'm wishing for you
Your a drug and I'm addicted
Diamonds and ribbons,
Sparkle and gleam,
Past and present,
A blur as seen,
Records of time,
History and Future,
Darkness again and again,
Clear as day,
Living again and again,
Just for pain
RainTears like rain,
Lashes growing heavy,
Breath coming in gasps,
Panic, Fear, Doubt,
Lost and alone,
Tears like rain,
Fear InsideAt night I dream,
Nightmares not able to wake from,
At night I dream,
Of loss and pain,
At night I dream,
That one day soon I will not wake
Inside The Thoughts Of A Shutterbox GirlNot sure if I'm living to die or dying to live,
Illness is around nearly every corner,
Always in pain but will never tell,
Uncertain about what tomorrow will tell,
Running from nightmares long since lived,
Scared to lose what is left,
Wanting to forever be loved by only one,
Death is one of my last fears
Something sacred sealed with a ring,
Petal covered floors,
Vows said to each other with witnesses to observe,
Her hero pinned up in black and white,
Her husband for all the days left in their lives
FalseSettle into the coldness that is life,
With no love, no hate, no spite,
A world within a dreamscape,
One dreamed up inside your head,
Victimised and left behind,
All your horrors revived inside,
Your last wants to never feel,
Not life if left dreaming,
Life only if left living
WakingI was sitting,
Waiting for you,
Ceilings high covered in vines,
Dress torn and covered in ash,
The war outside raging,
Bombs shaking the foundations,
Gunshots ringing through the air,
Dried blood signs of once dead,
Groans and moans of the injured shatter my silence,
Marching past ignoring me,
I was sitting,
Waiting for you,
Torn dress of lace bunched up to my knees,
Boots scuffed and ripped,
You walk to me,
Lift me in your arms,
My ThorGentle touch of your hand on my arm,
Simple brush of your fingers on my neck,
Your lips on mine forever lingering,
You pulling me from the dark,
Making light take shape and form,
Taking me out of my horror,
Shielding me from all harm,
Protecting what you have claimed as yours,
I am forever yours,
You, forever mine
LessonsIn forty-seven minutes I will be twenty-one years old and my throat is tight with this notion
that every passing moment is a boat taking me further from the boy on the side of the road.
I am terrified of the swelling tide of time, the ripples I will create,
the creases that will be etched into my face
without the laughter lines I know he would have left and
one day someone will ask me how many siblings I have and I will hesitate
because he will be so distant and I can feel it coming.
I never intended to swim without him, but
I am drowning under the weight of pocket-stone-people,
the ones I love who he has never met and won't ever meet
and its forty-four minutes until I turn twenty-one when I realize the relentlessness of this;
how I will age away from him and I am disgusted with myself, with his ashes on the bookshelf,
with this world that keeps making mistakes that can't be fixed.
Twenty one years old and I am a semi-colon, a shuddering pause on the floor,
remembering the time I broke
Dear Homophobic ParentsDear homophobic parents,
How the fuck do you think it makes me feel
When you walk out of the room crying
Because you can’t stand the thought of something I can’t control.
I’ll tell you that it makes my insides burn.
The living room feels like a closet.
Suffocating, and yet I can breathe fine.
I am choking on the air,
Polluted by your homophobic slurs.
Making uneducated guesses about things you know nothing about.
Someone ought to teach you to look shit up
Before you go about, shouting your false claims to the world.
My very existence is an error.
Some messed up chemical defect that went wrong,
I don’t belong
I am the Titanic,
To you I am supposed to be perfect
I am supposed to be straight, and happy, and fine.
But I am so very far from fine,
When my lungs are filling up with water,
Your words are an ice berg,
And I am sinking fast.
beautiful.i hate my stretchmarks
the vertical the horizontal the ones running miles down my arms
stripes on a circus tent
my body is a freak show
75 cents a ticket
they are the bars on a cage
trapping me inside this prison cell of flesh
(not letting me run away
from all i once was)
reminding me that i am
still that little girl who
was told that she had too
much weight in her stomach
and in her thighs
to be called beautiful
my stretchmarks are the debris from when i tried to collapse upon myself
tried taking up less space
because beautiful is small beautiful is skinny
diets upon diets
because i've been told that
i am only worth the sharpness of my collarbone
girls that photosynthesizeI.
i asked my mother to buy me sweetener,
and she said "no," and she said "no,
sugar is better for you it's more natural"
so i shrug and i clamp my teeth over
my tongue and sew my mouth closed
and i steal sweet n' low
from the pizza place
my friends watch me pick at my lettuce,
a rabbit-food-lunch that makes me sick
to my stomach, and when i run to the
bathroom during science class they
follow me and ask what i ate for breakfast.
i say "waffles" because they can't know
i won't let them stop me
my therapist asks me if i think i'm sick
and i'm not, i'm strong, but i can't be
not here not here, and the $$$$$$$$
are ticking away as i consider my answer
so i say "yes" and she asks me what
i will become and i say "better"
because that's all they want to hear
my dietitian sets up a rough meal plan
and she says i won't gain weight on it
somehow i trust this woman with art
on the walls of her office and i pick
through the day in corn-kernel bites,
why i never wrote you a poem.last summer i tried
to use the words that you fell asleep to
to write you a love song but
every time i tried
my fingers froze up.
i failed the test of describing you
in a paragraph
in a sentence
in a word
there is nothing in my head adequate enough
to describe how you look
on the train station platform
when you smile at me.
i can tell you that
my heart climbs into my throat and
my body prickles with heat and
everything disappears, for just a moment, but
the thing i cannot describe
your mouth caresses my name
like it’s the most beautiful sound
it’ll ever know,
like it understands me perfectly,
you are not made of verses.
you have no meter.
you are not written in stanzas
that i understand
and i find myself captivated
at how beautifully complex
your language is.
you say i’m the mesmerizing one, but, baby,
you've stumped me.
you have left a girl,
a person who wants to build their life
Was Beauty, Now BeastComing back again, the same situation,
Everything has changed due to my perpetration.
Beauty used to be in every word that I speak,
But I spat so much poison, that I can barely squeak!
I used to write a fantasy and now I'm simply dreamless,
I'm struggling with this sickness, it leaves me solely listless,
Or maybe I'm just soulless, my eyes are milky blind,
Where once I saw the beauty; I only see the grind
It should be a crime, a poet falling low,
The world has lost an artist; it gained a rapper though.
But all I have is acid, recriminating bile,
My style is simply vile; I've lost the will to smile.
But maybe if I try, I might get something back.
I guess I need to stop the hate to put me back on track.
Why I DanceI dance as if I am sick,
And the movement is medication.
As if getting up in the morning just to practice is the only motivation
To stay awake.
Because well- worn soft shoes
Feel like home.
The world is cold, and lonely.
But when I dance, there is a fire inside my heart, warm and lively.
I feel like a bird,
Like I am able to fly as high as I want.
Gravity, I taunt
As I laugh in its face.
Because the Earth was never a place
Because leaping across dance floors,
Allows me to soar
Higher than I could in my dreams.
Hard shoe dances make me feel powerful.
Like a raging storm at sea.
My stamps, and clicks are crashing waves.
But I am also the sea breeze.
Strong and graceful.
When I dance I feel like I am trading
Secrets with the universe.
My head is clear,
And my will power is strong.
I am a force to be feared.
On bad days,
The rhythms of hard shoes sound like a heart- beat.
A life line.
And I’ll dance until my feet bleed
Just to feel something.
Because dancing is the only thing
HetaliaxDepressed!Reader:Self-Inflicted AchromaticHetalia x Scary! Depressed! Reader: Self-Inflicted Achromatic
I want to be a person just like you, don't you see?
I want to be a person who is still being "me"
A tired sigh escaped your lips. You were just so damn tired. The other countries said that you, (f/n) or (c/n), was scarier than Russia himself. But of course, you have lived 2500 years with wars and bloodshed always trailing after you. You just really want to be happy. But all those wars and blood imprinted on your mind, you really just released off a dark (a/c) aura and a stoic atmosphere.
It really would be nice but I'm paying a price
'Cause I'd really, not be me and that would not suffice
You asked yourself, "I know my face doesn't show my pain. But isn't it obvious in my eyes? I'm lonely and hurt" You rubbed your numb (s/c) wrist, yesterday's cuts still had a colorless ache to it. You picked your silver knife, twirling it around watching the others argue. The said knife is the one you also use to cut yourself.
A dream which