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Literature
Suicidal
Blood flows from our wrists,
Making our hands turn into fists.
We only feel the pain and sorrow,
Have we given up hope for a better tomorrow?
The rope is hanging from the ceiling,
Helping us end that miserable feeling.
The pills are scattered across the floor,
Maybe we need to swallow just one more?
Others might refuse to see the cruelty of life,
While others try to end it by the knife.
Trying to get out of this cruel dream,
Sometimes all we can do is scream.
There are others like you out there,
You might not yet know where.
But they try to overcome it,
That's something not all will admit.
Every one of us needs a helping hand,
Literature
Extinguished
I have met some girls, a few
in particular, in my
past who have had what you
would consider to be
strange habits.
Like, a blonde who kept me warm
and always smoked but
hardly ate. I guess
her stomach was always
filled to burst with smoke,
so there was no place for
food or much else.
She was always so
funny and
so easy to talk to
that it was hard
not to like her.
It was like staring
into a fire.
When she and I both died
for someone else, it
was okay and I left
without any tears (they had
burned up). But I
didn't have to search long;
I trip and spark like any other
hopeful loner.
This one stood on glowing
coals, push
Literature
Kit Kat Make Up Trash.
your lungs fill with oxygen as you try to exhale
through clenched teeth and palms pressed over your chapped lips.
you're trying to get a hold on this confusing spasm
that makes you feel sick to the bone and high as the stars
but your wings are drenched in vomit and it seems you
can't have one without the other.
hold on to your bones for dear life and count your ribs every day
just in case one of them decided to slip out of reach.
press your heart through the glass and feel the shards sinking
into the soft flesh as it cracks beneath pressure.
scream at your broken reflection and spit out insecurities
that were inflicted upon your bloodied w
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A poem that I kind of wanted to write for my LA poetry clas, but in a catholic school I probably would have gotten in crap for this. My mom was scared when she read this- thought I was suicidal. Perfect. I'm not, just to clear it up. I write dark crap, don't think about it.
Mature
© 2012 - 2024 Breatheforlife
Comments3
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WOW! this is soo amazing and very dark. lol. I absolutely luv this! It' soo deep and all around great!