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I'm Fine"Are you okay?"
No. I'm dying. I have to push myself to wake up in the morning, and when I finally do, I want to go back to sleep. Even my best dreams are becoming nightmares. I can't taste food, I can't stand the things I used to love. I'm breaking. I'm fading. I'm dying.
What Happened?I used to think make up
Made people ugly.
Now I think I'm ugly without it.
I used to think people
Always loved me.
Now I think everyone hates me.
I used to think everybody
Was my best friend.
Now I think no one truly is.
I used to think
Boys were icky!
Now I wish I had one.
What happened to being
You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
Society is ScreamingSociety is screaming so loud, I can hear it internally
Inside my mind, bouncing off the boundaries
All the dishonor, poverty, lies and disgust sound eternally
I tell the world, warn them of this coming storm, they tell me it's imaginary
The ones who are here to help, they lie through their teeth and lungs
Lock me in, "fixing" me up, sending my mind reeling
Defiantly I fight, bare arms and legs, as they fill me with drugs
They've sent me so far from home, I'm so numb, I can't even feel my feelings
My mind is overflowing with images I don't own
I remain silent, let them believe it's working
Moving slowly through this twisted life I now know
Don't let them in, your soul is still here, in the shadows, lurking
I somber out of the bright white building, fake hope on medication
The pills they gave me, go into the trash, along with my trust in this world
I look for others, minds alike, prepare this movement for fortification
Inside this prison, my ideas have lifted, gotten up and swirled
Between The LinesSix years old,
tired and cold
a girl stood with rags and bruises.
She turned to stare,
tried not to care
beside her the mommy who always uses.
She happened to see,
a mother of three
tied down by the 'devils' on her sleeve.
The little girl asked,
desire well masked
why must they ruin Christmas Eve?
No answer ever came,
only silence to blame
and mommy walked on without one word.
The little girl followed,
a large gulp now swallowed
left her question hanging and simply unheard.
Creature ComfortDown into the depths of her mind
lives a creature who's not very kind
His fangs are sharp and ready to slice
been there, done that more than thrice
This little monster isn't all that rare
he shows up in school, dreams, nightmares
The teachers always said she was out of tune
already gone but much too soon
In their thoughts they held her soul close by
made sure she was fine but hoped not to pry
Now, she's still alive, hanging by a string
a tired angel flying with only one wing
You'd think her peers would want to stop in
Take a little time to wash her of sin
Maybe tell a tale or grasp her hand
stare for a while at her wristband
As much as I'd love to tell you a lie
they never said anything but “try not to die”
Her parents, oh God, they were the worst
only came once to sit and to curse
A phone call or two, but that was the end
they were scared their little girl wasn't on mend
This made her sad, afraid of it being her fault
that she had to go and bring her life to a halt
Hard TimesI see you’ve been weeping for some time now
You’re all torn out and cold
Even if all you see is darkness
You’re the bit of light that’s shining
And I know you don’t have control
But you can't just let go
Because if one day you do, you might lose yourself
Then I’ll be left alone, with no one to hold.
Hard to AskIs it so hard to ask,
For love, friendship and trust,
Is it so hard to think,
To think what you once meant to me?
Now i'm all alone,
In a boring, normal world,
My dreams are destroyed,
My imagination annoying.
Were can I go,
I read all the books,
Were can I go,
I've been searching for clues.
My soul starts resting,
My heart stops racing,
My eyes are closing,
My cheeks stop rosing.
That is the last sound,
You'll hear me singing,
I'm sorry my love,
My journey just begun.
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchin
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