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MessEverywhere I go
Every single place
The troubles seem to grow
Every smiling face
Eventually frowns with woe
Why can't I do
I just screw
Up everything despite
The happiness I try to spew
Is it me
Am I the source of this ache
Does the pain flow free
Is this what I make
Should I go away and hide
Never to see others
Or the outside
But would I stop another's
Pain and be the only one that ever cried
What is a life with no grey
When everyone is sad
I'd give it all away
It wouldn't be that bad
I would finally be able to say
I saved a life
Self Harm isn't Funny.It's not.
So why do you continue to laugh?
Is it really that funny to you?
Well, you wouldn't laugh if you'd known what me and these other people have been through.
You use silly labels such as "emo" and "psycho" to anyone who does it.
Is that really appropriate?
Let me explain something to you.
Some people self harm because of bullying.
I've been there myself.
Some people self harm because of family problems.
Some people self harm because of personal problems they may not want to share.
Self harm is caused by many things and believe me, it's one of the least funniest things to have happened in this world.
So let me ask you this:
How would you feel if someone was dragging you down everyday with harmful words?
How would you feel if you were constantly getting harassed online?
How would you feel if you received physical attacks everyday?
How would you feel if untrue rumors were going around about you?
How would you feel if your family turned against you?
How would you feel if you
After All This gentle facade of nightmarish quandaries. Existential wanderings of pervasive quality. In and out of a billion after rememberings. The ruminations of living until dead, of breathing until not. Would we all live for the moment when given the chance? Would we all reach for the possible if providence dictated? Breathing as midnight's crawl grows near. The words all pounding themselves out in my head. Those nightly voices whispering stories to me in my pillows. Fingers of glory and caresses of war dance as sugar plums between the magic of bonfire ghosts.
I live in a thousand shattered memories, reliving a thousand tattered reveries. All the while living after all. When the stories are gone and the sleep takes hold, will I wake up alive and breathing, or dead and gone?
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More