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Emily Rene Oct 2013
I thought my parents
were like a fairytale
Turns out not everything
is like disney & pretend
Reality is a thin line
compared to the
imagination of pixar
films & Cinderella
Nothing is real
Nothing is animated
Nothing is all smiles
Everything is a lie
& we're all puppets
on a thin string
We're all players
in a game known as
reality
Emily Rene Oct 2013
Depression
is
not
just
sadness.
Its
an
emotion
of
lonely
&
inner
madness.
Emily Rene Oct 2013
The flyest chick that I will ever know,
she be cooler than winter, cooler than snow.
Her name is Hannah, but thats doesn't matter,
she's even better than the ******* Mad Hatter.

'Imperfection is Beauty,' is her favorite motto.
What the hell in the world rhymes with motto...
I'm definitely not perfect when it comes to poetry,
But I'm sure my Hannah-Kins still loves me.

I may have met her recently in this school year,
but she's an amazing & rad girl, I'd share my beer.
I just wanted my best friend Hannah to know,
I love her & I'll never let her go...
(Not in a creepy stalker kinda way... eh. Maybe)
Emily Rene Oct 2013
The first time I actually met you,
your name was all I knew.
But as we got to know each other,
daydreaming was all I could ever do.

You were taken by another girl,
& as was I with another man.
But not so deep down within me,
I'd rather have been holding your hand.

Thinking about us taking long walks,
or holding hands as we could talk.
All these thoughts were such a bliss,
when all I wanted was a simple kiss.

Thinking about you holding me tight,
wondering & hoping you just might.
Those bright blue eyes staring down at me,
finally thinking that it was meant to be.
Emily Rene Sep 2013
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
This is one of my favorite poems , & it has helped me through a lot of things in my life.
I thought that maybe , just maybe , it could help one of you too...
Emily Rene Jul 2013
You don't look out the window,
don't see time going by.
Never know how many hours pass,
while you just lay alone & cry.

Breathing heavily, you whisper,
through a river of cold tears,
"I'm a ******* failure,"
silently, no one hears.

Your heart beats an unsteady rhythm,
pounding in your chest.
With your head in your hands,
there's no time to second guess.

You look at yourself in the mirror,
& blink away the tears that fill your eyes.
You bite your lip & look away,
at the same time, a part of you dies.

You notice a strange emptiness,
one that you've never felt before.
You clench your fist as you realize,
you feel your life is just a chore.

You click your knuckles,
& wipe your eyes.
You're tired of living,
you're tired of lies.

& with a shattered mirror,
& a bleeding fist,
you hold that blade
against your wrist.

As you push it into your flesh,
you ask yourself why.
"Why am I hurting myself?
Why should I die?"


But there's no time for questions,
you find yourself screaming.
The guilt is in your blood,
you wished you were dreaming.

The sound of your blood,
as it drips to the floor.
You're slowly going insane,
sickened by the gore.

But still, you cut deeper,
showing no emotion.
For your killer habit,
you have so much devotion.

You stop yourself for a second,
knowing that you've done enough.
You're bleed out of the anger,
& the life you find so tough.

You reach for your thread,
& stitch up your wrist.
& see that the windows
are shrouded with mist.

You've finally had enough,
you pick up your blade.
You step outside & leave behind
that tortured past you've made.

You run down to the river,
& stare into the freezing stream.
Into it, you throw the blade,
hoping this isn't a dream.

You drop to your knees,
& with your head to the floor,
this is the end of it all,
you've walked out the door.

You stare into the water,
& see a figure approach behind.
You hand quickly covers your wrist,
as thoughts race through your mind.

You turn around to gaze into the eyes of beauty.
The figure, he hold you in his blood stained arm.
You feel so comfortable with the stranger,
you feel so taken by his charm.

He too throws his blade into the river.
"Have you had enough of it too?"
You nod & close your eyes,
wondering if this is really true.

He holds your hand,
& kisses your cheek.
You breathe in deeply,
his touch makes you weak.

You shake your head,
& you're back in your room.
Your wrists have stopped bleeding,
& you hope to dream again soon.

With tears in your eyes,
you wished that you were able,
to go back into those dreams,
to again, *see your angel...
Emily Rene Jul 2013
They say that we choose the lifestyle we enjoy.
They say that I am sick, or that it's just a phase,
but my love for him & her is eternal,
something I shall forever crave.
They tell me who it's wrong to love.
They say it isn't right,
that I come home from her place each day,
& then kiss him throughout the night.
They say that it is God's decree.
They say that our love is wrong,
But love is something you cannot change,
so please just let us be.
Besides, you can't change me.
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