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Serena M Jan 2014
I stood alone in my cold tomb
I wanted to pick everything up
and bleed myself dry with unrequited love,
fix every broken winged bird I set free too soon,
erase these voids, sew myself back together, somehow
my heart had become this open cage where dark beasts
laid their heads to rest, only for a night at a time
tried as I may, nothing ever stayed
but I awoke with the same haunting feeling
love in the past tense; a lingering suspense
dawn brings black coffee, another cigarette
another impeding sense of doom
Serena M Jan 2014
my inner demons are put to rest
and I'm shoveling away as I plan to bury them
they scurry and claw up my throat with
senseless last words
best left unheard

a razor blade in my hand
that brought blood to my thighs
when there should have been tears in my eyes

locks of hair that
I sawed off along with my weathered pride
vibrant red, along with shades of brown
smelling of stale cigarettes

the blade will speak on my skin no more
my hair will grow as spring creeps upon us
and the flowers bloom

here is where I bury my regrets,
among the butts of countless cigarettes
rjh Jun 2018
you are nothing to me
but a two year memory
of cigarette stains
and a caffeine dependency
that still claims me to this day
Desi May 2018
Flick the lighter, burn the tip 
Spend another night thinking
Why is it so hard to be alone?
Like nothing can fill me and no one sees me
My eyes fill with smoke as you talk to me
You’re with me as I laugh and when I cry
you tell me you love me
I believe you
There’s fire at one end a fool at the other
You're a cigarette and sometimes I forget
You’re just rolled paper burning me on the other side.
Tøast May 2018
What I would give for another cigarette.
An ash stained mouth and a lung full of smoke,
Spiralling up from the death wish I hold so delicately between my finger tips.
Well I quite a while ago, and yes I can breathe, but why would I want to when I'm as self destructive as I am.
So let me drink from a volcano and inhale the fumes, exhale in one breathe and clear my mind for a while.
Shannon May 2018
Fourteen never tasted you
But I still need you like a crutch
Like something to keep me afloat when I feel like
I'm drowning

You see, the pretty, skinny girls
The ones who are allowed to fall apart
Pieces of you they exhale
Leave a solemn marker on this saddened planet.

You see, pretty skinny girls
The ones who suit anorexia so **** well
Wear a pretty shade of starving
And cry themselves to sleep within stark hospital walls

You see, pretty skinny girls
The ones who don't take up any space
Praised for their alternative music and long socks because
Hey.
At least they're alive.

Do you see how different we are.
We are the freedom seekers who never get justice
We are the ones that got left behind
We are the ones who's diagnosis didnt fit
Simply because our numbers didnt
Into the category of deathly

I need you like a crutch
Because nothing I have
and nothing I am
Quite equates to their criteria of needing help.
No matter how quietly i whisper to you under bedsheets
Or scream it out to my father, those three words
That are already hard enough to ******* admit
no
no.
They are still.
Still.
Not enough for you.

I need help.

Fourteen learned to roll cigarettes when she was seven
But made an oath to herself of never ever
but now she needs a salvation

It's like I've been fighting the ocean for long enough
Finally decided c i cant fight alone anymore
Yet the lifeguards only saved the one who was visible in the sea
Oblivious to the fact fourteen was on the brink
Of drowning in her own tears.

Fourteen looks up to the sky and counts the stars
Like marlboro lights she counts the flamed atmosphere
Wondering how life could get worse than this.
And she waits for something to come
something to save her
A helping hand or a speeding car
Lying in the middle of the road often carried that risk.


She's in love with him and its a ******* tragedy
She doesnt know if shes too much for him or not enough
She's being abused and its a ******* tragedy
She doesnt know if the bruises shes acquiring are just in her head
She's losing touch with her friends and its a ******* tragedy
She knows they arent paying attention.

So what more can she do
But dream of feeding herself to the ocean
A current in place of a current affair and
A slow and fulfulling peace.

Fourteen stares at the sky with the
soft ripples of sand beneath her feet
counts the stars like marlboro lights
takes a breath, and gives herself  
One
more
chance
Seventeen looks back to what she wrote when she was fourteen, fourteen,
young and sweet and in pain and fourteen never saw what could happen with two years and some trust in herself and some ******* faith. Fourteen you won some hard battles. Fourteen youre still here. Fourteen you make me proud every ******* day. Fourteen, meet seventeen. Fourteen I'm proud of you. Fourteen I love you. If nobody else can say it, know that i do.  I do. Fourteen you picked yourself up. Fourteen, you are the reason seventeen doesnt need to lean on anyone, not at the end of the day. Fourteen, you're the reason seventeen is still here. Fourteen, im sorry. Fourteen, im still sorry. Fourteen, we're on our way to fix these cracks, the ones a little to big for our small hands. Fourteen, we will achieve our own justice. Fourteen, you no longer dream of feeding yourself to the supreme entity. Fourteen you no longer think of your funeral as a memory. Fourteen, you've lost people but **** some of them you're better off without. Seventeen wants you to know that.
Fourteen you dont need to be a size 6 to be validated.
You must validate yourself to be validated.


Fourteen, we made it.
Fourteen, you did it.
Fourteen, im so thankful that you persisted.
Jessica S May 2018
We drink alcohol
and smoke cigarettes
and kiss stupid boys
that don't care about us
Just to forget about
life
We want to feel the rush
the adrenalin
because in reality
we have that boring job
and that one stupid boy
that doesn't text back.
reality hurts
and we don't want to feel pain
ali brown May 2018
smoking was your favourite habit
and darling , you were mine
but the difference was
you were smoking to die
and i was loving you
to feel alive
Myrrdin May 2018
Cigarettes stuffed
In the worn out pocket
Of a jacket
That doesn't belong to me
A walk in the rain
Early in the morning
With a dollar store lighter
That doesn't belong to me
Soaking my socks
Inhaling smoke
I have a heartache
That shouldn't belong to me
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