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Maria George Mar 2021
What should I do?
I love him so much
What should I do?
He‘s hurting me so bad
What should I do?
He makes me cry
What should I do?
He makes me laugh
What should I do?
I need to leave
What should I do?
Somethings holding me back
What should I do?
I hate him so much
What should I do?
J Mar 2021
I'm fine in the day.
As fine as I can be, anyhow.
Because at least in the light, I'm being watched by the Sun
At least I can pretend someone else has to feel the same way.
I hope no one else ever feels this way.
At night, it's the worst.
At night, I know without a single doubt that I am alone.
the house is quiet, careful with the creaks even
the walls do not turn in their sleep
the nails do not turn on themselves and scrape for some sort of feeling.
the air only shifts when I want it to.
It's worst at night.
Because I have me,
and I have my blades,
and I have some sort of will.
All very contradictory, might I add.
Most times I feel like cutting and burning
is the only thing that makes me
feel real.
Or better.
Only thing that makes me feel.
Addiction is funny like that!
See, you do this thing where you tell yourself
I can stop at any time I want!
Maybe you could
but honestly why would you
It helped
so stopping? STOPPING?
How could stopping possibly be healing?
My scars are not enough.
I need more, I need every inch
I want them purple and searing.
I want them rising like the bumps on the side of the road
they scream
WARNING WARNING WARNING LOSING CONTROL
I wish that I had the strength to get this out.
I want to tell someone, anyone, what the **** is going on in my mind.
Let me try, please for the love of ******* God, let me try.
I am hurting.
hurting in the ways that never let my fingers type fast enough.
Hurting in the ways that I'm only writing because I don't know what else to do
I've lost so much motivation
I've stopped writing as much
GOD GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO
I'm here.
Popping my knuckles makes me nervous.
don't let go don't let go
Touching myself feels like I'm one step closer to doing it
even the simple elbows on my thighs.
Naked thighs.
I traded in the baggy jeans and hoodie for shorts and a muscle shirt
WHY?
Who knows.
Why do I have to feel like this always.
I'm tired.
I'm tired and I think that I just keep getting worse and I can't
I CAN'T
tell you what this feels like
it feels played out
scripted.
each word something to laugh at.
WHY CAN'T EVEN I TAKE MYSELF SERIOUSLY.
I won't accomplish anything.
I'm going to die a failure.
please make me stop feeling so alone
so helpless.
I thought going back to school helped.
Maybe it did for a bit, but not long enough.
I'm tired of putting in an effort for nothing to be returned.
I think I'm going to relapse tonight and I'm scared.
My arm doesn't show the scars
Tough skin layered in the scar tissue.
Nothing like the WARNING WARNING WARNING
Though there's one burn mark.
Maybe I should burn more.
WHAT THE **** IS THIS.
Nothing deep, no rhythm to it
I'm losing whatever talent I sort of had.
Chris Mar 2021
**** or a lie?
You're drowning in manipulation's waters
Fake your smile. Lie.
I know your nightly tears are a fact
One you can't deny
A fake smile is pointless
We all decieve nonetheless  
We're our own fatal mistake
riri Mar 2021
by holding onto you
i'm failing my friends
i'm failing my family
but worst of all, i'm failing myself
i'm failing everyone i love
mothwasher Feb 2021
i like how the clouds come down, pick up my spit, then leave. are they hiring? every time i fail, i draw a chicken with a mini mindflayer crawling under its naked skin. some day they might look convincing enough to be seized by the authorities. a kid got the best of me when i was five trading cards for the real deal. don’t stop smelling the cheese, i said to the maze rat.

i like how the competition keeps me on my toes. are they tiring? every time i fail, i pick a name from a hat and mentally execute all those people. some day they might be convinced to drop dead. a bird got the best of me when the birch called us the real deal. the walls aren’t closing in, i said to the maze rat.

i like how my rorshach lungs are little Kara Walker demons in dresses silhouetted when they turn the x-rays upside down. am i expiring? every time i fail, i inhale, bring it in, until i feel wing-clipped and start coughing tar snot. hive mind got the best of me, the rules of engaging reality come with a coronary deal. the little beats are meaning something, i said to the maze rat.

i like how i have two temples, and each one gets a special drill bit from my spirit. am i unwiring? every time i fail, there’s a countdown that starts and drops to absolutely nothing then leaves. knowing got the best of me, a cinematic coronation for the mediocre is the reel deal. they never stop watching, i said to the maze rat.

i like how the am-i questions get the best of me in a real deal, i said to the maze rat
leeaaun Feb 2021
i was a soul whose life was all about
my own blood, flesh and bones.
i never indulge into your flight,
but you envied my sky
which was offer to me, to fly.
it was you, who compared
yourself to me.
then why you are blaming me
for your choices.
i was fine with my imperfections;
my demons and angels.
just because you couldn't
tackle your negativity,
you had no right to raise your finger
at me, as i never caused your problems.
when all i did was pass by
from your life.
i was a stranger to you.
yet you stabbed me with your
poisonous words.
shot me with your negativity.
cut my wings, by accusing me.
if you couldn't achieved your dreams,
why you killed my dreams?.
was i an easy prey—
or your failure hurt your ego!.
flamingogirl Feb 2021
I wasn't sure at what point
my feelings of
inadequacy and failure
would penetrate the boundaries
of my thoughts and
manifest themselves in a physical way
which scare not only the strangers
that pass me on the street
and see my now skeletal body
but also those I love the most.
Today I choose recovery. Today I choose to quiet that voice because it has changed from something I had control of and felt comfortable in, to something which scares everyone around me and myself.
Tenant Feb 2021
failure is a bag of lemons and the park yard pigeons 

that a women of ninety-two years carries with her everyday

come sleet or rain,

singing softly "please carry me away."

poor Martha.

pigeons don't migrate.
big sleeper Jan 2021
there is a blazing hole in the sky
where the sun decided to see itself out

"hello,
i am still here,
can you hear me?
i am still underneath
the miserable weight
of ten stories of steel and concrete"

you were once
the air i breathed
and now you are
crushing me

did you come to hate me slowly
or all at once

"hello,
i tried to call
but the line died.
come home
i miss you so much
this never happened"

i stepped into
a hole in the deck
where the board
had rotted through
i tried
to pull out my leg
but the wood cut deep
and cut true
i yelled
for help as the blood
flowed into my socks
and into my shoes
i cursed
your name
at the end
i cursed
your name
big sleeper Jan 2021
a satellite dish on the roof
of my grandfather's shed
sings to the stars

who will provide the countermelody?

i took you to a place on the beach
that my dad took me as a boy
to share these sweet things with you

it all means something.

there is a waterfall in the woods
in northwest indiana
where once the river ran so dry
you could look down into the riverbed
and see the roots of trees
gasping, begging for the water's return

we stood in the rain the next day
as the wind whipped petals
off the branches of the maple trees
and in the downburst
i fell so deeply love with you

will you sing with me?

there is no use in weeping
over things left unsaid
if they were better off
on the radio waves
bouncing down to the satellite
into the screen inside your head
to replay the crescendo to failure
in the moments before collapse
this got weird
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