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Nanna Gregersen Sep 2014
You're acting too indifferent to not care at all
Andrew Kerklaan Aug 2014
3:37 PM

Monday,

November,

Present Date....

Alive,

Awaiting Objectives.
I wrote this just before christmas last year.
I’m confined in my room
Reminiscing the days that have gone
I remember when I first felt it
Or the lack thereof of feeling

I yearn for my blood to rise
To feel any kind of pain
And yet,
Even joy misses me

I am no longer who I was
Just a soulless tomb
Blank and dull eyes
And a heart that beats out nothingness.
In the darkness of the night, I ponder
Remembering the insults and faults
But what strikes me as an oddity
Is the numbness taking over

In these times it’s a wonder
That they see me as cheerful
Never knowing how I really am
Dark, evil and cruel is my alternate

In the terrors of my abyss
I sat waiting patiently
For the time to get up and smile
And lie to the world once again.
Tania N Jun 2014
I wish I was the only one you called beautiful
I wish  I was the only one you would hold at night
I wish i was the only thing on your mind
*I wish I was all you carved
-      She was a dreamer who lived in
an insomniac world. Nothing came easy…
      every time she tried to begin,
she would stumble and fall, but that
    didn’t stop her. Although she thought
differently...her will could withstand anything
    thrown in her way, just another challenge fought.
The past haunted her days, shadowing almost
      every move…every single breath. Time
always promised to make things better,
      but she knew better than to find
truth in those words. Truth lay somewhere
    far from where she had ever let herself dream,
too heavy from all the weight she carried.
    There was only one time she let herself lean…
letting her weight get the best of her, thinking
      she could find a way to dream peacefully forever,
but even then she failed to succeed.
      She lost the ability to hold her world together.
   Indifferent to the world, numb to all
emotion, she lost hope in being set free.
   The darkness surrounding so great; faith too small.
So she poured her pent up pain,
     into artful master pieces.
She sketched abstract obscurities
     that depicted her darkest of secrets.
She painted intangible thoughts and
   feelings she longed to be fulfilled with through
majestic words that put anyone who dared
   to read, in the footsteps of her soul. Broken and blue
she crafted old warn memories into the
     picturesque landscapes of her wildest dreams. She
elegantly danced with the monsters under her bed and
     gracefully with the skeletons in her closet… breaking free.
there is more to be added to this poetic thought, eventually leading to "She is…", but figured if I posted part one it would motivate my inspiration to continue working with these brewing ideas.

— The End —