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Jayde Jan 2019
Trying to get a grip on my mental illness is like trying to build a house of cards
The process is going fine
But then you add a card slightly off
Or you put it down forcefully
Or you breathe a little too hard
Or the earth moves slightly
And it all comes tumbling down
So you start over
Maybe you get a little farther than last time
Or maybe you crash sooner
Maybe you'll finally build your house
Maybe you'll never succeed
Maybe you get it big and proud
Maybe you get it small and sad
Or maybe you get it just right
When you get it just right you sit back
You appreciate how it looks
You enjoy the moment
Because you know sooner or later it'll tumble down
Back to square one
Card by card
You try and you try
You fail and you survive
Rsebd Dec 2018
he
he has a darkness in him;
secrets that would leave
your heart cold.
the truth is, he’s broken.
loss is something he knows.

when you lose someone
that close to you,
you only ask for what
you need to survive without
that light.
but what you need to survive
ends up hurting you
and costing your life.

the reality is,
he was doomed from the start.
tryhard Dec 2018
i do not know
to be honest
what or who i am
or what i should be
i know not
why i am here
or any other reason
to stay a little longer
but what i find
just as hopeful
is i still do
despite not knowing
i am fighting
for a cause i cannot yet name
i am searching
without the assurance of finding
something is keeping me here
in the pointlessness of everything
and i do not why
but i am staying here
and as you can see my entire life is an existential crisis
newpoetica Dec 2018
her cracked lips and silent guilt
everything she now has, had to be built
to be strong, to be brave
he was the only person that she couldn't save
but the struggle wasn't her own to carry
because not all things in life are meant to be merry
she'll relearn to survive
to get out of this forsaken city, alive
honestly, i have zero idea where this poem came from, but i really like how it turned out! i hope you do as well:))
Letters from Lia Dec 2018
I burned our
old photographs,
it fell down
like dried leaves
in the autumn
The classic
gallery of our
love that was
once fascinating
became a
tedious one
The once white
walls and
clean corners
Are now dusty
and dark
The perfectly
carved frames,
and perfect
shots
became dull
and lifeless
You left me
knowing that
I won't survive
alone inside this
***** walls
Picture me
in your mind
And you'll see
the saddest photo
there will ever be
siin.li
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