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Haruharu Sep 2017
Walking through the corridors, feeling the judgemental looks burning on my skin.

To them I'm a stereotype, a girl filled with tattoos, a skinhead jacket and a fake smile.

A threat maybe?

No I can't be?
I'm laughing all the time, so no one will notice.

If they only knew..

What's hiding inside me.
A broken sensitive heart.

A trumatized girl,
who only wants to be herself,
without people looking at her differently and constantly.

Do they see the victim-stamp tattooed on my forehead?
Do they know? Can they?
Danny Aug 2017
You're so cool, so hot
you could be a model,
But you're far from a model girl
You spend your time hiding from our enemies, defy them
You don't compare to other girls
You don't let them change your mind but
Across the room you cry at their prys
Why do you listen to the lies?
They pry your eyes wide open and force you to see what's not there
What's not theirs to say
Why do people treat you this way?
They can't be jealous of the pain can't hide
When your looks don't reflect how you feel inside
So you open your soft wrists to the night.
They cry red tears that you're trying to wipe
But they keep on pouring, draining from your face
Clean sheet white in it's place
The fresh pink glow defaced
Because they can't embrace the you that's real, the you that means the world to him
He has his own pain but it was never his lover
In the constant rain, you were his cover
That was before you lost your colour
What can he do now? He'll never recover
When lying in the bath he discovers
He finds the thing that he's dreading the most, he's shearing tears like never before.
You'd told him your dream of their white wedding but he never expected that you meant white like this.
He holds your hand, cold to touch Screaming about how you've hurt him so much
Whispering that it was only ever you
He'd never love another.
He carried you from the bath to the bed and comforted you and kissed your head
"Goodnight my love" he closed his eyes and wished you could open yours instead
Take that pain upon his head
But you're gone and will never be replaced
So for one final time he held your waist and sang to you, that song he sang that very first date,
The one about dreams and fate
He remembered how he fell in love that night as he held you so close and tight and danced under the moonlight
Delight had consumed him
But now the hate had consumed you
A single tear rolls, alone like him
He looked at the moon like that first time
And took his place by your side like cruel art.
He even used the same blade as you, and drove it through his heart.
Seeker Jul 2017
so you wanted a rose tattoo
but you never got one
you thought eventually you would
but not now
you thought you had time

but you never got one
because eventually never came
and now meant ever
we thought you had time

you were in the hospital bed
chemo always keeping you company
but you knew that hospital bed wouldn't be there soon
and now you're in the clouds

my cousin wanted a tattoo
but she couldn't decide what to get
you told her just get one already
because life is too short to not do what you want

one week later
you were gone
we were broken
and you looked over all of us

my cousin listened to you
she got that tattoo
so that you're always with her
oh those angel wings

you wanted a rose tattoo
just on your ankle
but you never got it
because time ran out

you never got the chance
to truly do what you wanted
to be wild
and feel free

so I'm getting a rose tattoo
just on my ankle
because next summer
it will be 10 years

10 years ago
you told my cousin to live her life
10 years ago
your life was taken

so mom,
I'm getting a rose tattoo
with your birth date
going up along the stem

the stem will be dark green
with thorns
but the rose will be red
and fully bloomed

because you didn't have a great past
but i know you're free now
something rough
can become smooth

so i want a rose tattoo
and I'm getting it next summer
because 10 years ago
my mom didn't live out her life like she wanted
so i will for her
Psychosa Jun 2017
Her crystal ball held his fears of the future,
for she painted over the scars of his past.

Her jaded eyes were in denial of the life before him.
Her hands held his ribcage like no one ever could.

Traced in black,
her locks
fell
against
his side,
hiding his secrets within her jaded eyes.

Lips seeping with his secrets,
she blew away his pain to the silver blade,
stabbed between roses as black as night.
Psychosa Jun 2017
~ The stories on his skin were painted from the pain within ~
Jodie LindaMae May 2017
*** sickens me as an artifact,
A cruel twisting of the womb;
An androgynous vein
Bursting out of a wealth of shame.

They tell you not to soak
A new tattoo for two weeks time
But these wounds, these ethereal,
Spiritual tattoos of mine
Have been festering under water
For a lifetime.

If only the ink
Of the pen
Of my past
Could just bleed

Out.
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