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Damocles 12m
I have so many daggers put in my back
That trusting another soul is profoundly insane
I expect you will ****** in yet another blade.
I wonder, what can one sew with the pins in my spine
If I gave you threads of honesty in every produced line?
Morning BPD thoughts
Arpitha 1d
My thoughts weaved a web
And ensnared me step by step
They have become me
Or have I become them?
Bri 1d
Pools of hazel
Dynamic and ever changing
The sun glittering off leaves,
Leading to the roots embedded in the soil
Deep and thoughtful,
Never ending
The eyes of a thinker, a writer,
Eyes pooling with tears as they smile
Eyes that have seen all the darkness,
The hurt and the pain
Eyes that have shed a millions drops
Glittering like a thousand knives
Windows into the depths of the mind
Revealing,
For an instant,
What hid behind the mask
Sunlight illuminating-
Deep pools of thought
Her eyes
elio 1d
It shouldn't be shunned
But surrounds me are those unwilling
to utter words that speaks of it.
A culture so fearful of what is most natural.
When death is the natural progression of life.
Not something to be shunned and avoided.
But embraced!
Celebrated!
Oh sweet death, my lovely companion.
Thoughts of you bring me comfort.
One day we will dance and dine.
Till then I soak in the ever spinning sun
Willing to speak on what others fear.
Life is beautiful.
I made peace with my station eons ago,
Perched atop a mountain edge, overlooking a sea of my thoughts.
I sit on the ground while the tall grass sways,
Knees to my chest, drinking it all in,
Hair blowing softly by the winds of change.
A place made on my own,
Created from protection or fear, origin unclear.

Today's a little different however,
The temperature is warmer,
And I'm missing the slight rain that usually falls.

Maybe I’m out of my mind,
But I swear there’s a boat resting on my beach,
Worn and waiting with patient grace,
Rocking gently in the shallow reach,
As if to say, “You’ve sat here long enough,”
Inviting me to finally stand,
To leave this quiet mountain edge behind
And see where I might land.
I’m ever-changing, though I keep one foot here.
But it’s time to leave now, that message is clear.
This sanctuary was solace, and I’m grateful for that,
But it’s also kept me stuck and held me back.
I'm tired.
Not just sleepy.
Not just worn.
I mean soul-tired.
I mean breathing-feels-like-a-task tired.
I mean I wake up choking on nothing
but the weight of still being here.
Like I slept underwater
and the air hasn’t forgiven me yet.

I'm tired.
Of scrolling just to drown out the silence
because silence screams louder than sound.
Of staring at nothing
because moving means choosing
and I’m so tired of choosing
when every choice feels like a trap
in a maze I never asked to be in.

I'm tired.
Of trying to begin
when the beginning is a thousand miles away
and the end is breathing down my neck.
I’m stuck in this middle,
this endless, merciless middle
where everything is urgent
and nothing feels real.

I'm tired.
Of crying like it’s a ritual,
like maybe if I break hard enough
something will fix itself.
Maybe a task will complete.
Maybe a word will write.
Maybe I’ll feel like I earned the right
to exist today.

I'm tired.
Of surviving like it’s a performance.
Of making it through
and still feeling like I failed.
Like I borrowed this day
and forgot to pay it back
with usefulness.

I'm tired.
Of wanting to scream
but swallowing it whole.
Of wanting to be held
but not so tightly I can’t disappear.
Of wanting to be seen
but not stared at.
Of wanting to matter
but not be measured.

I'm tired.
In a way that sleep can’t touch.
In a way that makes hope feel like a scam
and joy like a prize I’ll never win.
In a way that makes even dreaming
feel like work.

I'm tired.
And still...
here I am.
Spilling myself onto this screen
because maybe if the pain has rhythm
it’ll hurt a little less.
Because maybe if I say it loud enough
someone, somewhere,
will finally understand
what I mean
when I say...

"I'm tired."
I’m flipping cards and reading the room,
The sun has set, I’ve a meeting with the moon.
I’m begging her, please, take this part out of me,
The part that holds back until she gets up to leave.

I want to be open without all the hurt,
I want something real, something that works.
I daydream and plan and fantasize life a certain way,
But I want to accept it how it is today.

I want to believe the words from his lips,
But I think they’re poison, and I’m being tricked.
I spiral and spin and tornado a lot,
Trying to be brave, something I’m not.

It feels okay until everything is quiet,
Then all of my feelings join in a riot.
I just need a second or two to relax,
But I’m always on edge, and I can’t seem to step back.

Yet I don’t fall, just stand here and wait
For the wind to call or to decide my fate.
Just enough fear to keep me frozen in place,
Standing on a cliff in a purgatory daze.
A little too aware of everything at once
One who can never die, and
One who has a day left to live

Will both live
Without regard for their future
Just a thought. If you're immortal, nothing matters cause you're desensitized from the years and no nation's consequence can **** you. And the latter has no future.
Tint 5d
I am going on a journey.
Suddenly, it dawned on me —
what if I die?

Abrupt. Unnoticed.

Is there anything
I could leave behind?
Other than grief,
than sadness,
regret?

I realized — no.
I have none.

So I stood up,
braced myself:

I will not die.
At least,
not today.
We pivot, and we keep going.
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