For your poems.
So cute and so fragile and so soft
hello little bunny, might you be lost?
Cuddle little bunny, I need your warmth .
Squeeze little bunny, I need your corpse.
goodnight little bunny, you’re not needed anymore.
I can’t write with any feeling
My work’s always unappealing
Even when my skin is peeling
Off and my mind is reeling
I don’t know what I am feeling
I don’t know if I am feeling
I was told a bit ago that everything I create seems empty and void of feeling, so I was going to write a thing about that…. About how I can’t really put feeling into things if I barely have those things to begin with, and of course me not being able to stay on task or topic with anything just sort of led to this pile of shit…. Obviously now I should add two lines …
Rise from the grave
Bring them pain
Make them all into stains
Show them all of your distain
Tell them all how you’re thirsting
To see all their bodies bursting
Hear all their dying screams
Eat all those crying teens
Taste their tears
Haunt their fears
Linger in their best dreams
Turn them into stressed machines
Rend their flesh
End their breath
Hit refresh
End their death
Watch them all reanimate
All to help exterminate
Their old friends and family
Be the end, the calamity
Meh, decided I can toss this here…. I wrote this while in the mindset of a necromancer for some reason…. -_-
Maybe one day I should put more than 20 minutes of effort into something, then maybe I could write something …
Do you want to know what the best joke is?
I wish that pain would vanish, fall out of focus
People are crying masses full of sadness
Chocking, dying on the gasses of their own madness
Isn’t it fabulous?
Makes you want to quit and slit your wrist
Doesn’t it?
I guess I should share that short, shitty thing I wrote…. I gave up on keeping track of things I wrote, and kind of gave up on writing all together. I’m still alive, and mostly just checking here quickly…. Things are going well enough I guess, kind of speaking to people a lot and stuff. I am worried about when I stop …
The perfect solution to already tortured souls is to torment them for all eternality. Sounds Good to me O’loving God. Who wants a marshmallow?
My chest is where my heart beats
My chest is where my lungs expand with life
My chest is where the emptiness can be found
My chest is where I feel the most sorrow and despair
My chest is where I sometimes cry deep down
But most importantly MY CHEST is where I place my hand to remind myself I am still…….ALIVE
By BitterSweet Angel
after years of suffering, it’s getting good at last.
i think i’m feeling happy and it seems to last for a while. the question here is, why did God tortured me like that?
i know that the day would come that everything will turn upside down again and i will feel down and suicidal -since no happiness is everlasting and no sadness, too- and i think that i’m not ready for that day.
i definitely feel stronger than before all these things happened to me – i don’t really want to say what i’m referring to by “these” – but i don’t like the idea of being put …
I wish I could stay here…
However, talking to you all and reading
All of your stories…
Makes it harder for
Me
To Stay
…
I’m always going to be falling
Apart.
And yet, I post this and you people try
To make me stay…
Yet that decisions isn’t yours to make…
I try to make wishes to stay
…
I have so much going on I have a feeling that
I won’t make
It to the end of summer,
Unlike what my friends
Want me to
Do…
Even though
We do nothing together
They make it harder for me to stay…
Alive…and well and a whole bunch of random crap…
My life is
A
Bunch
Of
Random
…
Crap…
Nothing to see here…
I’m done…
Just
Plain
Done…
Sorry Farah
Here it is again today
The blues
What a mysterious set of hues
I wish they’d go away
Here I am again today
Alone
Is this hell or is it home?
Why is everything so grey
And again I’m calling out to you
Screaming your name
Don’t you think it drives me insane?
I don’t know what more I can do
Is there something more I need to prove?
What more is there to lose?
You’ve left and gone your own way
Leaving me here with hell to pay
It’s an honest shame
That I still give into this game
Again I hear the chorus of
“You’re so brave”
But will you say that when I’m in my grave?
The definition of “coward” fits like a …
depressed people are not weak. they are the strongest people. they fight more than anyone else and fall more than anyone else but still decide to get up. depression is a very deep battle inside a human being and is not fixed by blaming them for being depressed. love them no matter what they are going through, embrace them when they are frustrated for no reason and don’t give up on them. just don’t.
ÅNot how I usually write but I started on this, kind of a dreary night. I like how it came out. I’ve been writing a lot about creepy crawlers and things that go bump in the night. In this, I was taking an approach on likening parts of a human through personification. Supposed to be creepy, ominous sounding. Working on instrumentals.
supposed to be psychedelic rock and hip-hop and screamo/hardcore band….. very experimental with the different subsets of music.
This is hardcore.. obviously.
GOLD FISH SWIMMING THROUGH YOUR INTESTINE
GLOW WORMS MASSAGING YOUR BRAIN
LIGHTNING BUGS TO POWER YOUR VISION
AN APPLE CORE AS A SPINE
LITTLE BLACK SPIDERS BURROW IN YOUR HEAD
CLAWS OF DEATH SQUEEZING YOU BY THE NECK
APHIDS UPROOTING YOUR ROSE HIPS
CUPID’S BOW SPIRALING YOUR LEECH LIPS
ELECTRIC EELS PUTTING THE SHOCK IN YOUR HEARTBEAT
– – – – –
LAUGHTER BUBBLES LIKE A CAULDRON OF FROG’S BREATH
YOUR TEETH AS TERMITES GNASH DOWN WHAT YOU CHEW
SUCK IN DEAD MEAT AND SPIT OUT THE BONES
THE MOP ON YOUR HEAD, A CROW’S NEST
ACID RAIN DRIZZLES OUT YOUR TEAR DUCTS
A TRADE WIND BLOWING KEEPS YOUR HAND FIXED
UNBUTTON YOUR SKIN, ATTIRE SHELTERING YOUR TENDONS.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TOOK A NAP IN A COFFIN
WOKE UP BURIED ALIVE
CONCRETE UP TO YOUR NECK
THE SUN IS SETTING JUST ABOVE YOUR EXPLODING HEAD
THE AIR IS REEKING OF YOUR ABYSMAL DREAD
THE SENSE OF EXILE SETS IN
HOLLLLLLLDDDDDDDDD OOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
His name is Robert , I was only 8 years old sitting all alone on the couch. I remember his white T-shirt, all by myself in a crowed house. He hid in the kitchen to hide from the suspicion. He took my innocence, he was very quick. It only took a minute, this monster was sick. Like a broken record it repeats in my mind. 15 years pass and I’m still not fine.
They say your body is your temple but I was vandalized. This Innocent little girl on the couch was now traumatized.
He wasn’t the first to hurt me, and wasn’t the last, this little …
I’m gonna do it from me to humanity hold on and don’t give up stay strong.
It will be rope this time
I have my doubts that anyone will even read this in its entirety. But I thank you if you do. I’m posting an essay by Allen Ginsberg, a poet from the beat generation. If you’d like, skip ahead and read it. If you’d like to read a little background about me and my history, read on. I sincerely hope at least someone bothers to give this a read. Allen Ginsberg is my personal hero. I happened upon his works when I was 19. Depressed, suicidal, half insane from isolation and mental trauma, I would spend my …
The belief that you
are not good enough
will force you
to entertain things
that are not worthy
of your time
the belief that you
are not good enough
will force you
to remain in an environment
that will destroy your ability
to thrive in any relationship
you attempt to create
the belief that you
are not good enough
will force you into situations
thay will cause you
to compromise your standards
the belief that you
are not good
…
I don’t want to be suicidal. I don’t want to feel as though the only way to make things better for everyone is through my absence. But that’s always where I seem to end up.
Too many feelings all at once
I don’t know how to stop
Wish it would end
I don’t want to be here
It hurts to be alive
It hurts to hurt you
I’m tired of trying, of being, of
Why can’t I be normal??!?!??!!?!??!!?!??!?!?
What is my purpose
Why am I here
Jumbled thoughts running through my head
Just keep living
One more day
Make it to the next
I am calm
The storm has passed
More like locked away
But we don’t talk about that
I never talk …
Many things can happen in life,
This I know.
But what do you do,
When the pain is to much to bare.
You hurt yourself,
And call It fair,
You tell yourself that it is your you fault,
That you should have cared.
Now it’s to late.
I didn’t think it would happen to me. At all. Why would it happen? That is what I don’t understand, he tries to help, and I know he cares. It hurt him too, but why? Why does it hurt? Why am I so upset? The baby, can I …
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