Category:

Poetry & Art

For your poems.

13 Years

by lilsuicideangle007 2/21/2020

January 5th, 2007, a bright little girl was brought into this world. With her “Happy mother” and “Health Father”. 13 years ago she was happy.
12 years ago her dad became an alcoholic and sick
11 years ago her grandma got cancer
10 years ago her grandma died
9 years ago her brother killed himself
8 years ago she was being bullied
7 years ago her sister tried to commit suicide
6 years ago her dad almost died
5 years ago she was raped
4 years ago her family broke apart
3 years ago she started to cut
2 years ago she tried to kill herself
1 year ago her family lost themselves
Today she’s in the hospital almost dead for an overdose

2/21/2020 0 comment

Chronic Pain Family & Friends Effects General I Will Survive My Suicide Note Poetry & Art Rants Stories of Hope Stories of Loss Suicidal Survivors

Life is not fair

by niki 2/9/2020

written by niki

Life is not fair

Some people are lucky,
Some people are not

Some people live a successful & happy life,
Some people fail miserably & even commit suicide

Everything is just only a random chance

The universe doesn’t care
We are just only a tiny little speck of dust in this vast universe

Nothing matters.

2/9/2020 3 comments

Chronic Pain Family & Friends Effects General I Will Survive My Suicide Note Poetry & Art Rants Stories of Hope Stories of Loss Suicidal Survivors

To grow up and being an adult (adulthood) is overrated and depressing

by niki 2/7/2020

written by niki

When we grow up into being an adult, often we are pressured to be “realistic”. But at what cost? Too often, especially when you’re not ‘lucky/fortunate’ enough, all this whole “adulthood” and “grow up” things just turned us into a jaded, weary, bitter, cynical, apathy, limited, empty, cold, sad, & depressed person/individual..

The young, youthful, carefree, freespirit, creative, lively, happy, & dreamy/dreamer “child” / “childhood” in us often times slowly have died.. as we grow up into being an adult..

And for many people, it also usually means that we have to “let go”, or to be more honest & real, I would say that we are being pressured to kill our dreams..

Reality is cruel, cold, disappointing, very limiting, mundane/boring, stupid, pointless/meaningless (often times), & depressing.. especially for some of us who have fully realized it & wake up to the harsh truth.

2/7/2020 6 comments

General Poetry & Art

The stars are quite poetic

by Deadstar7 1/20/2020

written by Deadstar7

I end up here a lot. In this place where my mind races and then slows and either way I feel like I’m not breathing already.

The story of the stars fascinate me. That their light shines on for so long after they themselves have died out. And I’m only wondering if that is because I feel like that too.

My life has had so many tragic lows mixed with all sorts of positive highs. This true explosion of light. Some days I feel the contentment and peace that comes with being surrounded by the blues and purples of the galaxy. Others I think I might explode from the stress and anxiety of the meteor showers. Regardless I always stay in the same place. I always act the same. Like the trusty constellation stars you will always find in the same place if you know just where to look.

I feel like my head is in this time frozen space. Witnessing so much and feeling so small in comparison to what is out there. Desperately just wishing for some gravity to pull me out of this place i am in. For my light to mean something to someone even if I fade out and it’s all that’s left of me.

It’s easy to wish upon the first star you see, but does anyone ever really notice the same random star twice? I think they are just lucky glances. But when the earth turns and suddenly the sun shines down upon them, all of those little stars are soon forgotten.

I wonder what else is out there. What importance there is to just this monotonous routine of always ending up in the same place with the same thoughts.

Sometimes I wonder if these beautiful stars truly die, or if they just take their own light and run away in search of something more than this.

Both escapes sound beautiful.

Wish on a star tonight, it could be the last night of the millions it’s light has shown.

1/20/2020 2 comments

General Poetry & Art

negative

by Specter 12/26/2019

written by Specter

…

12/26/2019 0 comment

Chronic Pain General Poetry & Art

My Demons dont even bother.

by JudgeMeNot 12/24/2019

written by JudgeMeNot

I’ve come so far yet learned nothing.

Took a risk in hope to better my confidence. Failed to understand the simplest of obstacles. Isolated long enough to meet the stranger I see in the mirror, it stands with no emotion. My world is full of confusion, more of the same shit everyday.

My life if you can call it that. The purpose is to evolve and participate in modern society. Work, Love and Raise children. Everyone must contribute. I on the other hand have been left to my own perception, which is dangerous given you need others opinions to know right and wrong, to trust and deflect ideas. Pure loneliness has become my illness. I’m 25. I dont go out. I do everything alone. I save more money and only get to worry about myself, sounds good I guess. But if you cant get comfortable not having the attention from others than you will suffer in your own little world, that being my bedroom.

I don’t know how to live. I’m scared of what’s behind my bedroom door. I’m a slave to the unknown. I miss dating.. to be loved. To be looked at. To kiss and hold.

I’ve practice becoming the monster I fear the most because it’s all that I’ve ever felt..

It’s better to feel pain than to not feel at all.

My demons see this. They can smell how pathetic I am. They dont even bother.

12/24/2019 2 comments

General Poetry & Art

–

by Hadouken 12/19/2019

written by Hadouken

In you I find my darkness

The lonely and self defeat

The part of me whom struggles

So empty and obsolete

12/19/2019 2 comments

Chronic Pain Family & Friends Effects General I Will Survive My Suicide Note Poetry & Art Rants Stories of Hope Stories of Loss Suicidal Survivors

Being a good and nice person is not enough

by niki 12/17/2019

written by niki

You also must be ‘smart’ especially in terms of knowing how to make money. And often times, that also means you also have to be opportunistic, follow the system & rules (just like everybody else), even be cunning, sly, ruthless, brash, full of tricks, greedy, selfish, ready to step on other people who are ‘weaker’ (eg: poorer, etc).

Money is everything in our modern society today, unfortunately. It’s all about money nowadays. And if you can’t beat the system, then you have to join them. Everyday you are forced to survive, or for survival. And if you’re not strong enough to follow the system/rules, then too bad, either you will lose, get left out, get sidelined, trampled, kicked in a dirt, become a loser or failure in society, or you will die because you can’t survive.

Maybe life is just not for everyone. Maybe some of us are not meant to live in this world, society, existence, or whatever it is. Maybe it’s all really random and nihilistic, ie: some will live, and some will die. Just like ants, some will survive, and some will be killed, can’t survive, got unfortunate/bad luck, and die.

Life is depressing. Society is depressing. This world is depressing. Even all this whole existence thing is just depressing, mundane/boring, very limiting, sick, pointless/meaningless (for some people who really realize it), and honestly, everything is just so stupid.

12/17/2019 3 comments

Chronic Pain Family & Friends Effects General Poetry & Art

Sometimes

by Left-on-Dead 12/16/2019

written by Left-on-Dead

12/16/2019 2 comments

General Poetry & Art

Glass

by autumn_ 12/7/2019

written by autumn_

Broken pieces within.
Shards that I let in.
Fragments were too thin.
Yet they peel my skin.

12/7/2019 0 comment

Poetry & Art

Nothing

by SuchIsLife 12/6/2019

written by SuchIsLife

Nothing. Do you ever see it? I see it everyday. How empty this world and its pleasures. How fleeting its riches, how barren its comforts; how vanished its securities.
Nothing. Do you ever pursue it? I follow after it everyday. How disappointing when caught, when you remember it’s vapor. How sad it’s reward – more aptly named lost.
Nothing. Do you ever feel it? I feel it everyday. How hardened my heart, how gone my emotions. How the voice of my Beloved has lost its beloved place in my soul.
Nothing. Do you ever become it? I am nothing everyday. How less I am than a worm; worthless, rebellious dust. How little are my lamentations esteemed before the just.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

12/6/2019 3 comments

Poetry & Art

I wasn’t sure of publishing this, but here goes.

by VenusHope 11/28/2019

written by VenusHope

Days pass all the same, it’s like I’m in a maze, things don’t ever change.
With every pill and every conversation, it always leads me to my imagination.
Discerning reality from fiction, should I obey orders without resistance?
Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months. Is there really a difference…

Hiding from everyone, fearing their actions, leaving me petrified.
Covering it with a laugh, living in an endless mansion, making me stupefied.
Walking down the pathway, with meaningful portraits, memories of a life long forgotten.
It’s there, an abyss of nothingness. “Go on, venture into the unknown.” It will console.
Many others have walked this path, some go with a laugh, others void.
It’s your turn.

I take a step, hesitant. Hands clenched, it’s compelling. Enticing.
Another step, there are no memories flashing. I look back to the room I’ve spent my days in, to where there’s lighting.
A hand extends from a faceless entity, could it be representing what’s left of my humanity?
Silly goose, it’s too late. All there was, and will ever be, is pain.
I stride forward, with a confident gait. The last action of my own volition, let it be without hesitation.

It sucks me in, enveloping me in a calming way. Voices fill my head, lulling me away.
A pang of sadness buds, blossoming in my chest. What is it, that I regret?
There was a person, that held me back. But sadly, I can’t discern lies from facts.
A masterpiece, that I was blessed to have met.

Memories fade, there’s no point reminiscing. I wait. Closing my eyes, wishing for peace.
Like others before me, forgive me for being weak. I’ve tried, and it hurt, countless days laying inert.
Violence and tragedy, forging loose memories. Slashing and ripping, I no longer want to be needing.

Opening my eyes, is this what I really want? But I really don’t want to go back to the hunt.
My fate is sealed, like a missive being issued. No point thinking, you don’t have a high IQ.
Wetness on my cheeks, I smile. So this is what it feels like, to be gone.

11/28/2019 2 comments

Coping Skills Poetry & Art

A cicada tale

by aCicada 11/27/2019

written by aCicada

I think it’s time I shed my skin
after 5 years
of no contact
or rather
a very little contact
I had with her.

I remember the early days
staying underground
under the Silent Hill
pondering
How in hell could that been
such an easy goodbye
after countless nights
of being together.

I knew about her predators
living outside
and I was worried
like.. really worried.
I remember the very beginning
the hardships
of making through to the next night.
And then the next one..
And the next..
At the time
She was my only friend.
I had to protect her by any means.

We argued sometimes
Not as much as we did at the latter times
but still..
She’s a hot head
And would say words
than after she would come back again
after a cool down
with an apology
like the last time.

Although her wit was beyond her age
there is another thing I liked most
was her never ending buzz
every night
squeaky but yet
one of the kind.
I swear I could live with it
my whole life.

Now that I’ve come this far
I’ve realized that
all she told me is just a story
her squeaky voice is a memory
promises are not going to be kept
and I will be just someone
she once knew.

I should do something about it.
But I don’t know exactly what.
I’ll do what I can do.

Then all that what is left over
is
join my billions or gazillions
of my kind.

11/27/2019 1 comment

Chronic Pain General Poetry & Art Rants

I like Blood

by Unsheard 11/17/2019

written by Unsheard

I like the feeling of it running across my skin.
I like the deep rich color.
I like the scars that it leaves behind, the look, the feel.
I like the stains it leaves.
I like the pain it brings.
I like everything about it.
But I hate myself because of everything I do to see it

11/17/2019 5 comments

Chronic Pain General Poetry & Art Rants

Only Human

by JudgeMeNot 11/14/2019

written by JudgeMeNot

I lost my youth.
I’m older now, while time eats away my energy soon it will consume my fate.
Life doesn’t teach anything. Only death speaks truth. Brings emotion that’s beyond life itself. I envy the dead. There is no righteousness or reason to abide by morals in this common Society.

Dont do this/dont say that, right and wrong, good and bad.
Let’s not censor the barbaric nature of humanity for it is, who we are. Always have always will. The only way to get you’re point across is to be violent.
Yet words can be just as dangerous, sadly it cant defend you from a AR-15. So be careful what you say to the people you look down upon.
We all play the mythical and mortal role of “God”
I can create and take life.

“Judge not, lest ye be judged”

But you always do. You stare and mock the abnormal. I can feel
The energy. It’s pure hate. You dont know me and yet ive upset you without even looking.
My demons are a great Council of mine but not even they can understand humans.
Natural selection/ survival of the fittest has become a laugh. The king doesn’t stand at the top of the hill. He drowns at sea level with the rest of us. My point is this.

We are all unpredictable especially the unexpected.

Love,
Brody

11/14/2019 1 comment

Coping Skills General Poetry & Art Rants Stories of Loss

Whats the worst?

by Unsheard 11/13/2019

written by Unsheard

If I went back to who I was, what is the worst that could happen. The old me was so happy just living. Yet for some reason i’m scared of being normal again. It’s been years since I was happy just being alive and going through the motions of life. Then it took one girl to unravel my life, that’s bullshit and I know it. Still there’s something holding me back…

11/13/2019 1 comment

General Poetry & Art

Depression Personification.

by strawberrycrown 10/31/2019

written by strawberrycrown

I will consume you. I will completely take over your life. You’ll think you’re in control but really I will be. I’ll change the way you think about everything, the way you live. I will slowly destroy everything you once knew and loved. I will ruin your life until you don’t want it anymore. I’ve always been a winner, even when other people say you can beat me. You can’t. I will end you. Or you will end your life because you can’t live with me anymore. I’m too powerful for you to handle.

I am depression.

10/31/2019 3 comments

General I Will Survive My Suicide Note Poetry & Art Rants Stories of Hope Suicidal Survivors

Lost

by the99cut 10/14/2019

written by the99cut

Between the line of fear and blame you begin to wonder why you came…
A lyrics from The Fray, How to save a life.

I’ve been bullied when i was in grade school and it was the scariest thing a little girl have to go through.

Highschool was a lot of fun, except things from family starts to jump out.

I started to appreciate the songs Perfect and Welcome to my life by Simple Plan… Its really the lyrics that made me close to the music. It embrace me to bed.

Boulevard of broken dreams by Green day came in my playlist, That’s when i realize my friends don’t understand me.

Now im in college and life fcks me up so damn much that it made me numb…

I’m depressed since i was a kid, when i was sixteen suicide thoughts came right in… now im twenty, i feel exhausted. Breathing is getting harder that i think it can choke me. Anxiety attacks are much worst cause my heart palpitates rapidly and it kinda hurt.

I hate everyone. They made me like this. but sometimes i think, maybe i made myself into this.

I’m actually scared to live,

and I’m actually scared to die.

I’m tired. I am screaming inside. I breakdown almost everyday and different time.

My depression and anxiety are my demons. I hear their voices, in the morning, afternoon, evening… they don’t seem to get tired at all.

Some people told me; “You need to be strong”, ” God will help you, just pray”, “Be positive”, ” There’s always a rainbow after the rain”, “You’ll get better soon”… It easier to say things like that but it doesn’t really help. It doesn’t work that way… It made me think, I had a bad life and they have a good one. They’re lucky.

My depression and anxiety have become a part of me for the past i dunno since i was nine? and until i die i have them with me… They’re my friend and my enemy.

In case your reading this, i don’t need someone to help me or to fix me, I just need people to stop breaking me.

10/14/2019 0 comment

General Poetry & Art