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Is it so hardIs it so much not to be alone
To ask to go out even alone,
just able to say she's tired,
that she'll be here later,
She's got work in the morning
Is it so much to ask to not be the third wheel,
the fifth the seventh the eleventh,
Can't I ask to not go home alone
or to an empty bed, not every night
Can't I ask for a reason not to be out
or to come along, or to be late.
What about a reason to not go home.
Its it so hard to ask not to be alone.
To fill the void, and carry the pain.
To hold my tears, to cry for me,
because I wont, or I can't.
Is it to hard to ask to not be alone?
The Young Become Old, and Yet still YoungI doesn't hit me until the nights like thease,
The nights I go to bars and look around,
Where the crowds are old and the music still loud,
Where family still sits all around,
but not in the places of old.
It's not till the nights like thease do i realize how old I've become,
How Young I truely am,
and how old I have yet to become.
Burnt Bridges (Original)I burnt the Land
I boiled the sea
I salted the earth
and poisoned the wells
I Walked the earth,
yet I returned to you.
I saw the land reapi itself
I saw the bridge being rebuilt
When I started to put boards down,
you where gone, and the land was destroyed
I'm waiting....A heart surrounded by darkness
Each crevasse growing longer
Deeper with each day
I feel this heart
Being polluted by the darkness more and more .
The darkness seeps into the cracks
Like water into rocks
I'm waiting for the breaking point
I'm waiting for the shatter
I'm waiting .
Lone Wolf, No ClubI am a lone wolf
I live in exile
I live on the edges
I sit on my paws,
looking onto others.
I see happiness and
sorrow and pride,
but I feel none,
no happiness no
no sorrow or pride
Just the negative...
I feel fear,
fear of loneliness,
I feel fear,
of my own depression
I am a lone wolf.
I may not have chosen
my exile, but I
will embrace this, my exile
I will embrace
these dark emotions
tell light and
love find my dark
and tormented soul
for I am a lone wolf
and I have no club.
Ghosts that Never WhereMy mind falls back to the day we meet
That days seems long ago
Flash forward to your betrayal
The first knife you stuck in my heart
I would forgive you in time
For time heals all wounds
And still I felt for you
Years latter we stood on terms.
A year latter my feelings returned
But this time I felt them from you
Just a hint at first, but they where there
It took 6 month's for you to admit them
When you did I began to regret
I remember the night.
I relive it often
Dinner, you in that dress
Your sister in blue,
My tux, my red vest and tie
Driving your car, sitting alone in the sky
You, your texts. I read them to remember
To remember I wasn't imagining
To remember it was real
I remember the theatre
You head on my shoulder
I remember the dinner we shared
Your favorite restaurant
I remember the rumors
The rumors That ended what could have been
What ended what never was.
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stop
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
Burnt Bridges (V2)I burned the land,
I boiled the sea,
I did not find Screnity,
I Salted the Earth
and Poined the wells,
I walked away from the smoldering reamins
I roamed the earth for a time,
but I kept return to that place from before
I destroyed the land so She could move on
Yet she stayed, and tried to rebuild.
I finnely forgave my mistake,
I put the first board down on my side,
I look up and saw that she had moved on
and the land was destroyed once again
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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