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The Face At The DoorThe face at the door is a demon, a god
He smiles through stitches, his stare rather odd
The face at the door is a cruel, silent being
Yet, people are calm, and the children aren't fleeing
Quiet yourself, for you're the only one
Crying for help at the point of a gun
Learn how to fly, rather, learn how to fall,
The face at the door... well... there's no face at all.
I'm Fine"Are you okay?"
No. I'm dying. I have to push myself to wake up in the morning, and when I finally do, I want to go back to sleep. Even my best dreams are becoming nightmares. I can't taste food, I can't stand the things I used to love. I'm breaking. I'm fading. I'm dying.
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyes
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
CanvasLet her paint a masterpiece,
Let her paint a lie
Let her paint a word inside the shining silver skies.
Let her paint a mystery,
Let her paint a sin
Let her paint the things that lie in darkness deep within.
Let her paint a masterpiece
(but this time there's a twist)
Make the brush a blade and let the canvas be her wrist...
Love AgainHear my worries, fear my cries
Dread the whispered lullabies
Drown beneath the spinning skies
Feel the truth you can't deny
Taste the blood upon your tongue
Feel the poison fill your lungs
I am she who lies among
Those who know where things belong
Feel the weapons kiss your skin
Listen to the screeching wind
See my power, watch me win…
And never fall in love again…
You and MeCrystal drops of water resting sweetly in her eyes
Take her hand and hold her, wipe away her very cries
Take her through a forest lying deep within her mind
Shining gowns and silver crowns to which she once was blind
Take her through a meadow with the sparkling light blue skies
Wash away her guilt and say hello to the goodbyes
Quick, before she melts away, do take her hand and show
Everything she really never truly got to know
Quick, before she disappears, before she never sees
All that things could soon become and all that things could be
Take her shaking hands and hold them softly inside yours
Show her what was once a wall can turn into a door
Quick, before she vanishes, do show her all ahead
Look into those diamond eyes and speak the words so dead
All she needs to know is that, no matter what could be
Nothing is more powerful than the words "you and me"...
CancerFeel the pain aching through your bones
Your flesh, seemingly fading to dust
Your mind, burning
Your thoughts, racing.
"It'll be okay."
No it won't.
Fight the tears, your father can't see you cry.
You're a fighter.
"You can do this."
No, I can't.
You don't have cancer.
Is who you are.
The Story of a Homeless Young GirlThere she lies on dirty pillows
Scratching the bottoms of sidewalks
Some people wish for a house made of gold
Well, she just wishes for a home.
Some people wish for a lovely dinner
While she simply wishes for a meal.
But a smile lies
On her innocent face
For she does not yet know greed.
Keep in mind the girl's young age
Her innocence toward anger and rage.
A girl with the eyes filled with silent pain
But nevertheless, a smile on her face.
One day a man came about
And offered her something to eat.
Two apples and a bread of wheat.
She took some bread crumbs and gave them to the birds
Without crying a tear or saying a word.
So she split what remained of the bread right in two
And gave him one of the fruit.
"Let's share it," she said, with a grin on her face
"For there's nobody else willing to."
So much time, so little to doI have seen the beauty of a dove beneath the skies
I have told the harshest truths, and I have told some lies
I have seen a child cry into its mother's arms
I have been that weeping girl who held onto self-harm
I have heard the laughter of a man about to die
I have seen the anger resting deep within their eyes
I have been the victim of my own disgusting thoughts
I have seen the best of people slowly start to rot
I have felt the heartache; I have seen a love go blue…
So much time is left to spare, but so much less to do…
I am not my illness.To find fear in Campbell's soup cans:
not the cans themselves, perhaps,
but in the press of the aisles,
as if the shelves lean inward to cocoon me,
not warm, but suffocating
a shower of tumbling canisters, wild purpling bruises,
the anticipated laughter of onlookers.
Imagined images, but my palms sweat anyway.
Take the soup cans off the shelf:
chicken noodle for lunches at work,
cream of mushroom, broccoli,
chicken stock for casseroles.
The check-out is just three list items away,
and this time I'm going to make it;
I am not my illness.
To find fear in thin sheets of legal paper:
not in the lines and matted bleached fibres,
but in the words I must scribe for
part A, part B, part C
pick a question, one of two for each part,
write answers, full sentences, spelling counts.
Swallow bottle of pills if the result is not an A plus?
Worthless, worthless, must do better!
Just an exam, but to me, my whole self-worth.
Choke down terror, press pen down,
Break FreeI've been walking through rain
Can't get any wetter
Just another joke
Lurching in a hooded sweater
With no place to roam
Born the product
Of a broken home
I can't say any more
Because I've said it all
Curled in a ball
With no wearwithal
Trying to fly
Without any wings
Getting pissed off
At the stupidest things
But that's about it
I've had quite enough
I'll just soak it all in
The smooth and the rough
Forget being mad
Or getting depressed
No room for sorrow
Or all the rest
I must pause a moment
Just so I can breathe
It's the only solution
When my emotions seethe
Fill my lungs with air
And feel it release
Start taking advantage
Of the time that I cease
And when I break free
From this rut that I'm in
I'll be able to go
Where no one else has been
The rain will clear
The sun will shine
I'll remove my coat
And walk down the line
I'll go slow at first
Then begin to jog
Move up to a sprint
And run like a dog
With the wind in my hair
And a smile on my face
It's impossible to tire
With Anxiety Behind My EyesHow to begin... Firstly, I thought I didn't need anyone and now I do, more than ever. Recently my pain has shattered itself into pieces, tinkling as each fragment hits the floor with a sickening tinkling sound, concentrating my complete feeling of loss and despair...
The pen taps on the table, marking out a steady, rhythmic pattern. Already a dent is forming in the wood; it's shallow, but just hollow enough for the girl to see. She rakes a hand through her peroxide-blonde hair, running her fingers through the black roots and pink fringe. She can feel the colours there and she bites her lip carefully, so as not to draw blood; she wouldn't want that.
It's only recent, you must know. Well, no, I correct myself for it's been going on longer than these past months. You'd recognise it if I told you what my suspicions were but I can't bear to tell you face to face. Besides, I'd rather you work it out for yourselves.
Every breath comes with a rattling noise, the sound reverberat
It's OverI like to see you happy,
Only want to see you smile..
Just take a break from this never-ending
Search for love for awhile..
And all the answers that you are seeking
Will be troublesome for you to find
It might mean that everything is blurred in your eyes.
So if it's over, then let it end
Don't search for me,
For another begin,
Lets not be hurt again
When it's over, let it go
Because I'm not worth it,
Gotta let me go.
There is no other way to put this
No other words for me to say
You'll just keep losing your mind,
You'll just keep losing all your faith.
Maybe now you won't believe it
But there's not much time to spare
I know the things that you're feeling, I see
That you are just scared
So if it's over, then itis really over
The past is gone you have to understand
I'm not worth your time, your blood, your tears,
Why do you still care?
When it's over, let it go
Because I'm not worth it,
Gotta let me go.
Just sit down
AnxietyMy pulse beats quickly,
My lungs feel tight.
I hate this feeling
This superficial fright.
The nervous sensation
And tears I cry,
Prevent me from living,
I can't understand why.
The nausea in my stomach,
Stops me from having a life.
Losing all purpose,
This can't be right.
These thoughts overcome me,
As I try to be strong.
Crushing my hopes,
Causing me to do wrong.
Your anger lashes out on me,
When you just can't comprehend.
I'm sorry that I'm this way,
I want this nightmare to end.
Circus: The FunambulanceWalking the tripwire
between not glorifying suicide
and not patronising people
with the lie; I would never
- I suck in my nausea and fight
not to close my eyes as I
vulnerable and afraid
in front of my tenderhucked audience.
Their eyes pluck out
and give an attentive
standing ovation as I exhale
and stagger forward
- a shout,
a fall -
and for a moment
I wonder if there is
a safety net there for me at all,
and if my devoted audience
would prefer to see my
neck//shatter on stage.
I am notI’m not your little boy.
You’re not my little girl.
I’m just someone you met,
And wants to change the world
I’m not the prince in your dreams
I don’t have smarts or might
I’m just the one that screams
And cries to sleep at night
I’m not who you want me to be.
I will never be what you are.
I’m myself, I am free.
I’m not ashamed of my scars
I’m not that weak
You’re not that strong
You still have company
But I’m still alone
So I speak
Though this poem.
It’s not a pretty love song
I’m just saying what pains me, explaining what’s going on.
Because I am not perfect,
I’m not retarded,
I’m just like you,
There is always a reason to be
And I won’t regret
I’m always happy to be me.
The EditorMakeshift by the lake,
I watched you finish my sentence
- Hastily retracting the bitterness
and editing out
my overstated meaning.
A fly serenaded you,
As you derooted the root,
- Deflowered the bud
and edited out
every semblance of a meaning.
I allowed it, in the summer haze.
For you to slather me
- In someone elses
soaked in someone elses feeling.
But when you slept at last
I arose, painted bleach by your tongue
- Shook off your petty rules
and crossing outs
and ran away, free - and feeling.
ConfusionI cannot keep a steady hand
to write empty words upon a page.
back and forth,
thoughts like fireflies in the dark.
I have no tracks for my rambling thoughts,
so they seep
through the cracks in sidewalks
as I wander through the streets,
looking for a place-
make of home of
So I grab at empty spots on pages,
praying that somehow writing down the confusion
will burn it away
and leave me blessedly empty.
QuicksandHere I stand in quicksand, watch me falling to the earth
Drenched with insecurity and bathed in lost self-worth
Monster underneath me, quickly rising to the skies
Here I stand in quicksand, like a puddle of goodbyes
Here I stand in quicksand, sinking deeper into dirt
Ease the pain inside of me, I hate the way it hurts
Slowly being swallowed by the shadows, by the ground
Here I stand in quicksand… it's too late to catch me now…
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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