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Slut That's my name I'm a dirty little whore. Easy. Hoe. No one knows what I've been through. The thoughts that chill my heart like ice, the night that played again and again in my head. On repeat.
Tired. Why even bother, Trying. Lying is easier, Dying is easier. Time. It's only a matter of it Before I lose it, Before I throw a fit. Ostracized.
Bulimia says Throw up You're not good enough To be allowed food You're not skinny enough You don't deserve to eat You don't deserve food Once you're skinny Then you can eat.
It's been a long time since I've felt a sadness like that. I haven't felt grey and hollow for many months. And this surprises me.
I walk in the shadow of a brother turned bad. He steals and he lies and he's nearly gone mad. He's got a record, quite a big one he had. It's all just going down.
Im not proud my foul feelings were reflected. Obviously they stem from feelings of being neglected. My hurtful words were callas a chalice of unprotected malice.
So beautiful. Total disregard of her own feelings she fights to understand and help. A selfless understatement, though never fully appreciated, never truly noticed. So beautiful.
Is that all I'll ever be. A blot on the paper of extistence. The dot in an "i" in the novel of life. A simple screw in a machinery masterpiece. A candlesticks glow in a lighthouse. Unimportant.
Good day. I'm never less than brilliant. At all tasks I take on. I'm amazing at computer games. At drawing I'm the don. I'm a genius with my word play. With a cue I am the "one".
Oh empathy what tragedy, behold on me, do i see be. Another soul, another life. Blessed with sorrow, filled with strife. The simple things, thou have denied, deny my touch, foretell my life.
In case you ever wanted to know more about me....here's a talkative blog: I'm going to be very upfront with you all; you probably wouldn't like me if you knew me in person.
Sometimes I'd wonder what it be like if they knew what I do when I'm "down in the dumps." I know that I'd be judged by some and hated by a few, even if I am working on pulling myself through.
Once there was a lady They called her Scatter Brain. Her mind was a little shady, Like a book left in the rain. Oh, the pain. Scatter Brain. She didn't know the refrain.
#communitystory "You see that?" A finger pointed to a fat little penguin happily nipping at another penguin's flipper. "They're fighting!" the little girl cried. "No, they're playing.
#communitystory "What am I doing here?" He wondered to himself as the door closed behind him and his eyes began scanning the surroundings.
A yearning deep inside. For loneliness the need to hide. Isolation from the crowd. Keeping my head up in the clouds. Cowering in the corner. As the seconds turn to days. Becoming the shadows.
Can depression be a phase. A short chapter of a whole.
Theres a special feeling,. a certain feeling quite tragic,. it rages in the mind,. like a fire burning plastic,. it does not go away,. just stays to fight a war,. fights a war it knows its gonna win,.
You're leaving me All of us Taking off Making a fuss About this hell We're all trapped in I know it sucks Don't know where to begin...
No role model. No claim to fame. Just a man and his words. Just a man and his pain. No judgmental thoughts. No hate held inside. Just a man living his life. Just a man waiting to die.
(sorry, this isn't my best, just something I kind of threw together at the time.
Deep scars she hides No war she has seen, These wounds spring forth From thoughts so unclean, They declare her repulsive That she is unfit, So she makes true these words With a knife and a slit.
My mum has loved me forever. From the first inkling of morning sickness. To the pain of full term labour. When I kicked and screamed in the supermarket. When I threw my food on the floor.
#bestofopuss Mister Runaway, Put your gun away. Put your blade, Your noose, Your nothing-fun away. What do you feel. What is real. When life to you Is too surreal. What do you do. Is that quite true.