SpitefulI really dislike spiteful people.People doing things just to get under your skin.People who do things just to make you upset.Purposeful things.Offending you.Provoking.I am the target for nonsense.I am...I am...
Unseen and UnheardDo you ever feel like you are unseen and unheard.Almost as if the world around you does not notice you.Time just passes by without even acknowledging your anguish or exisitence.People treat you like you are a ghost and avoid you.Invisible to the world.Everyone's lives whisk away while you are left dragging around your own pain.But you stay the same.The same person...the same life...the same everything...You just feel the same.Trapped in a time capsule...Life for you is paused in an eternity of repitition...This is life for me everyday.Always the one that is un heard and keeps their opinion to themself.Always left to do what others want but deep down just wants to be free.Sometimes I just want to be alone without the worries of the world surrounding me.I go about my day but do people notice me?I am the blank space on a paper that has already been drawn on.I only stand in the way.So why bother I wonder.Why do I even bother to be nice?Why do I bother to stay here...
ChanceWhen you oust me out of your life...You have not given me enough to time to show how much of a caring or compassionate person I can be.Thus, I am left regretting that I am way too caring.It is not my fault...It is who I am.
HumanI am judged for being misunderstood...I am misunderstood when I am being judged...I am not perfect.I am human.I can make mistakes like anyone else.So why is it that when I mess up...I am heavily chastised and judged for it?No I do not get on DA everyday.I have a life.I have ambitions and goals.I have a focus.I work hard and strive to do my best.I am not making excuses.I am a human.
Like A PearlI hide away in a clam like a pearl...Like a pearl isolated from the harm of the world...My fears of life in the absence.
Social FearWhen I come on here and do not talk or say anything to anyone...Keep in mind that I am not trying to be rude or anything.Half the time I simply do not know what to say...Or I fear that I may say the wrong thing.
VentI do not appreciate being undermined. It is rude and disrespectful.
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I am listening...My words are of no matter to others.Sometimes I feel like I am talking to myself.I feel more comfortable talking to myself anyways,Atleast I know that I am listening...
He only dates broken girls.I will destroy you. I willmake you love mewithout even trying;you’ll love the scabson my knees, the bruisesunder my eyes, mysinged hair. You will lovethe rush of holdingmy hand as we crossthe bridge; you’ll feellike a hero each timeI don’t jump. You will buyme chocolates, the mostexpensive, to guilt meinto eating. You will buyme seeds instead of flowers,to give me a reason toget up in the morning. Youwill make me dependent,even as I feed your whiteknight complex. I will destroymyself, and so you,and you will know why storms are named after people.
ReflectionI want to sprinkle a piece of meInto bit-code hoping it sticks.But no one cares about the truthUnless it's funny.And I've lost sight Of what that is;I've been taught that it's all relative.We're all irrelevant in the endAnd so, the fire that use to burn in my heartIs all Charcoal. And I've been tryingTo see with no eyes; to drive withNo direction.But now I know I want to meltTogether people's 90 degree angles,Until the world knows everyone's rights.I want to melt together the distanceThat separates prose and poetry;Fact and Fiction; light and darkness.
Dead or alive?I feel numbAnd coldIs this death?Or am I still alive?If I'm aliveI shouldn't beBecause death is betterThan this cursed lifeTo dieTo sleepNo more
While You Were SleepingWhile you were sleepingCells clusteredto whisper about you jealouslyin their tiny little chain gangbefore poppingpoppoppoppoppop -bigger, badder, better.While you were sleepingThey cementedtheir undying bond of friendshipand every face hardenedbefore poppingpoppoppoppoppop -sadder, snider, solid.While you were sleepingconspiracies rose and fellwith your breathand They rustled with laughterbefore poppingpoppoppoppoppop -more, malicious, mayhem.While you were sleepingCancer shoved over other kidsin the playgroundand took their placebefore poppingpoppoppoppoppop -suddenly, so, scared.While you were sleepingyou were overrunand we can fight it, of course,with artilleries in the arteriespoppingpoppoppoppoppop -we'll, wield, weaponsbut while you were sleepingthey took a misered,bleak,first victory;poppingpoppoppoppoppop -into tumultous, tumourtuous, laughteras you lay undefendedand they captured your heart.
The Horror StoryMy horror should turn to grit that chokes the rusting cogs of passing breaths.It should sneak into crevice and corner until each pirouette of a clock hand crunchesa desperate death rattle into the mid-December hysteria. It should.I want my terror to ooze into the machinery of existence and permeate the iron.I want it to coat, and coax wheels off their axels as my mind spins out of control.The whole world should grind it's internal organs like black pepper. To a halt.The stars should feel the chill of my desperation and slide sluggishly down the sides of the skydripping burning nitrous into our eyes that in turn melt out of their sockets.I want every subatomic particle of life itself to suddenly stop, mid sentence.This is the way the world should fall apart.This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.Not with a bang but with a resolutely maternal voice, strong as gravity, growling "Cancer."I want the world so still that I will see the traces of the dead le
Ignorant WisdomThe best of us die youngWhy?We are blood and bodyMind and muddled matterThat decays from the very airNecessary like an addictionOur eyes are skin and sinewSenses intaking a surfaceBut to the machine of faultsWhat is there lost to us?The best of us are of willAs what will be passed beliefThe demanding of subconsciousEdicts of the soulThen why do they die?Why must a will be severedWhen it drives our existenceAll that there isAnd will ever represent us?Why do vessels feed the muscle?Bones hold up our legsAnd a head with strong neckThat its aspirations rise?The best of us accomplishTasks of a higher calibreLike a barrel of the cannonOne volley into the starsThey undertake with all motiveAnd lose the unwinnable conditionFor through their demarcationRevitalize our weak heartsThe best of us die youngWhy?Because they are not usAnd remind us what we should beThrough the greatest leagueOf history's lessonsThey sacrifice their chance to liveAs watcher of the
True Fact #113I really despise copycats. I really do. There is not a single word alone that can possibly express how much it annoys the living hell out of me. It's not cute or adorable or inspiring. It is hella annoying.