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Evie Apr 2018
days like these i hate having mirrors around the house
i think about breaking them and slicing
but instead i look
and scream against the body i have been posessing for 20 years
but tell me who would want to leave their home
maybe i should for once
leave
just like everyone else does it
its probably not that hard
there is snot on the bathroom mirror
i wipe it clean
today is not for the living
Pedro Batista Apr 2018
Floating slowly in space
Watching Earth from a million miles away
Waiting for the air to just fade
And all I can think is if she is okay

A fearful smile overtakes my face
As fear overcomes the pain
The less I care where I stay
All I want is for her to be okay

I hope she ain´t feeling the same
Cause this pain is making me insane
All I want is for her to enjoy her day
To smile and wave on a warm summer day

I hope I have told you everything you deserve
And even if so ill regret not saying more
I will never feel like I told you all
Words can't describe what truly is love

Please don't cry as I float away
All I want is for you to be okay
It's what pushes me through the day
Back on Earth or here in space
The feeling will always be the same
No matter how many miles away

Is this what love feels like
Even as the air runs dry and the fear goes wild
All I can think is about her smile
An astronaut lost in space, saying a final farewell to his love back in Earth
Caitie Apr 2018
For as long as I can remember
I've been trapped within a world where my soul does not belong.
I've been seeing black and white amongst sceneries full of color
and I can't stand knowing I am not valuing anything
I am surrounded by.
Messages spit left and right telling me to open my eyes and see the light of day, but I'm not even sure I know what to look for.
And when did it become okay to not value your own life?
When did it become normal to feel like the weight of the world sits on your shoulders and your feet stand concrete in the ground with every inability to make any movement?
If I've ever been given any opportunity to make myself happy, I've lost the ability to stray from the path and experience the things that I once loved.
Now the absence of my healthy state of mind has taught me to be dependent on substances that make each day more and more bearable while I wither away into something I thought I'd want to be.
The days I've spent hoping for a change have made me realize nothing other than the fact that I have no place in this world amongst people who are thriving.
My hands will never be clean but I will still carry this burden and drag it through the hell I call my existence.
Cecilie Andersen Apr 2018
I am fighting for my life, gasping for thick air, but he is like a prison. He locks me behind his walls and he is keeping me tight pulling me closer to his body. I fight to break free, but he is grapping my shirt and trowing me on the bed so it get's harder for me to stand up before he continues to push me into the duvet that suddenly does not feel so soft and comftorble as it used to. I am drowning between the many layers of heavy fabric and my own skin. My body feels weak, my cheeks warm and my throat is filled with spit. I keep trying to swim to the top of the ocean, but it's like i've got a massive rock tied around my feet. Maybe it's time to let go, let go and just float.
Cecilie Andersen Sep 2017
Jeg kan mærke dine hænder tage fat om min tynde slappe arm. Jeg sparker og slår uden at opnå noget, og et skrig flår i halsen på mig, men det vil ikke ud. Det kan ikke komme ud, for det samler sig bare til spyt i højre mundvig og ligger sig i lag med alle de ord jeg ikke fik sagt.

Nærm dig ikke og hold ikke om mig, for jeg vil ikke have, at du skal høre min vejrtrækken og mine gisp. Jeg vil ikke vise dig, at mit hjerte galoperer og hamrer indtil min krop ryster af rædsel og, at jeg har trykken for ørerne og blod rosende til mine kinder, som bliver varme og farves røde, for ikke engang min angst vil jeg forære dig.

Tåre der ikke får lov til at flyde ud, føles som det grove sandpapir min far plejede at bruge til sine lyse afskårne træstykker. Lader jeg tårerne flyde føles det som det glas han engang kom til at ødelægge i raseri, og alt blev til små, skarpe glasskår i den sølvfarvede-stål-håndvask. Pludselig ved jeg hvordan han havde det dengang, hvor alt gik i flammer og alt spildte over. Jeg skriger under vand og er holdt fast med lænker og ræb, imens sten bliver smidt mod mig. Jeg lukker de tunge øjenlåg ned over mine matte øjne.
TRANSLATED:
Screams
I can feel your hands grasping my thin limp arm. I am kicking and punching without achieving anything and a scream flays in my throat, but it won't get out. It can not get out, because it just accumulates in saliva in the right side of my mouth and lies in pickle with all of the words I did not say.

Don't get close and don't hold me, for I do not want you to hear my breathing and my gasps. I don't want to show you my heart galloping and hammering until my body shakes in horror and that I have oppression in the ears and blood rushing to my cheeks till they get hot and are being colored red, for not even my fear I will give you.

Tears that are not allowed to flow feels like the coarse sandpaper my father used to use for his light cut pieces. If I let the tears flow, it would feel like the glass he once wreaked in anger, and everything turned into small, sharp glass pieces in the silver-colored-steel sink. Suddenly I know how he felt when it all was flaming and everything spilled over. I'm screaming under water and stuck with chains and belch while stones are being thrown at me. I close the heavy eyelids over my matte eyes.
Evie Mar 2018
i hate drinking
i say and keep repeating it
and keep meaning it
because i hate it
im not in the wrong here
its just the timing
that unholy hour and the weather
my heart with the holes
home for the worms
that made it their place
safe space
sometimes you just gotta drink
because if you don't the worms will come out
and you will feel a terrible itch
your mouth will slowly drop at the corners
and without realizing
fire thoughts will start shooting
and will **** your mom
my head is burning
Pineapples Sep 2017
I am the abandoned cigarette **** disposed of in the damp gutter.........the life of me has been ******,drawn and blown out of existence.
Elliott Jun 2017
I don’t want to die anymore,
I just don’t know how to exist.
Why hello my dear friend

Darkness, you’ve paid me
Another visit.
Oh god
The tricks of the self:
to confuse and divide, ensnare and impair,
to turn the head on the tail.
Leaving us all chasing circles,
lashing out at phantoms and grasping for dreams.
Living our life's through fiction.
Against the real, it seems we rail.
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