InsanityThe sky is purpleThe sea is redMy dog is a dragonMy brother a demonA creature perchesOn my shoulderAnd whispersEvil deedsHe tells me to dump the oilAnd light the matchCut the ropeAnd watch the chandelier dropBlood seeps from the wallsScreams echo in the darkThe moon calls to meIn a sweet lullabyOf insanity
feyThe wind whispers to mein hushed tonesThe trees rustleand tell me their talesThe sunlight fills mewith warmth and wonderThe shadows reach for mecraving lust and destructionThe sea sharesits sorrows with meThis is who i am, feyMy world, that of Faerie
Faeriethe windin my haircool waterlapping againstmy bare feetthe warmthof the suncaressing my skinthis is my worldthe world ofFaeriewill you come awaywith me?will you be myother half?balance my worldbe the calm againstthe stormthe moonlighti revel inthe fire thatkeeps the dark at baymy love,come with meto Faerie
Mine?I ask forForeverAnd You sayYou willAlwaysBe thereButThe distanceScares meThe timeUnravels meWhen we areTogether againWill you stillBe mine?
My WorldWhen I'm with youEverything fades awayYou make me feel aliveI want you all the timeWhen you're goneI feel emptyColdLostDeadBut, when I'm with youThe world comes aliveThe colors are brighterThe sounds clearerThe tastes sweeterYou are my strengthMy stability, my everythingYou are my world
melt downmy lifetornmy heartshatteredmy head isa mess ofconfusioni don't knowwhat to docan you tell mewhat to doim in themiddle ofa mentalbreak downoh yesim havinga melt down
RELIEFThe biteof thebladeThe stingof thepainThe flowof thebloodreliefsosweet
Hopedarkso darki runand irunwhere isthe lightthe wallsare closing inhopelessand alonein thedarka smilein thenighta warmthin thecoldyour handheld outto memyshininghope
ESCAPElostin amaze ofinsanityrunningthroughempty roomsand burningforestssearchingalwayssearchingfor anescape
Depression is an OptionDepression is a choice, my dear,And happiness the sameYou choose this illness, don’t you?What a tragic little game.Depression is an option, loveJust get up out of bedTake your tears and worriesAnd just smile now instead.Depression is a choice, you see,And so is suicide.Just sit back, kick your feet up, dearEnjoy this perfect ride.Get over your own standardsOf what everyone should be.Just smile for once, and maybeYou’ll be living perfectly....But...Depression is an illnessThat we feel so deep within.Why would anybody chooseTo write poetry on their skin?Unless there lies a reason, dear,I would not choose to die.If depression was an option...Well...I’d choose to say goodbye.
GayI am gay.I'm not a disease, I'm not a problemI'm not an afflictionI don't need treatment.I don't need helpI'm not sickI'm not confusedI'm not a sin.I am gay.I'm your daughterYour sisterYour friendYour co workerYour classmateYour acquaintanceA complete strangerI am gay.I need love, just like youI need smilesI need supportI need a hugI need a friendI need a familyI need acceptanceI need understandingI need youI am gay.I know what love isI know what pain isI know what hate isI know what life isI am gay.And I need you to love meThe same way you loved me before you knewI am gay.And I have experienced hateFrom more people than just youI am gay.And I wont change.I wont give up.I wont back down.I wont pretend.I wont lie.I wont deny.I wont hide.I wont hurt.I am gay.And that's okay.
HetaliaxDepressed!Reader:Self-Inflicted AchromaticHetalia x Scary! Depressed! Reader: Self-Inflicted AchromaticI want to be a person just like you, don't you see?I want to be a person who is still being "me"A tired sigh escaped your lips. You were just so damn tired. The other countries said that you, (f/n) or (c/n), was scarier than Russia himself. But of course, you have lived 2500 years with wars and bloodshed always trailing after you. You just really want to be happy. But all those wars and blood imprinted on your mind, you really just released off a dark (a/c) aura and a stoic atmosphere.It really would be nice but I'm paying a price'Cause I'd really, not be me and that would not sufficeYou asked yourself, "I know my face doesn't show my pain. But isn't it obvious in my eyes? I'm lonely and hurt" You rubbed your numb (s/c) wrist, yesterday's cuts still had a colorless ache to it. You picked your silver knife, twirling it around watching the others argue. The said knife is the one you also use to cut yourself.A dream which
you're much stronger than you thinkI'll be the first to tell youscissors don't need to be brought to a wristto cut deepbecause cutting off your heart from you head,or yourself from your dreams,is also enoughto make you bleedand there's ink spilled all over these pages,and at times it seems tearsare cheaper than water from a spout:these lines need diluted,these blots are a dark, dark seaand maybe I'm not too good at swimming,even if it's just through a pool of inkbut I've learned if you just keep paddling,you're much stronger than you think.
The Hero With Headphones The hero with headphones. He has walked a long, lonely road. He has lost his dad and that is never easy. He has loved deeply and lost almost all. He has almost ten million fans whoare striving to do good for thosearound them. To be the force for good. The light in the dark to those in need. Each of them look up to the hero in headphones,no matter how much of a goober he is. He wears a Warfstache and carries a tiny box named Tim. He plays video games and records himself screaming in terror as monsters fill the screen. He commits to charity work for those in need. Always humble. Always helping. He is OUR hero in headphones. Who is this hero you may wonder?He is the kind of guy people look up to. He is the leader of a force for good. He is kind, courageous, and loving. He is the hero in headphones..His name will be passed on for generations. His videos will be shared continuous
For My PeopleAs far as I can recall:I did not ask to be birthedInto a cycle of stagnation.I did not ask to be told,That my dreams are achievable;Only to see them limited by the scope of reality.I did not ask for a failing system,Passed unto me by half-dead corpses wearing suits.Nodding eagerly at one another,As they wait for an inevitable death.This I did not ask for,And I am certain that most of you did not either.But it is for that reason,And for that reason alone, I say:That it is up to us,We siblings bound by the chains of our forefathers,To create a system that is better,Than the bitter shackles of the past.Justice is what I long for.Justice for MY people.
An Angel's Promise'Thou art mine,And so thou shall remain.'I will not let you have any other before me, Nor can there be any after.For it is your soul that I have shared And it is your soul that I do take.Your worship is the blood that flows through me.Your praise is the heart that pumps life into my veins.I have accepted that which is torn;And if you are not whole before me,Then by my will and word,You shall be made whole.So fear not this frigid world,Though its cold bites deeply into your flesh.I shall take that which has been torn from youAnd weep life into it,Until only warmth remains.For thou art already mine,And so thou shall remain.
an open letter to my twelve year old selfone day you will cut all your hair off,and hang up a map of the world in yourroom and you will look at it on daysyou think your life is going nowhere.i hate to tell you this, but this isn’tyour worst year. it also isn’t yourbest.one day you will cut all your hair offand realize that some poems need to be readout loud, to an audience, so you’ll take a hammerand some nails and build yourself oneout of a girl whose veins look fragile butwhose bones are strong, a boy who isn’t as tall ashe thinks he is, but whose lifelines are the deepestyou’ve ever seen, and a girl whose eyes remind you of theeast coast shore.one day you will cut all your hair off,and learn that you can like pinkjust as much as you like blueand the world will not fall apartalong its fault lines. there are other flagsyou can wave with pride thataren’t American.one day you will cut all your hair offand figure out how to forgive yourself,figure out how to sta
There is no beauty in love.Love isn't beautiful.Love isn't lilacs and roses and chocolate truffles of every flavor.It isn't for the weak, nor is it for those unable to support themselves.Love isn't finding someone to complete you.Love isn't finding money on the street.Love isn't trendy nor sexy nor fun.It's about as thrilling as a car crash.Love is a virus.It crawls inside you like a parasite, sucks on your soul like a sadistic disease.It warps your desires and twists your thoughts until you depend upon it, need it, thrive on it.Without it, you lose yourself bit by bit to your addiction as if it were nicotine wrapped in white, lit and smoking.Without it, you can no longer breathe.Without it, you stay awake all through the long and lonely nights, hoping and praying that one day you'll be good enough. Love brings lies and tears and depression and sadness.Love brings jealousy.Love brings lust.Lust that'll eat you up as if it were a ravenous, drunken lover.More, it'll say.And more you'll
fallingfallingfallingfallingdeeperanddeepereverythinggoes blackcold tendrilsof fog creeparound methe darkoblivionconsumes mei let goand falla silent cryescapes my lipsi reach outmy handand hopeyou willcatch mebefore i'mlost