I Tear My Skin AwayI Tear My Skin AwayI Tear My Skin Away by WordOfChen
I tear this skin from my body,
Even if the world screams,
That I am only an illusion.
I tear the bones from my legs,
Through pain, I will grow,
Through suffering, I will become.
I rip the muscles from my arms,
These teeth from my jaws...
And with nothing upon me,
I carry on...
Like a broken puppet, still shivering,
Still forcing its way through the darkness;
I tremble for I am nothing...
And yet, I am moving. My voice still screams...
I draw breath into these tired lungs,
As I rip the flesh away...
And I shatter these mirrors before me,
With a voice that will not break:
Because the world cannot label me as nothing,
And I will live for my own sake!
"So tell me, is that all the pain you've got for me?"
1500 Points Raffle 1500 Points raffle1500 Points Raffle by kittysophie
How to join
just fave this journal
The raffle will end in 2 days
IowaIf you visit Iowa,Iowa by GetYourGrip
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
To depression, for creating days without endWake up to the realization that you've been awakeTo depression, for creating days without end by Melpyra
for seconds, minutes, hours.
You've been awake in this warm, dark room
and you don't know how long it's been
but now you're conscious
and it starts again--
the pain, strong and steady, in your chest.
You gain consciousness in this too warm morning
and your thoughts whir in endless loops
because it's either that or face the weight in your chest.
Light breaks though the window, soft and unwelcome
but you take it as a reluctant gift--
a new distraction from the feelings awake in your chest.
Awake, but not conscious.
So you think yourself in circles a little while longer
waiting for those quiet pains
(the constant reminder)
to gain consciousness.