AntibioticsLove is a nine to five grind.Antibiotics3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Overrated for minimum wage.
You can't distinguish the difference
your jealousy and your rage.
No strings attached.
It just isn't enough.
You're a stranger or a friend.
Or an eventual product of lust.
Romance is a smudged concept.
And all you're looking for is
But what he feels for you
lives beneath the eye of a microscope.
it all feels so impersonal.
Still you keep finding yourself
at his door.
You're shockingly cavalier.
But you can't seem to find
the humor in it anymore.
You're just a convenient
You cure the woes of his heartache.
A charity fucking fingerbang.
Disillusioned by history and heartbreak...
The guilt and shame are unnecessary
when you've got someone
locked in your sights.
But, oh, if only she knew...
what he alludes to in dim lights...
And now your veins are filled with ice water.
You can taste him on your tongue.
it's oddly exhilarating
to watch it all come undone.
Because part of you likes
Mutilation Across the NationI did not, you see want to kill myself. Not at the time anyway. But I wanted to know that if need be, if the desperation got so terribly bad, I could inflict harm on my body. And I could. Knowing this gave me a sense of peace and power, so I started cutting up my legs all the time. Hiding the scars from my mother became a sport of its own. I collected razor blades, I bought a swiss army knife. I became fascinated with the different kinds of sharp edges and the different cutting sensations they produced. (Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation)Mutilation Across the Nation6 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
As revealed throughout studies, most forms of self-mutilation are not, in fact performed with suicidal intent. Due to emotional imbalances and the effects of society, self-injurious behavior has become a rising epidemic in America. Without alternative management methods and/or counseling, this problem can lead to severe emotional and physical damage, as well as the possibility of parasuicide.
Self-abuse in the United Stat
D I R TIm engorged by all this ugliness.D I R T6 years ago in Scraps More Like This
I've never felt so empty inside.
Without you beside me,
My imperfections come alive.
Im not the person I thought I was.
My great veneer is flawed.
I dont know who I am anymore.
A loveless manipulator or a broken fraud.
It seems now Im defined by you.
Seems I was only meant to hurt.
I shouldnt expect you to love me.
After all, Im only dirt.
Jaded.It interferes.Jaded.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And all of these things
that you thought you
had a grasp on.
You promised yourself
over and over again.
That you won't be just like
It's not narcissism
or a superiority complex.
You simply don't understand
your own species.
But behavior is your
Why must we learn the hard way?
In the end you're just
You're a fucking imbecile.
The conscious awareness makes you
sick to your stomach.
Because you know better.
Because you set yourself up
for a happy ending.
You saw the trap
before you stepped in it.
But you didn't know
that it was strategically placed there
to chew up your morals.
So you opened up
your thoracic cavity.
And you exposed the world
to your inner-workings.
Those rusty gears
you should have kept hidden.
And all you have to show for it
is a wound packed with salt.
And all you want is
to drown your sorrows
in someone else's flesh.
to fall victim to emotion
Green Eyed MonsterNever had a perfect body,Green Eyed Monster3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or perfect dream.
Insecure since ten,
starved myself around thirteen.
Always wanted to be noticed,
to be touched,
to be seen.
It's tough growing up
in the ugly preteens.
But still I think about it now,
and I feel just like all the rest.
My reflection brings the tears,
causes tightness in my chest.
Because I'm angry.
I'm a fucking mess.
Crack the mirror one more time,
I couldn't dream of second best.
And I'm caught up in all this sadness.
Caught up in all the shame.
When it comes down to it,
I'm the only one to blame.
Some days were worse than others,
now they feel the same.
I don't know how I got here,
But I wish I never came.
'Cause I've become this green-eyed monster.
I envy and I stare.
It's a force of habit,
second nature to compare.
I wish that I had her stomach,
I want to destroy my body
because it hurts so much to care.
Hunger pangs and bruises,
I'm not a pretty sight.
I just wanted to be some
Cynical.Daily life,Cynical.10 months ago in Scraps More Like This
Who am I?
Who are you?
Sometimes I hate you.
I hate myself too.
Fine lines like knives,
they slice right through.
Not out to make enemies,
but I’m not your friend.
No faith in karma,
no faith in the end.
Steal away my energy,
Holes in my clothes,
patience worn thin.
the cynical child.
Wanna be someone else
every once in a while.
go out in style.
Observe the world,
understand your smile.
Who am I?
Who are you?
Sometimes I hate you.
I hate myself too.
Fine lines like knives,
they slice right through.
Bad in bed.
Snort that line,
Devil on both shoulders,
he sleeps in my head.
I’m not a bad person,
I’m mostly dead.
Article - Blaming the Music.Article - Blaming the Music.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"MARILYN MANSON GOT MY DAUGHTER PREGNANT."
A local Minnesota woman, suffering after finding out about the pregnancy of her young daughter, Tracy Johnston, 16, is now placing the blame on the famous shock-rocker, Marilyn Manson.
Concerned mother, Barbra Lynch, 35, exclaims, Sure, we didnt exactly see eye to eye and I didnt approve of her ways, and maybe I was a little overbearing at times, but I was a great mother.
Our reporter asked Lynch if she had ever talked to her daughter about protected sex and taking precautions. Outraged, she scowled, of course not! I would never promote underage sex! She continued, I tried to teach her ethics, such as dressing properly to attract a man, living to please others, and doing what she is told all crucial to becoming a good housewife and a true woman- but I could never get through to her over that noisy, devil music, adding that, such music is a blatant threat
A Fine Family Brunch...I glanced at the clock, gently tapping my fingers on the table. It was almost eleven-thirty and the main guest was about a half-hour late. It was obvious that my fellow brunch-goers were growing weary of waiting. The men around me appeared antsy and shifty eyed. The clock ticked louder. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck as I glanced over toward the charming Mr. Bundy sitting in the corner. Keeping his cool as he so often did, he silently sipped his brandy and puffed on a cigarette.A Fine Family Brunch...6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Suddenly, the door burst open through the lingering smoke. In walked the man of the hour. Sighs of relief filled the room. I stood up, reaching my hand out.
Charlie, so good to see you again. Glad you could make it
He swept past me, mumbling frantically to himself, looking around.
If youre so curious as to where your family is, I assure you theyll be joining us soon. Please, take a seat.
Looking frazzled and slightly cross-eyed, Mr. Manson finally
Old Patterns.Quietly, she slipped across the hallway, barely lifting her feet with each droning step. She anxiously tugged at the frayed ends of her sleeves, covering her clammy hands. This served as a safety blanket of sorts, concealing the raised scars on her forearms from her oblivious family members. Acting casual, she avoided eye contact. She moped into the next room, cautiously staring downward at the carpet beneath her.Old Patterns.6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The silence thereafter was broken by the sound of a closing door, followed with crashing water. As the faucet flowed, she violently yanked at her ponytail. The binder snapped, entangling tiny hairs and biting at her throbbing fingers. She sucked on her bottom lip, suppressing the temptation to cry. Crouching over, she shook her hand in frustration. She took a deep breath. Hardly sustaining her balance, she carefully peeled off her layers of clothing and heaped them over the edge of the laundry basket in the corner. Twisting and jerking at her bracelets, she took off her jewel
Empty.Show me something betterEmpty.1 year ago in Scraps More Like This
than what I feel inside.
If I can't have the fucking razor blade,
just let me have the high.
My soul claws out of my body,
and leaves my bones behind.
I'm running from the realization
of never feeling alive.
Short Lived.She frequents this parking lot.Short Lived.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The last space.
She sits alone.
Decides to have another cigarette
instead of going home.
The dark make up always smears.
That cheap mascara bleeds.
Suck it up.
Wipe it away.
You gotta own these needs.
But this pull-string gets all twisted
between her vertebrae.
it's awfully hard to talk
when you don't remember what to say.
A selective greedy conscience
and those sputtering short-lived thoughts.
She doesn't wanna know the difference
between what she desires
and what she's got.
'Cause she was left out for too long.
Seen her insides black and rotten.
From the anger
and the heartbreak
and a mouth still full of cotton.
She knows very well
that she shoulda seen this comin'.
It's been a long time anxious.
And a longer time wasted runnin'.
Fruitless, but not shameless.
She still craves to be respected.
A dirty secret is all that she's worth...
Well at least
she has that perfected.
So she turns emotion off
as if there was a switch.
Rainy DayStore me in a boxRainy Day7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
For another rainy day.
Sort through all my things.
Give this and that away.
Keep my photos and my drawings
And the poems youve never seen.
Read through all my writings
My silly thoughts and dreams.
Leave things as they were.
Close my closet door.
And be sure to make my bed
Just as it was before.
Stash me in your memory
Once I've gone away.
Just another box
For another rainy day.
Lost.Im worn down from the hurt</b>Lost.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And Im sick of all the tears.
One single day without you
Becomes a thousand years.
Every minute is torment.
The thoughts eat at my brain.
I focus on the negatives
And the twisting stomach pains.
I can't get you out of my head,
Can't seem to occupy my mind.
I hope that maybe you'll call,
I try to give it more time.
I dont want to get out of bed
Though I know that I wont sleep.
Its hard for me to move.
Its hard for me to eat.
And everything around me,
Its all a reminder of you.
Every song played on the radio,
Each little thing I do.
And the constants in my life,
They all come back to us.
Because I build around you,
Because youre the one that I trust.
Its more than teenage romance,
More than my best friend.
Its my entire world
And I wont just let it end.
Something I Can Never Be.If I had anySomething I Can Never Be.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I wouldn't look
in his direction.
he's all I've ever
He's the object
of my affection.
He is liberation;
Even when he
breaks my heart,
brings me to my knees.
I want to feel safe
in his arms,
I'm reluctant to commit.
I hate how much
I love him,
for fear of things
I can't admit.
he takes me
the pills mean more
the love of his life;
a love that
can never be.
In My Head.Can't seem to find a home anymore.In My Head.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Just sad messy houses.
Now I'm spending my small life
Sleeping on floors or couches.
He gives me aching holes
But it's all synthetic.
Between the smoke
And the degredation.
And the harsh drugged up haze.
Forget. Distract. Ignore.
The miserable melting days.
And all that I can hear..
It's all in my own head.
I try to rewire my brain
But end up damaged instead.
Be different. Better. Be new.
Repress. impress. undress.
I wait for the thoughts to evaporate.
But happiness is just a guess.
I like to smash myself up.
my love life is a punch line.Old habits die hard,my love life is a punch line.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and with him,
it's all so easy.
But once all is said and done,
you're worthless and you're sleazy.
Every time that you give in,
it goes against what you believe.
He rips apart your insides,
'cause you're sullen and naïve.
Self respect is now a punch line.
there goes your self esteem..
Every night you sleep alone.
Men even hurt you in your dreams.
Your heart is under construction,
could use some maintenance up in your head.
No one hears what you have to say,
so you spread your legs instead.
You're a rancid slab of meat to them.
You're just a fucking hole.
Every time they use your body,
they take a little piece of your soul.
You can presume just what will happen,
yet you still pray for a shift in luck.
You think there's feeling behind his touch,
but he still doesn't give a fuck.
So you try to prove that you've changed,
and maybe this time he'll like you more.
Though, he sees you as nothing.
You're an object and a whore.
And you wish you didn't love him,
The Man in Red Plaid.These walls are my friends.The Man in Red Plaid.2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
They know me better than I know myself.
Dark energies surround me.
Cradling me in cold arms.
Thumping like death rattles.
I fester on top of my mattress.
My comfort zone of dead skin cell bed sheets.
Stained with blood,
And the man in red plaid stands in the corner.
Always staring at me.
Like lonesome hallucinations in the night.
Pressing on my chest while I sleep.
He’s the only one who knows my name.
Scar.When I look at myself, I dont like what I see.Scar.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
These scars cover my body. Theyre just a reminder to me.
One as an experiment. One for a death.
One for my sadness. And two for second best.
I do my ankles after my wrists.
Started out with seven, ended up with twenty-six.
Fourteen across my stomach. Nine run down my side.
For every question you asked. For every tear that I cried.
Three on my arm. For this fucking seclusion.
For what keeps me here. For intolerance and confusion.
Words on my legs, carved into my skin.
Simple little thoughts. Representing my sins.
Thirty-one running down my leg. Thirty-one that healed.
Then ninety-four more. Ninety-four just to feel.
And one across my palm, for each and every flaw.
This one was a burn. And this one from a claw.
This is for feeling void. For treating myself like shit.
This is what I deserve. This is what I get.
This is all that I am. All that I've come to know.
Scars for my hate. These scars that show.
A scar for my anger. A scar