The InkwellWhat is it?
But how could I explain.
How does one tell others
what it's like to go insane?
I sit in my thoughts, and drown in my head
the gray world I dwell says I'm already dead
It starts at your finger,
but maybe your tongue.
a big black splotch- where had my skin gone?
I waved it in front of my father-
told him to help me, I said
"Won't you get it off, why won't it come off
I've washed it and popped pills and done all I can
but this blotch just won't come off."
so he took me to the hospital,
but not because of the spots
he took me because I'm crazy,
because he said
"there's nothing there at all."
So I look in the mirror and see them
crawling up my skin.
I can just feel them in the back of my head
telling me to sin.
And they spread so fast and only I see
what they're doing to me.
To everyone else I'm just like them
just a human being.
The more I try to get them off the more they just come back.
They all weigh a hundred pounds,
I can't carry them all around.
Heavier and heavier
You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...You'll Never Understand...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
Gun Within The MirrorIt feels as if my reflectionGun Within The Mirror2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Points a gun at its own head,
As my bullet shoots the mirror
And paints the floor with red,
And it feels as if my gun
Just isn't steady in my hand,
Because darling, when I jump off cliffs,
Do you think I always land?
It feels as if the razor blade
Might be my only friend,
And it feels as if the broken glass
Might soon begin to bend,
Because my reflection is distorted, love.
Can't you see that, love, can't you see?
I'm pointing a gun at the mirror,
And the mirror points back at me.
Am I Good Enough...?Legs crossed on a cold basement floor,Am I Good Enough...?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Blood stains painting my flesh,
The wounds deeper than ever before,
A white gown now a short black dress.
Long tangled hair clinging to my tears
Wind howling through the trees,
Moonlight painting a sky so clear,
And darling, I'm going to be set free.
My fingers scratch at the blood on my skin,
A delightful pain at the thought of a touch,
And hey, everyone who said I wasn't worth it,
Now am I good enough?
A lion among sheep.There are ghosts in my bloodstreamA lion among sheep.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
kissing concrete cells &
the bedroom eyes of nerve endings.
( foreign words
engraved into my marrow, birds in my chest
& wars not yet fought between my hips. )
I've taken myself apart every night
since I learned how to swallow a pen
limb by steady limb.
Passed around by grabby hands,
a sold, & borrowed daughter;
I am a lion among sheep,
drunk on life & ink.
Are You?I'm sorry,Are You?3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that I'm not
I'm not a supermodel.
that I'm not
I'm not a comedian.
that I'm not
that I'm not
that I'm not
I'm not perfect.
I am a labelI slid the blade across my wristI am a label3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Again and again.
Maybe I’m an emotional freak.
I cause fights and arguments
Maybe I’m a troublemaker.
I use make up to make myself seem
Maybe I’m girly.
I complain about things
Even when sometimes
Maybe I’m an attention seeker.
I fall under so many
So maybe I am a label.
I’m just me.
Sick of societyI may live inside my own, twisted universeSick of society3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I may change, sometimes for the worst.
What's normal to me is not normal for you.
Sometimes I just do what I need to do.
Behind a brick wall, I hoped someone would break it
I threw out my heart hoping someone would take it.
But I got tired of hiding and tired of hating
And instead of throwing myself at every guy, I'm waiting.
I'm sick of the person I tried to be
So basically, here I am, I will be me
I'm sick of the hatred, would you not agree?
.. Basically I'm sick of society.
And Daddy always lied.My legs are covered in bruisesAnd Daddy always lied.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I have a scar by my left eye.
I’m not allowed to smile, though
And I’m not allowed to cry.
I think my right arm’s broken
But shh, don’t tell my dad.
He doesn’t like to worry bout me
When he’s already mad.
I have a burn on my left wrist
From when he pushed my arm
Against the stove, the hot, hot stove
And did a bit of harm.
I have a bear, a teddy bear.
He doesn’t have a name.
He makes me better every time
I’m feeling hurt and shame.
Today, my dad came home kind of late
A beer still in his hand.
I closed my eyes and waited.
He screamed, he shouted, and…
Well, my name is Mary Starr
And this is how I died.
But daddy always loved me.
And daddy always lied.
When I SaidWhen I said I wanted a fairy taleWhen I Said3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I meant I wanted a prince.
I didn't want to be locked in a
I didn't want to be fought by a
I didn't want
When I said I wanted a fairy tale
I meant I wanted to be a princess.
I didn't want to watch a rose
I didn't want to wear the gown
I wanted it
When I said I wanted a fairy tale...
I expected it to end in a
But i never expected it to end like this.
No Longer a Little GirlDear imagination, can't you be the thing you wereNo Longer a Little Girl3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Butterflies and daffodils and happiness so pure
Sunny skies and lullabies and dreams of what could be
Hidden worlds and wonderlands of things they couldn't see
Shining gowns and silver crowns for dancing with the prince
Twirling with excitement, though the others weren't convinced
Dear intimidation, did you find it to be true
All I ever needed was an overdose of you
Silly stares and laughter slowly flood a child's mind
Making me abandon every daydream I could find
Lost beneath the shadows of the sky so dark and dead
Far too weak to turn around, yet scared of things ahead
Dear destructive tendencies, I feel it's time to hear
You were all I had when nothing else seemed to be near
Everything so out of reach, too far for me to see
I decided I would choose the needle next to me
Slicing through my very skin to feel something once more
Weeping through the satisfaction I could not ignore
Dear imagination, can't you be the thing you were?
The Truth Hurts, Doesn't It?Everyone has a secret.The Truth Hurts, Doesn't It?5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Its the razor blade under their pillow.
The end of a toothbrush covered in bile,
Even a loaded gun stashed in your closet that was somehow 'misplaced'.
Its only the name of a crush scribbled over and over on a crumpled piece of paper,
The quiet whispers of where you snuck out to last night.
How you really passed that test.
Its the innocent sayings that hurt the most,
Pent up emotion that cuts the deepest
Your kin by blood that deal the killing blows.
Yet you continue to let them close enough to see the pain in your eyes,
Under the false hopes that instead of pushing you away,
They would accept you for what you are.
A monster of your own creation.
Don't try to change a creature of habit,
Never trust the wind to break your fall,
Promise you won't hide from something that is truly blind to reality.
Each person shouldn't have to change their ways
In order to be accepted by a society
Which stores their own s
That Gay Boy Sitting Next To YouLook at the gay boy sitting next to you,That Gay Boy Sitting Next To You2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the one who you kick, physically torture and verbally abuse.
Look at his eyes that were once vibrant with life,
and keep in mind that you and your friend's were the one who stole his light.
You called him a sin and condemned him to hell,
every day he walked through the school doors, he was greeted with your intolerant yells.
With your injustice , you treated him as terribly as you pleased,
and when you were through with your torment, you treated him like some sort of disease.
Was religion your actual excuse to act like an ass,
or was there something that you refused to see past?
Because that gay boy who sits next you daily in class,
is the one who knows your present, future and past.
He knows where bullies come from, so don't hide fully behind Christianity.
Because when you go home, you yourself are showered with profanities.
The same fist you used to beat the blue eyed boy,
is the same fist that your father uses to wring around your neck
If you are a victim...If you have ever faked a smileIf you are a victim...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Slit your wrist
Cried yourself to sleep
Wished yourself gone
Chased a dream (and lost it)
Ended up in a nightmare…
Turned away from your “friends”
Tortured yourself over an error
If you are a victim…
Remember to stay strong.
Because you’re only a survivor
Poor Man's GoldHush the youngest children, for the demon in the skiesPoor Man's Gold3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Treasuring the very thought of anyone's demise
Glitter fades to black and shining moonlight fades to dust
Every cruel man's wonderland is built of poor man's trust
Tragic, empty melodies and blood beneath the air
Fearlessly escape the wind and drown without a care
Treasure death as platinum, as silver and as gold
Every cruel man's wonderland is built of poor man's gold...
ExistenceTwigs scraping viciously at open woundsExistence3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Stabbing my flesh as I quickly sprint through
A forest so dark, and so cold, and so thick
My heart has been shattered, it’s making me sick
Ripped dirty clothing and blood in my eyes
No one is near to hear my fatal cries
Battling words while I’m battling fists...
How do you fight what just doesn’t exist?
DisappearSometimes, when I'm sadDisappear2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I remember that one time,
All I had to worry about was
If the bubbles I had blown, were about to
Sometimes, when I'm sad
I remember that one time,
I began to worry about the day that
My childhood would simply
Sometimes, when I'm sad
I remember that some day,
When I'm sitting with my husband
In the old old house... my days will simply
And that day,
The day when my heartbeat is
The day when my breath
Truly gets taken away.
That's the day
When my worries, my concerns, my fears...
One special personEveryone leaves you.One special person3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Everyone gives up.
Everyone stops loving you, and stops believing in you, and stops caring about you.
Everyone will say something to hurt you.
Everyone will eventually agree with you when you say “I feel worthless”.
And everyone will eventually say something about you.
And everyone will hurt you intentionally.
Everyone leaves you.
And everyone gives up.
But one person, one special person
Will never leave you.
Will never give up on you.
Will never stop loving you, and never stop believing in you, and never stop caring about you.
Never say anything to hurt you.
Never let you say “I feel worthless”, because with them, you won’t.
Never say or listen to anything bad about you.
And never hurt you.
Never leave you.
Lose MyselfI'm aching,Lose Myself2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
trying so hard
to watch the world spin
without my sanity beginning to spin
struggling to see my beauty
without basing it
off my own
Perhaps I've built myself
a complex puzzle,
and simply lost
too many pieces.
I made my life a battle
knowing I could never
I'd rather lose myself
I used to fear shadows,
I wish to be one.
I used to fear my disappearance,
now I want to be gone.
Trying so hard to watch the
RepaintRepaint’Repaint7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I painted my four bedroom walls
In bright colorful hues.
Of pink and pale blues.
The sunlight lit up the room
And eradicated the demons hidden
In the shadows.
And for a while that seemed to work,
I made paint out of everything I loved.
It chased away the deadly lows,
I used words from our conversations
The way your voice sounded like fire crackers.
Exciting and beautiful.
I made paint from the hope
That I’d never have to see night again.
Because I had you.
Because you were fireworks,
And fireworks are colorful and they light up the dark.
They chase away the suffocating loneliness,
Of the night sky.
And replace it with fond memories of The Fourth of July.
But even fireworks turn to smoke,
And begin to blend with the night.
You got lost among the stars,
And I got stuck on the ground far below.
I am starting to run out of conversations
To make paint out of.
There are no more pale yellows made from sweet,
Bright, vibrant pinks
EvidenceI can see how you'd missEvidence5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The blood stains on the towel
Because they're very faint
I can see how you'd miss
The way I hesitate when picking up a knife
Because I try to do it very subtly
I can even see how you'd miss
The scars on my arms
Because I always wear long sleeves
But how can you miss
The fact that when I get home
I go upstairs and cry?
How can you miss my panic attacks?
My sleepless nights?
The fact that I'm never happy?
The evidence is all there in front of you
All you have to do
there's mildew on the grass.i count my ribs as i count the pills,there's mildew on the grass.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
one bone per bottle.
i counted your phone calls as i counted the stars
in a cloudy morning sky.
i was dying, and you were too scared to care.
I'd Rather Die AloneSo this is it? Isn't it? I'm to die in this room alone?I'd Rather Die Alone1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
With the cold table underneath me colder than nitrogen ice,
and the blaring AC bearing down upon me like a sinners vice?
Though my arm has been torn off, and tossed beside my head,
or my leg has been twisted, and my insides scorched dead,
I'm somewhat thankful my mother asked for my nerves to be cut dead.
That way I cannot experience the full force of the pain that's blaring within.
Occasionally, a woman walks in, looks down and says, “I think it's still alive.”
When was I an it, even while dismembered, I’m struggling before her very eyes.
Behind her comes the doctor, with a scalpel in his hands,
“His mother wanted him dead anyway, killing him more won't make a difference.”
The nurse nods and ask, “Should I get more absorbic acid?”
The doctor shakes his head and levels his scalpel, “His head is softer than plastic.”
And with his death-sentence, he drops his arm, and the metal p