Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login

Similar Deviations
Daddy, please don't touch me.
It doesn't feel good.
It makes me feel..
Naughty.

Daddy, please don't hit me.
I didn't mean to disappoint you.
When you hit me, it makes me feel...
Bad.

Daddy, please don't hurt her.
Mommy didn't do anything.
When you hit her, it makes me feel..
Mad.

Daddy, please don't say you love me.
I know you're lying.
When you say you still want me, it makes me feel...
Sad.

Daddy, please stop screaming at her.
You already killed her.
When you scream at her, it makes me feel..
Angry.

Daddy, stay there.
Let me sink the knife into your throat.
When you bleed, it makes me feel..
Alive.

Daddy, aren't you happy now?
As you lie there, lifeless.
I'm only following your footsteps.
This makes me feel...
Happy.

Daddy, please listen.
I know you can't hear me, but...
I still love you.

The same way you always loved me.

And it makes me feel...

Good, Daddy.
It makes me feel..
Good.
I don't really like this one. But I decided to post it since it's one of my poems that ISN'T about labels or stereotypes =P
Comments and critiques?
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

Shh.
They're listening.
Look behind you.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
In again.
Faster.
Faster.
Stop.
"Are you okay?"
I'm dying.
"I'm fine."

Shapes, forms, bodies, animals, plants
Shifting, moving, being
Watching
Staring.
"What's wrong with you?"
Everything.
"Nothing."

Freak.
You're a freak.
No one wants you.
You should kill yourself, let them out of their misery
Do it
Quick.
Now.
Or we'll do the job for you.

"You're crazy."
I know.
"They're fake, you know."
No they're not.
"What are you doing?"
I'm shaking.
I'm dying.
This is how I live.

Save me
Save me, from the monsters, the shadows
Save me

"What can I do?"
You can stop.
You can stop being ignorant
Evil
Cruel.

..."Nothing."
<3 i'm so sorry if it's inaccurate.. I really do apologize...
please comment and critique! :)
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

My mind
just can't
seem to

s h u t   u p.

Too many "fuck you's"
that morph into
"I'm sorry's"
drip off this
dagger-tongue
like acid.

Monster.
Grotesque.
Liar.
Erratic.

Try and make it better. Fail. Try again. Break down.

So many faults
that seem to just
turn me into someone
I'm not.

Look into the mirror. See nothing but a clone. Fabrication. No longer me.

I stare and want
to break that glass
so that I can also
b r e a k.

Try and say something. Turns into nothing but rage. Take it out on you.

This shattered heart
only wants to make it
better
and become one again.

"I want to hate you."
"But I can't."
"So I hate me instead."
"But why won't this stop?"
"Why can't you make it stop?"


Stop.

Breathe.

Think.

"...it's not my fault."

Say what you want to say. Honest brutality.

"H E L P   M E"

No.

It's time for me to

s h u t   u p.

—whisper—



...I'm sorry.
...I'm sorry.
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

My legs are covered in bruises
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.
Speaks for itself.
Just a thought in my head, thought I'd write it down...
Comments? Critiques? All are appreciated :)

Facebook !! : [link]
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

Who are you?
Where are you?
What... are you?

The blinding white walls
Closing in on you
Trapping you
Drowning you.

Who are you?

Certainly not
yourself.
Certainly not that
happy little girl
jumping through fairy tales
as a sunset paints the silver sky.

Where are you?
Certainly not
home.
Definitely not where
you'd want to be.

What are you?
Certainly not
wanted.
Obviously not
needed.

Blood, scars, wounds.
Pain.
Torture.

All you see are shadows
In a room of white walls...
inspired by [link]
mine is not exactly an original version of it, but it's something. :)

comments and critiques?
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

I used to think make up
Made people ugly.
Now I think I'm ugly without it.

I used to think people
Always loved me.
Now I think everyone hates me.

I used to think everybody
Was my best friend.
Now I think no one truly is.

I used to think
Boys were icky!
Now I wish I had one.

What happened to being
Happy?
I don't like the ending :iconblahplz:


NOOO. :iconomg--plz:


HELP.
Okay please comment and stuff! <3
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

Slide the blade across your wrist.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Stop.
"Doesn't it hurt?"
I can't feel anything.
"A little."

Punch your own stomach.
Harder.
Harder.
Does it hurt yet?
Yes.
Keep going.
"Why do you do that?"
The pain makes me feel alive.
"I don't know."

Stare.
Cry.
Scream.
Stop.
Keep staring.
"What's wrong with you?"
I'm dead inside.
"Nothing."

"Emotional freak."
I'm just depressed.
"Sorry."

Stare at your arms.
Your stomach.
Your waist.
Your thighs.
"What are you doing?"
I'm ugly.
"Never mind."

"Attention seeker."
I just have low self esteem.
"I'm sorry."

Cuts.
Scars.
Tears.
Emotions.

"Emo."
"Scene girl."
"Psycho."

I'm just human.

I'm just me.
reposting an old poem of mine. posted it a while back and decided to do it again, this time with over 100 more watchers. :)
comments?
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

"I'm fine" is a dirty lie.

The truth is that I want to die.

 

"I'm tired" is not even done.

It really means "I'm tired of being no one"

 

"I'm better" is but a curse.

The truth is that I've never been worse

 

"I'm just cold" is what I say

so my sleeves can hide my scars away.

 

"I already ate" is said with a frown.

I starve to see the numbers on the scale go down.

 

"I'm okay" is probably the worst.

It really means I'm about to burst.

 

All these things are lies to me.

But you take this as the truth because what else would I be?

 

 

Well... this is another poem for my feels about depression, self harm, etc. I know that there are many poems and drawings on DA to support people with depression and bring awareness, and mine will not help, but i just feel so strongly about it since ive had a friend confess his depression to me. so heres another one :) to all those peopel struggling out there, you are not alone and i think your awesome <3
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

I slid the blade across my wrist
Once
Twice
Again and again.

Maybe I’m an emotional freak.

I cause fights and arguments
Over
And over
Again.

Maybe I’m a troublemaker.

I use make up to make myself seem
Better
And…
Prettier.

Maybe I’m girly.

I complain about things
Even when sometimes
They’re not
That
Bad.

Maybe I’m an attention seeker.

I fall under so many
Stereotypes.

So maybe I am a label.

Or maybe
I’m just me.
Maybe?

Comments please, and critiques :)
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.

I am thirteen years old.
I am not typical.
I am not average.
I am me.

I have been in two mental facilities.
Both times for thoughts of suicide.
I am not emo.
I am not a freak.
I am me.

My mother attempted suicide about six months ago.
My sister attempted suicide when i was eight.
But, I am not a victim.
I am not tortured.
I am me.

My father had a heart attack just over a week ago.
He was hospitalized for nine days.
He recently returned to the hospital for kidney problems.
I suffer from Bipolar Disorder with Psychotic Features.
I have hallucinations.
I have delusions.
But I am not a disorder.
I am not my difficulties.
I am not my troubles.

I am me.
:) this is me. Who are you?
Show
Add a Comment:
 
No comments have been added yet.