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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?
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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]
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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?
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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.
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Her ink-stained lips have kissed too many a forgotten page,

                    [dragon's blood
                                  and phoenix down]


And her Prince Charming has yet to come,

                    [glass slippers
                                   shattering like stars]


So all she can do is gaze out her tower window,

                    [enchanted forests
                                   concealing poisoned apples]


Clutch that corroded and timeworn blade,

                    [cursed beasts
                                   tearing down castle walls]


Toss her childhood fables to the waltzing of the moon,

                    [even broken wings
                                   wish for happily ever afters]


And fly.

                    [once upon a time
                                   there was a girl who became her own hero.]
Just a random ditty that popped in my head.

I quite like how it turned out.

Maybe someday I'll get the courage to be my own hero, too.

Wouldn't it be grand if fairytales could happen like this?

Edit: ...front page for this dumb thing? Thank you very much, but...I don't understand why.
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maybe not.

because i will never be the fire-hearted girl with remedial stardust lips,
dancing with the astral wolves that hunt beneath her moon-kissed skin,
with the courage to plant wilting lilacs into every crippled soul she finds.

but what if they were?

then i would be the ink blots coating the archives of humankind,
the fractured jewel tucked away in a catastrophic dragon's chest,
and the lyric every mismatched bone engraves into their marrow.

if only.
Prompt #30 of *DearPoetry's NaPoWriMo prompt list [link].

Obviously I'm not partaking in NaPoWriMo, but I saw this prompt and thought, "Well. This could be therapeutic."

And so while I'm trying not to dwell on the constant bullshit that I feel I've been doused in, I jotted this pathetic crap down in some semblance to make me feel better.

Have fun deciphering this. Though I think it's pretty damn obvious.
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my body is a road map
of hazard signs
& do-not-touch-me's.

but on the days
when the mirror
is nice to me,
i can hear
whispering voices
like little racing
heartbeats
beneath my skin:

you are not worthless.
you are strong.
your ribcage has a meaning-

these bruises are
con            ons,
   ste     ti       & you are the Milky Way.
        lla  

-dp
Secret:

“Sometimes I like the voices in my head more than myself.”

More can be found here: [link]

Feel free to submit one here: [link] , or here: [link]

Featured: [link]
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I screamed,

"There is nothing
wrong with me, not a damn
thing.”


I wanted to believe
the big dipper on my arm
meant something more
than sun marks & kisses.

But, how can I trust words
that slip through my teeth
as easy as breathing
when this star
has only ever learned
how to     f
                a
                   l
                l
                    ?
much like my writing.
I'm dizzy.
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& faces,
& people.

I want to forget their veins,
fingerprints forever burned into my eyelids;
wrists I can't look at
without longing to tear apart.

Spine full, and spiteful:

I want to cry
roses in my midnight tea
for these star collapsed lungs.

I want to cry for her
& for me.

But Shame,
she wont allow me the courtesy.
First poem of 2013.

What is one more thing to add to my huge list of disappointments? I can always add one more.

Very personal.
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These Tears Would Come:



If my tears could tell a story of two -

What would they have to say about you?

Of a boy who spent his whole life seeking

And a girl who found it in the arms of another…

Would they tell us of laughter? Beneath a starlit sky,

Or of harsh words exchanged on bitter nights.

Would they speak of moments, so beautifully captured;

To be enjoyed in memory, like a perfect wine.

Or perhaps they would tell us of an untampered truth:

Of the lonely nights spent longing, for an Eden lost.

Captivated, habituated, to this lonely habit of you;

For her alone, these tears would come.



-Chen Yuan Wen, 31st march 2013
Ladies and Gents,

Happy Easter, I hope you're having fun so far.

I'll be posting a journal update tomorrow morning, since I've been so busy recently, but for today enjoy this sorrowful romance piece ^^.

You can also pick up the formatted Word (and PDF) version of this plus AUDIO! for just 10 points ;3 Click the purchase button and download them immediately :3

I felt that I ought to show, due to my recent slew of work, that I am not limited solely to dark topics. I prefer them, but romance is just as easy (especially if its sad).

After all, I'm sure we all have those people whom we find to be our 'habits'

-Captain Chen of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:

If you like my work and want to support me. Come check out my journal campaign

Journal: Spread the Word... (Support Section Updated)THE WORD OF CHEN!
New poems, story and premium content this week!
Updates made to SUPPORT section, LOVE section and SPREAD section. Also check out details for my facebook account ^^
------------------------------------------
News Section:
Alright mates,
Been another long break due to all this job searching stuff and quite frankly I've got more of that coming up next week, but this week is the last round of applications and therefore it'll be more about the interviews and such in the days to come. Hence I should have a little bit more time for writing, as and when I can at least ^^.
THAT SAID, TONIGHT I SHALL BE RELEASING SOMETHING NEW FOR ALL OF YOU! ORAAAA!
In addition to that this week, I'm hoping to release the first part of 'Live With Me', my first attempt at a sci-fi story. As well as a few poems I've written while being on the break.
For those of you who want to keep up with my Zany-antics OUTSIDE of DA, come joi


Want to stalk me? Here are some cool links:

My Facebook Page: [link]
Youtube Channel: [link]
My Gallery: [link]

Want to sell your soul to me? Join up with my pirate crew:

:iconblack-fedora-pirates:
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The Flower of Evil:

Evil is but a blooming flower,
Alluring, captivating.
It is born from a humble seed
And grows to corrupt a forest.

To watch its infection spread;
To be a part of its existence...
I can think of no better prospect,
Can you?

Indeed one might baulk at the idea,
Of seeing millions suffer.
To watch worlds scream and writhe;
To see them suffer and die, with living eyes...

Yet there is a mysterious beauty in such devastation,
Fear that shakes me to my very core;
Is transfigured into a twisted pleasure:
As I am frightened, so too am I aroused.

I am addicted to the ephemeral sensation;
To the borderline between rapture and rupture.
To see my own blood soaking from splitting wounds;
Leaves me maddened amongst these blooming flowers

-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st May 2013
Alright, so as always the Captain is extremely busy, but with quite a lot of pestering, and some snacks, I managed to squeeze this poem out of him. I find it to be quite chilling, and excellently written, and I hope you all agree!

Also, when he sent me this he made a comment; "1st of May is Madness Day"

I'm not sure what this means, so I hope you guys could explain? xD

-Co-Captain Bunny Hayes
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Poetic Practice - Love Like Ash:

Yes sir, he is clinging to insanity.
He remembers all the things he said, profanity.
Bare the shame on his naked old humanity.
He is the doll claiming love for his vanity-

When he woke up, desire!
He made a move like fire.
His whispers; a liar,
His heart snaps, like wire!


But what are you thinking of this man as I make him out?
Is it an image or a type that you seem to tout.
was it all his fault with no one else to blame,
Or were there cracks in the story that they both will claim-

Spit that and live that,
Hate when you love that!
You rip that and tear that,
Scream like you know that!


Stop for a moment and just listen to this silent cry,
Time has stopped now for both of us to say goodbye.

Both turning on these clocks, living lies that have stopped;
And when the love turns to ash, let the gloves be dropped...

- Chen Yuan Wen, 17th January 2013
Arr maties,

Just doin' a bit o' practice today. Experimentin' with using slower long lines coupled with aggressive short interludes. Mostly I be testing out th' transitions between forms to make 'em more smooth ^^

The idea behind it is mostly about what happens when love turns t' ash (goes sour in case ye didn't get what I meant) and how we all think about th' things we've said and how the blame just goes back an' forth.

Inspired by the concept of turning back time, by: :iconoliviaotakusama101: in
Time turning...If days were sad,
I wish I could turn back time,

If days were happy,
I still wish I could turn back time,

So do I wish to turn time,
everyday?

And if... it were possible,
to turn back time,

I wouldn't be the person,
I am today.


-Captain Chenbeard of the Black Fedora Pirates :iconwordofchen:
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You are invited to anonymously contribute your secrets to DeviantArtSecret.

Each secret can be a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession or childhood humiliation.
Reveal anything – as long as it is true and you have never shared it with anyone before.

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Send your secret to DeviantArtSecret@gmail.com

You are invited to anonymously contribute your secrets to DeviantArtSecret.

Each secret can be a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession or childhood humiliation.

Reveal anything – as long as it is true and you have never shared it with anyone before.

For help or assistance, visit the INTERNATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION WIKI.

Before you send your secrets in, please read the GROUP RULES.

For a list of stock accounts, please read the shout-board on our main page.
For more information on the group, please read our journals.



Send your secret to DeviantArtSecret@gmail.com


Submitted by - DAS
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Artist Comment: "I don't think the media influences me as much as it does other people and I would also like to make it clear that the only person's appearance I care about is my own."

Send your secret to DeviantArtSecret@gmail.com

You are invited to anonymously contribute your secrets to DeviantArtSecret.

Each secret can be a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession or childhood humiliation.
Reveal anything – as long as it is true and you have never shared it with anyone before.

For help or assistance, visit the INTERNATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION WIKI.

Before you send your secrets in, please read the GROUP RULES.

For a list of stock accounts, please read the shout-board on our main page.
For more information on the group, please read our journals.


Submitted by - DAS Helper 7

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"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
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To the mocking flash of my cell phone clock

The glitter of morning my closed blinds block

In a hunch on a chair or a ball on my bed

Comfortable and comfy but I stay up instead

With paper and pens and paintbrushes I raise

And the stories that unfold on each turning page

Youtube, Facebook, and clicking links

Are the things that keep me from even a blink

Round and round, my thoughts echo and spin

Closing my eyes even seems like a sin

Redbull, pepsi, and midnight snacks

Drinks of sugar in tempting twelve packs

The silence of myself and the embrace of a book

Casting and reeling until sleep's on my hook

They say theres plenty of fish in the sea

But sleep swims deeper than my hook can see

Alone in a dimming desk lamp light

Confronted by morning that stepped through the night

Open curtains, birds with a morning song

It's a shame I had to wait this long.

ehh couldn't sleep
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Oh, so you're not thin?

Tell me how you're ugly.

Oh, so your hair doesn't look good everyday?

Tell me whose does.

Oh, so you make mistakes?

Tell me who doesn't.

Oh, so you're not a model?

Tell me what the definition of beauty is.

Oh, so you aren't normal?

Tell me what "normal" is.

Oh, so you aren't good enough?

Tell me why.

You can't.

Because there isn't a standard you need to reach to be yourself.

 

 

this is another inspirational poem thing for my feels about bullying, helf harm, depression, etc. It was kind of sparked bny my friend and his confession of his feelings. I want to spread the word around that it is a bigger problem that you may think. People actually this about themselves and others take it as something attention-whores do. People actually think of themselves as worthless and it breaks my heart </3 so any support would be great. it could save someone :)
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Just give me one dream that isn't see-through.
One substantiated claim to reality,
that I might hold onto life with.
Every quivering cell, mid-osmosis, begs you
for a shred of dignity with my tea.
Just one chance for something heavy,
something hard and room temperature. Real.
I don't want to look through my day dreams
and see someone else's face there.
I don't want to dream of those people
who may make, or break me, in the future tense.
I am tired of milky white and reflective black.
It is time for a life of colour and hope -
and not looking back to see if the past
matches up with the jigsaw map to the end game.
I want to be in the game, participating,
feeling, like I might make it there one day.
Just give me something, that I can hold onto;
something harder to see through than a whisper
of that voice in the back of my mind that says
Maybe.
Maybe i'll make it.


My friend Nichole has her skype message as "Just give me one thing that isn't see through". I have no idea what it means or where she got it, but I took it to this place. Soo, thanks Nichole / wherever she got it from. Hopefully it's not a quote from her awesome writer boyfriend. That would be awkward O_o
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We cut hearts
into paper to make streams
                         of love.
That was my impression of it.
That you ripped
      off
    the pieces you didn't want
until you got something that was
                          pretty.
It's no wonder
that I can't believe that someone
would think I was paper-perfect,
                         or loved.

             ~♥~♥~
Inspired by the title of one of today's DD's; "paper hearts" so thank you *travelgirlxx!
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A group of us lying on the floor
in a too-small apartment
that can’t hold a fraction of our disorders
syndromes and symptoms
tucked under the kitchen sink
and in between self help books
and in the pages of love poetry
only half meant.

A group of us lying on the floor
wishing we could see the stars.
but thats not how the architecture
has been set up for us
we have to live our lives blinkered
from the celestial
but at least we have each other.

A group of us lying on the floor
letting music replace our immune systems
not caring if a misspent lyric saves us,
not caring if a dropped note kills us
we don’t care about anything but the floor,
these walls, these chains,
that sound so familiar in an acoustic’s voice.

A group of us lying on the floor
caring about nothing but the ceiling
thats blocking out the light.
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I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?

Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.

A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now
I’ll still be
A missing
Piece.
I wish I could explain what had me writing this, but the feeling has left me and embedded itself in the words. I hope that they're a good enough explanation.
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Do you fear your own death?
Is it hard to conceive?
Draw in your last breath, then-
Your last breath will leave.

Isn't it strange to think,
That there's a timer above your head?
A countdown you can't see,
That finishes when you're dead.

Don't you ever wonder,
What it'll be like when you're gone?
I bet the world will keep on spinning.
There will be another dawn.

But the harsh reality behind it-
We're all going to die.
There's no reason to try to fight it
Not even to question why.

It makes me wish that I could have a little more to give,
Because I'm not afraid of how I'll die...

I'm afraid of how I'll
Live...
The one certain thing about everybodies life is that we will all eventually reach death. And death can mean a lot of things to a lot of different people. The important thing is to make sure that when death arrives, we feel as though we've accomplished everything that we were meant to do with our time on this wonderful green/blue, life sustaining planet of ours.

I just hope that I'll be that ready
Whenever my time actually -does- come...

And I hope that you will be too.
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When you tell me I'm worth nothing, this isn't news to me.
On the surface I look fine 'cause it's inside that I'm suffering.
Trying to find a way to possibly numb the pain...
Trying to break the chains, but these efforts are all in vain.

Maybe if my heart just suddenly stopped beating,
It wouldn't hurt this much and I'd get over this empty feeling...
If I could stop the rain from pouring down from the sky,
Would you be glad I'm alive? Would you finally be satisfied?

So much of me is wasted trying to be your perfect.
Even when it works you make me feel like it isn't worth it.
How can you expect I'll want to try again soon,
When all I ever get are more reasons for open wounds?

I may say that it's okay but It's 'cause I don't know what to do,
When you stand here in front of me and breathe lies like they're truth.
You tell me every little thing that you think that I want to hear,
But little do you know your words are falling upon deaf ears.

So you push me away and pretend that I don't exist...
Could somebody please help explain to me all of this?
I don't understand what you're trying to make me be...
Can't you just accept that this person is really me?

If I could make the stars shine a little bit brighter,
If I made the world just a little bit quieter,
If I could stop the rain from pouring down from the sky,
Would you finally be satisfied? Would you be glad I was alive...?
...
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Times like this when I can’t find the rights words.
Times like this when I find myself crying.
As I have no way to express.
But this pencil twirling in my hand.

Sometimes I’ll make art, and proudly show it.
Sometimes I’ll make shit, and quickly destroy it.

With either I find they both seem to end in the same way.
With a simple message, strewed through long and tedious words.

That could be said much simpler, and probably has.
But still I say it, for it’s all I have.

COMMENTS AND FAVORITES ARE LOVED~!!!
HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY!
Thanks to :iconzelaeii: For always being there for me, inspiring me to become a writer, and just being the best friend anyone could ask for!

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Grip my neck tight and don’t let it go.
      Forgetting to let me breathe.

So I can taste blood, as I bite my lip.

Today is the day I please him.
With my innocent body.
As
    you
      rip
        apart
          my
            soul

“Admit you like it”
Rip my heart out, and drink the remains.

Then chain me to the bed,
    a neck with scars.

“Oh my oh my, you've been such a naughty girl”
Pitied by the daytime, it’s when vampires like you sleep.

“Oh my oh my, you've been such a naughty girl”
I just want to rip out your wicked heart.

Please forgive these tears running down my cheeks,
I swear I’ll devoid myself of all emotion.
Ah, I will moan when you command.
Listening to every will.


“I love you”
It hurts so much, the whips and chains.
I hate being tied down like this.


“I love you too.”
I'll be posting more poems soon. Because My Photoshop disk is gone. D:
Umm...Happy Valentines day?

WATCH ME FOR POETRY AND PHOTOGRAPHY
[link]
COMMENTS AND FAVORITES MAKE MY DAY!

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If only I could read your mind
If only I could interpret you emotions
Understand what you're going through
See through your eyes
Hear through your ears
Feel through your heart
If only I knew how to help you

But I can't
And I don't
And it's killing me
So what do I do?
Tell me.
Just... wrote this on a whim... literally took me 30 seconds to come up with and write... taking longer just to post it... I hope it's self-explanatory, if not feel free to ask...
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