Do You?Every scar tells a story...

A cross for the time I doubted God,
Four down the middle,
Because three was odd.
One for the insults,
And how my heart breaks.
Seven for the time he was ripped away.
Eight for the time you left me alone,
Six for the time,
I lost my home.

My scars talk.
And you listen.
But you don't hear.
You don't hear,
My doubts and fears.
My insecurities and confusion,
They do not exist in your illusion.
I have been ripped away from what I need.
And what I need,
Is to grieve,
And bleed.

My scars tell a story.
I have a reason for what I do.
My scars tell a story.
But you don't hear,
Do you?

ScreamingScreaming on the inside,
Smiling on the out.
I don't need this torture;
I don't need this doubt.

I'm sick of denial;
I'm sick of these lies.
Once, just once,
My smile should reach my eyes.

My scars are fading;
My courage is gone.
Everyone's jaded,
It's time I move on.

To a world with no sadness,
Lies,
Or fear.
A world of wonder,
Lingers near.

A slip of the knife,
Like a slip of the tongue.
I've ended my life.
I'm finally done.

I Met MeToday I met a girl,
and she asked, "How are you?"
"Just fine," I replied.
She said, "No, tell me what's true."

Perplexed, I stopped and stared.
She was young, no older than eight.
Her eyes were still innocent.
They knew no hate.

"What did you say?"
I asked in confusion.
"You know what I mean," she said.
This girl was in a delusion.

Trying to be kind,I replied,
"No I do not."
She frowned and replied,
"You lie quite a lot."

Now I was agitated.
What does this girl know?
Acting like she's so intelligent.
I'll just tell her to go.

"Let me explain!"
She exclaimed in haste.
"I know you're not alright.
I know you feel misplaced."

What?
How in

Lo, How She Lie, Still and BrokenI'm trying so hard to get better,
So hard to be strong.
I'm trying so hard to keep smiling,
So hard to go on.
But I'm getting tired,
This happiness drains me.
The walls are closing in,
It's getting hard to breath.
My conciousness,
Goes in and out.
The room goes black and white.
I can't take much more of this,
I think I've lost my sight.

Moral of the story:

You can't do it all,
Because no matter what you say or do,
Even the mighty fall.

I Have Never Really Known YouI see you're hurting.
I try to help.
I can't reach you.
Can anyone else?
The one who loves you,
Does he hear your plea?
If anyone does,
It's not me.
I know you are strong,
But it's okay to be weak.
It's okay to fall down;
It's okay to be meek.
Before you fall,
In that briar patch,
You should know,
I have your back.
We laugh,
Together.
We cry,
Together.
Soul Best Friends For Like,
Fucking Ever.
Our time together,
Will never pass.
Jump off a bridge,
I'll get on my boat,
And save your ass.

Society and What She IsEvery smile is a lie.
Every laugh is a lie.
Every single time I say I'm okay,
I lie.
I have never been happy.
I learned that I need to hide,
Hide the depression,
Hide everything that is wrong.
Hide what I feel,
Because society thinks it is wrong.
Society,
And it's uniformity,
It's disgust,
Press down on me like an anvil.
Society is breathing down my back,
Analyzing me,
Like I am not human.
Like I am not one of them.
I do not conform,
So Society makes me believe I am wrong,
A freak,
A science experiment.
Society makes me this.
I could be normal,
But for
Society.

WarIt's not about living.
It's about dying.
It's not about laughing,
It's about crying.
It's about loss,
And pain.
It's about greed,
And personal gain.
It's about yelling,
And slamming the door.
It is what it is,
And this is war.

The MonsterI can't trust;
I can't love you.
The monster,
It's overpowering.
I'm not strong enough;
It has invaded me.
Every organ,
Every cell,
Every molecule,
Has been destroyed,
And taken over by something that isn't human.

It has to be something else;
It has to.
I wouldn't cut myself.
I wouldn't hate myself,
Or starve myself,
Or lose myself in a sea of hatred,
Of bloodlust,
And sorrow.
Would I?

LoveIt's crazy,
And sad,
And wild,
And mad.
It's laughing,
And screaming,
Smiling,
And believing.
It's everything,
And nothing.
What I have,
Is something.
It's happiness,
And all,
All you dream of.
What is it,
You ask my dear?
Well, darling,
It's love.

Tragic ValentineWhen I look in your eyes,
I see the rest of my life.
I love you,
I do.
And I know you love me too.
A ring on my finger,
And another on yours.
We know each other.
We have no doors.
Even though we're separated,
By six feet of dirt.
The words you whisper,
Still heal my hurt.
The way you exist,
Inside my head,
A figment of the imagination,
Can never be dead.
I am yours,
And you are mine.
I will always love you,
My tragic Valentine.

Not Good EnoughNot good enough for me,
not good enough for you,
maybe all the insults
are simply what's true.

What can I say?
Nothing, I'm done,
so sick and tired
of having to run.

So this is the end,
the last puzzle piece,
the very last straw,
the pain will soon cease.

I won't have to struggle.
There will be no pain,
and everyone's lives
will go on quite the same.

Because I am just me.
The greatest disappointment of all.
So say good-bye,
as I start my free fall.

Butterfly ScreamsIt's fun,
Isn't it?
Hurting me?
Killing me?
Watching me bleed?

Mocking me?
Striking me?
Ignoring my needs?

Destroying who I am,
And all I'll ever be.

But you wouldn't stop,
That I can see.

The butterflies in my stomach,
Scream as the hurtful words
Pin them to corkboard.
I'll cut myself,
And bleed.
I'm gonna lay down,
And hear the butterflies scream.

"Don't even worry."
"I'm perfectly fine."
Words are sandpaper,
And a couple of lies.

So while I'm here,
Down on the floor;
Do your worst,
Your worst and more.

So I'll lay down,
And bleed.
Even when I'm gone,
The butterflies will still scream.

The Shams of What RemainsMorals are so hard to cling to,
When everyone's doing drugs.
Crimes are committed everywhere,
And everyone's a thug.

Being a virgin isn't a virtue,
You hide it away with shame.
Yet while all of drink and smoke,
Proudly I proclaim,
Alcohol, I know not the taste.
Smoking, I do scorn.
I shall not look,
While away you waste,
Looking so forlorn.

I am my own person,
And my morals I hold dear.
I quietly sit at home,
While my friends win "Stupidest Decision of the Year."

Though I'm not perfect,
And I'll never claim to be.
My peace of mind is worth it,
So I'll be true,
To me.

A Perfect DayThe rain is pouring;
I don't know what to say.
I'm actually not depressed today.

The birds are silent,
And Mulan is on.
Where have the scars and nightmares gone?

Are they in the closet?
Under the bed?
Where have they gone?
Why have they fled?

You know what?
I don't care.
All that matters,
Is that they aren't there.

I'll grab a blanket,
Take a nap.
Eat some cereal,
Curl up with the cat.
Enjoy this time,
Until it's gone.
So let me sit down,
And put my happy face on.

ScarsWe all have our scars.
Shattered dreams and broken hearts.
Sometimes you see,
Sometimes you don't.
Sometimes, though,
Sometimes you won't.
You won't see,
What's so plainly there.
You won't see,
For fear of a scare.
Fear clouds you eyes,
Then you become blind.
You are blind to everything,
Except for you.
No matter what,
Selfish is everything you do.
Scars are always there,
Etched in your skin,
And the follicles of your hair.
We all have our scars.

Browse More Like This

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Locked in Eternal StruggleHow I look on the outside,
Does not match the in.
What are the differences?
I don't know where to begin.
My ivory flesh,
Disguises my insides of tar.
Clear green eyes hide the darkness,
Observed in me thus far.
Crying for a change,
Demanding she see the world,
Lingering inside me,
There is another girl.
Untouched by all my worries,
Free from all my pain,
That girl screams inside me.
Desperate to see the day,
Like a maze in my soul,
She's trying to get out.
She will reach the surface,
Of that I have no doubt.
I can hear the bitch screaming,
She's so fucking loud.
I guess I was wrong.
My depression won't let her out.

The Turtle Who Got Lucky Ever heard slow and steady wins the race? I have issues with that phrase. "Slow and steady" wins the race against fast? No. Slow and steady wins against fast, and prideful, which is a very important distinction. A rabbit against a turtle? Rabbit wins, no contest. Turtle against a egotistic rabbit? Then, and only then, will a turtle have any chance of being victorious. "Slow and steady wins the race" is something we tell ourselves so that we don't feel like everyone who does better than us now will do better than us in the long run. It's a load of complete and utter crap. If you can be fast and successful, you have it made. By "it," I mean everything. The road to success is paved by the tears of the "slow and steady" who are labouring away, trying to be who those walking the road are.
I am a turtle surrounded by rabbits. Not only do I not win, I don't belong and I will never be accepted, not th

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Suicide

by =clarissabelle, Jan 17, 2013, 6:43:55 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Traditional Fixed Forms

I'm not okay.
I'm not "free."
I'm not the me,
You think to be me.
I'm falling up,
Into a beautiful sky of blood.
All of it's mine,
Leaving my body,
In a torrential flood.
I want to leave,
Pop those pills.
Join Death,
In roaming the rolling hills.
I want my canvas,
Of blood and skin.
I want my body destroyed,
To commit that beautiful sin.
I want the pain,
The poison and death.
I want that exhilaration,
And loss of breath.
I want to die,
And go away.
So I shall take my life,
Today.

278

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Suicideby =clarissabelle

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This had become an obsession lately, hasn't it?

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Submitted on: January 17
File Size: 705 bytes

Views: 278
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~dash228 Apr 13, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

i like how u portrayed suicide as a beautiful and intense ritual . nice work and thanks for sharing !

=clarissabelle Apr 13, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Haha, thank you.

~Elizaburr Apr 12, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

"turning off the game console without even passing the next level."
- Unialada (cliche but very wise words.)
"there is always another chapter to be written."
-Elizabeth Reynolds (but who am i to know?)

=clarissabelle Apr 12, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Fair enough.

~Unialada Jan 27, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Why you haven't kill yourself yet?? if you think about this so much?

=clarissabelle Jan 27, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I've tried but failed. The second time, my friend kept me from it.

~Unialada Jan 27, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Wow.
You know, for having a cute rainbow muffin in your icon that sounds a little bit sad...
Suicide it's not an option for me, somebody I know lost his son because of it

=clarissabelle Jan 27, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I've always thought about how my parents would feel if I commuted suicide.

~Unialada Jan 27, 2013 Hobbyist General Artist

Yeah,surely they would though about how they failed as parents for you and how unnatural is to have to prepare the funeral of your own child, instead of you preparing the funeral of them.

I don't know, life is like Tetris, all the good things you do dissapear, and the mistakes you make accumulates one by one until you losse, and for end the game, you HAVE to losse.
For me suicide it's like turn off the game console without even pass the next level.

`MagicalJoey Jan 27, 2013 Writer

Don't you dare. The world would lose an amazing person and poet, lostmyslef (I think that's the DA name) would lose an amazing friend and I would lose someone I am just getting to know through powerful writing.

Hold on ducks, hold on.

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