So this is the first compilation of poetry that I wrote for second semester. I hope you enjoy!
I’m feeling a lot.
The icy numbness melting.
This is almost worse.
Which way would hurt less?
Feeling no pain or all of it?
Voices of those above speak,
Muffled without pain.
Why can’t anyone care when
I can’t ever seem to stop.
She go lost somewhere
Now she only floats around,
Faking who she was.
Poem for a Yandere
Standing there across the yard,
A girl with a knife in her hands.
Slowly stepping closer,
This girl holds your life in her hands.
Imagining sticky red blood flowing out,
Veins pouring into her hands.
Seeing pain mirrored in her eyes,
Memories of you holding her hands.
Coming to hurt you like you hurt her,
Heart barely beating in her hands.
It’s too bad you didn’t think to call,
Her phone sitting silently in her hands.
It’s too bad no one will help you now
Today you die by my hands.
That’s my heart lying on the floor.
A limp organ pulsing unsteadily
Dripping in a puddle of my blood.
Oh so alone.
That’s my empty chest cavity.
A hole gorged where that heart was
Hurting to breathe.
Pick it up.
Force that ugly thing back in your chest
Choke through the pain in your lungs
But I can’t and
It wont fit and
This hole is too big to be filled.
Who’s gruesome heart is that.
Filled with swollen veins.
How’d it get so torn up and cold.
The scars and
The aches and
My heart still lying on the floor.
Have Fun Throwing Your Petty Little Fucking Fit Avery
New Message: sorry the only thing
You have to deal with is
Mental illness. I’m sorry
Too, that I can’t function
Like a normal human but
Believe me when I say that
I wish I could take care of that
Baby that you leave alone instead
Of taking care of the crying child
That is my mind. Give me something
I can control. New message:
take your fake ass shit somewhere
else everyone sees through it anyways.
I wish I was faking, so I could feel
The pain your words are
Supposed to inflict but I don’t
And I won’t so
I hope you like being alone because
I do. It has become my home.
Vacation Pt. 1
It was raining
The rain dripping down the car window
Like the rain dripping down my cheeks
Mom staring with worry
Bright red emergency, and my hand being held
Like a small child who might wander
Sat in a chair as they pulled up sweater sleeves
sticking to severed skin with dried blood
Nurses eyes filled with pity
Led to a room and placed in a bed
Removed of clothing and belongings
Fragile, pale, staring at the ceiling
Eyes dry up and gasps grow silent
My brain feeling like it has melted
Green-blue scrubs on a shivering body.
Down the hall
Someone is crying in pain
The world continues around
But time stood still in my tiny room
Two in the morning
How are you feeling?
mom sits in the corner crying
I explain the feelings in the brain that turned against me
Picking at scabs forming in long clean lines
It starts to rain again when I hear what I already knew for the past 5 years
We recommend you be committed.
Note From The Devil, My Lover
Dear you’re my human sacrifice
A gift to those in pain
Your sad solemn words that entice
Umbrellas protecting those in the rain.
Nothing you ever write is nice
Because you do it to sustain
To fight against the constant malice
That I stuck inside your brain.
How did it feel when you started to slice
When you pierced those precious veins
The blood that dripped from that vice
It left a very large stain.
Dear you’re my human sacrifice
Heart dark and deep and maimed
Happiness will never suffice
Because I made you to be insane.
Vacation Pt. 2
Eyes blurry, ears ringing
We’ll give you a minute to get ready
No phones allowed. your mom can bring more clothes the next day.
Here’s phone numbers and your socks, I promise you’ll be ok
Are you ready
You have to go in a wheelchair. Why? Because you’re sick.
Eyes filled with pity staring sadly at me
Skin becomes itchy. Ok I guess I’m ready
Through winding hallways
The nurse and the security guard talk about who didn’t come to work that day
Their lives so normal, and mine so crushed
Eyes glazed over but out of tears to cry
Nurse said I like your socks
My socks said bitches get stuff done
I didn’t get stuff done
If I had I wouldn’t be in this elevator
Finally sat in a dimly lit room
3 a.m. with rules set out in front of me
Paper titled “Your Fall Prevention Plan”
Too late for that, I’ve already hit the ground.