Life is painful and empty,

lonesome and weighty.

Trauma is life and everything around,

and you fight all your life just to be 6 feet underground.

Life has given me a lot,

but mostly more traumas to pot.

In my urn of things to overcome,

for everything I've managed just to come undone.

I have fought for what feels like forever,

just for us two to embrace together.

But no matter what I do,

non of it seems to come through.

But no matter how many times you rape me,

beat me down, lock me up and make me hate me.

I will always rise up,

like a cockroach, I will never give up.

And even if you find me wrist bleeding and facing the ground.

Just know I'll come back.

Even if it's just so I can hunt your ass,

and put a tiny yellow flower in your little-butt-crack.

by (me) ThatWeirdKid on allpoetry.com (anonomous webbsite)

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Newly written

needles, lighters, don't bring up those past fighters,

seeing reality while looking for immortality,

in something that could k*ill you,

or sometimes fulfill too.

as I hung up the no*ose,

made sure it wasn't too loose.

Suddenly a plate stood before me,

crushed up stones looking like snow,

glittering and glimmering,

catching my eye, changing my life.

Like a person jumping from a burning building,

drugs is my net, and nothing has as of yet;

been able to help me as much as being in this steady roulette.

Because I'm cursed if I don't and I'm cursed if I do.

Putting poisons in my intestines, to cope with I've gone through.

but I'm not asking for your weeping, nor your sympathy,

all I'm asking is understanding of the person in this symphony,

because I'm writing with rhythm and I'm writing with notes,

but it's different what I'm hearing in mine to all these other folk,

I'm not begging for forgiveness, though I used to be,

I used to plead and beg and ask for them too see,

begging them to let me know that it is okay just to be me.

because everyone always told me what I needed to be,

what I needed to feel, what I needed to do, then told be "boho",

stop crying wipe your tears and your ass and go back to school.

I was mentally tortured for years I endured.

held down, screamed at until I believed what they said,

they said I was a hag, they called me a whore, they told me I was psycho from the second I was born. They told me I needed help and that I was mentally challenged, they told me all the abuse was my fault and I believed them because they were my parents.

or at least they should have been,

and I faulted myself for letting them in,

into my head where they poked and prodded,

as they held me down, I fought for my life.

But I had fought for so long.

and my knees had weakened

I was exhausted beyond word

and I fell into an even darker world

but then suddenly I woke up,

I screamed and my mind started back up,

I had finally had my breakthrough,

smacked with a pan straight out of the blue,

maybe to the drugs in my system a uncoordinated brew.

but why has no matter,

somehow it was,

that I could finally rise and climb back up.

But I used all my power,

so now I'm devoured,

but I am not weak,

I may be scared and bleek,

but I have never been anything other than strong,

lets all go along,

take each others hands and try to move on,

together we can conquer de*ath,

and life can be prolonged.

by (me) ThatWeirdKid on allpoetry.com (anonomous webbsite

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Standing on a cliffs edge

The wind swoop by and steal my breath

Colours dancing over a morning sky

Fighting their will to linger and stray

Making the night sky turn to day

Piercing daggers in every inch of my skin

But all of them emerged from within

Invisible hands over my lips

Holding back

Censoring expression

The colours of the sky change to blue

And I remember

Everything I loved

Dry earth covered in rain

Beating hoves and smell of hay

A hug, a smile,

Consenting exiting promiscuous play

Trust

Blue turn to grey

Lies

Consent taken away

Faceless shadows

Bleeding wrists

Screams without end or want

Pain beyond reason

No rest at night or by day

Crushing weight

Yet weighless panic

Seeing nothing

Then

Quiet

Nothingness

Empty

As the day come to pass

And the storm dies down

I look to the sky a final time

Im lifted toward the stars of light

Future ending

A lonely stars final might

by (me) ThatWeirdKid on allpoetry.com (anonomous webbsite)