OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here

The Unwanted Friend

If period is alive,

If period is a person,

If period is here,

I would hurt period,

And there will be no more period.

Period.

- A poem dedicated to all the young girls and women in midst of their monthly visit.

Sanctuary (or Awakening Into a Nightmare on a Saturday Morning)

My bed, my sanctuary

Wrapped in comfort, I escape

In my dreams, I can start over

New possibilities exist

I'm no longer bound by my past decisions, mistakes or fears

But it's fleeting

The slightest sound - the bird chirping, the neighbors' voices, the dreaded alarm

Jolts me into reality where I am bound and trapped

In the stress spiral of my own creation

So I lay in my sanctuary

Dreading the first step into the field of life

Rigged with mental land mines of crippling fear

I lay hoping to doze off, once again

Into the land of infinite possibilities,

If only for a minute

Before I embark on another day in a hopeless reality

From which I cannot escape

Unmasked

All these changes, they're breaking me,

Piece by piece they're drowning me.

I don't know what to do,

I don't know where I am,

Is it a cul-de-sac or a metropolis that I glimpse?

A guiding light,

I desperately am in need,

Please tell me, where do I seek?

I strived to be perfect,

The person they wanted to see,

The individual I didn't want to be.

I tried to slip on a masquerade,

To create a flawless illusion,

To conceal the emotions,

And the truth that lied within;

But I guess that is stabbing me,

And my petty little conscience.

I just don't know what I should do,

I am lost for thoughts, words and deeds.

Do stay motionless?

Or stand up to the accusations?

A steady life I long for,

In this topsy turvy world of mine,

Oh what do I do? Maybe just sit here and whine?

I am afraid to raise my voice,

To unleash my identity,

I am not as ideal as they describe,

I've got my own differences to tackle when thrown aside,

It just gets exhausting, the more I try to suffice.

Oh, I want to stand up to the allegations,

And yes, I want to prove to them I'm right.

Sucking up to all the changes

And pretending that I'm fine?

That's not how I feel,

Oh you need to know what's on the inside.

Drowning in my fears,

Facing it all alone,

Will someone come to help me,

I can't do this on my own.

Distorted shapes and hooded figures

flitting in and out of my vision,

mocking me of my cowardice.

I shrank back into the comforts of oblivion,

refusing to acknowledge something

that isn't even there.

A scream pierces the silence of the deadly night

continued by convulsions raking my body.

I see figures surrounding me,

holding me down, drowning me in

a wave of emptiness.

a cool sensation spreads through my veins

as i effortlessly slip into the void.

will I ever rid myself of these

chains of a twisted mind?

How to cope.
(TW: Self-harm, trichotillomania)
This isn't the best poem I've written, I didn't edit it. Sorry!

I used to feel bad,
but that was a while ago.
I used to feel bad,
but I scratched lines, marked with red.
I used to feel bad,
but that subsided.

I feel bad again,
it's been going on a while.
I feel bad again,
it'll be bad to tell anyone.
I feel bad again,
it'll be nice to let those lines heal.
I feel bad again,
it'll be nice to...

Wait. Is this okay?
...Yes, it is.

I still feel bad,
I close the bathroom door.
I still feel bad,
I feel the hair on my head.
Thick hair.

It'd be a shame to ruin it...

...Screw that.

I'm starting to feel worse,
My hands go to my head.
I'm starting to feel worse,
I begin to pull.

One more...
one more...
one more...
Just make it stop...

Too late.

Currently Untitled

Why do I do this to myself? This constant corruption of who I am for the sake of a moment lived in shadows?

Why do I open my eyes to a face that cannot be mine when the sun rises?

As haunted as my dreams are every waking moment is spent waiting, longing to return to them.

Because she will be there. She is always there. Even when she wasn't here.

I can have her in my dreams completely, without hesitation or question. In my dreams the possiblities are endless.

In the night I can have almost everything, but I must give her to the morning.

I don't want to. She doesn't want to.

Why do I feel what should be pain but feel it only as desire? I should hurt but I just love her more.

Pain is gone, I gave at the office. Pain has been replaced by something greater, but why the --- can't I feel pain just one more time?

GODAMMIT I want my pain back!

I want to know I can still feel the emptiness, the blackness. I want to know I can still feel human but try as I might I cannot make it happen. The pain won't come. Give me back my ----ing humanity! ---- you! I deserve to feel normal.

---- you? --- Me!

In those dreams, in those stolen moments of reality I feel only joy, only happiness. I only want them. But I deserve to feel the pain. Johnny Cash could Hurt, why can't I?

Why do I torture myself by wanting to feel pain when what's in front of me is a symphony? I hear Beethoven. Ode to Joy is in my soul but I want is Nine Inch Nails down my back and in my heart.

I want to rip my own heart out and watch it bleed as the life fades from my own eyes but I only feel it beating stronger with every moment she is in my arms. Who the ---- am I? Why is this my curse?

When the morning comes, I give her up. I should cry when she leaves. I don't. whatever. Why don't I beg "don't go! Stay with me now, forever. Untill the sun gives forth it's last burst of light and dies in the heavens leaving us to face the final moments of existence together"?

She is not the problem. I am the problem. I know now I always have been. What is pain to the world is joy to me. What is terror to some is pleasure to me. What villifies the damned sanctifies them in my eyes.

I live in Sweet Pain

expletives deleted by forum mentor Annie

Where it all started

I was eating my dinner with my mom

When we talked about something

That triggered my anxiety

She doesnt know

I kept on eating and saying

I want to throw up

I told myself long ago

Its already in the past

And I should let it go

But my wounds never scarred

They only scabbed

Dried up blood just waiting

For someone to peel them off

Its still clear to me

The pain of being replaced

Being second best

Being compared

I remember the look on their faces

The disappointment

When they found out

That I just came in second

And the way my old friends reacted

They cheered

They said i deserved it

Good for me

At last someone was better than me

They werent my friends at all

They never were

It is still fresh in my mind

The way I was asked why

Why cant I compete

I cannot because I never wanted to

It all started there didnt it

Why I became neurotic apologetic pessimistic

I always wanted to know

Why

Didnt

They

Understand

W h y

No Bacon for the Commoner:

A mark upon my skin

is a common sin.

However I am still able

to get a tattoo.

Wearing polyester

goes against God.

However I am still allowed

to wear it.

Having an abortion

is frowned upon by both

God and our society.

I can still do it.

Trimming a beard

Upsets God, but

our society thinks it is

weird to not shave.

Have you ever eaten

shellfish, rabbit, or a hamburger?

Well I bet you did not know that

you have angered our Lord.

Out of of all of these sins,

Why do we focus on same sex marriages?

The Bible does not agree with it,

But it does not agree with bacon, either.

So so unless you have

read the entire Bible

and meet all of the criteria,

I believe that your opinions are irrelevant.

That night they told me i should withdraw my application from the exchange student program even though i already passed the process

It's my fault because I never said anything

I never told you I was hurting

You never knew that it's the only thing I'm looking forward to

I thought it was going to be my salvation

But I was only getting my hopes up

It's my fault because I always think about myself

I can't sit for long at the dinner table because it's so damn hard

It's so damn hard to suck up my tears

I can't talk because I know I'll just break down

Nobody wants drama in this house

I don't want to give it to anyone of you

I don't want to be bothersome

But that's all I'll ever amount to

I'll never be enough

I know it's driving you crazy that I'm upset

Don't worry about me

I'm just trying to cope up with the pain

I'm not mad at you

Because no matter how much I wanted to

I cannot

Because it's the crappiest thing I could ever do

It's just not right

You could hate me all you want

It's okay

I hate myself too

I hate it very much

I believe I'm better off dead

Is love like this, or is this like love:

I feel a tingle in my tummy

Because you are just like honey

You are shining gold and sweet

You are everything I need

Im just so glad youre by my side

When you smile or scream or cry

Youre as beautiful as the bluest skies

You are cute

Yes, you are mine.

Luckily