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Poems S to U
Secret Shame
Copyright Misty Dreams
The leaves of the trees fall
as the blood from my arms drips
and you call me morbid as I cry
you don't understand me?
Well, nor do I,
so we go on following our eternal circle
both of us separating ourself further,
because there's one difference...
I cope differently.
So, the leaves of the trees go on falling,
in time with the blood and the tears
and you call me morbid as I stand
you can't understand me?
Well, nor do I,
so we'll go on treading in our own paths
alienating ourselves
because of one little detail,
I cope differently.
Sheets
Copyright, Emily
she lies in bed
tangled in soft sheets
that soothe her raw skin
she lies awake
dreams of dreaming
tortured by reality
she feels her bare feet touch the cold floor
exhales as though it's an obligation
already longing for the comfort
acceptance
safety
of her sheets
she wanders through the day
in oblivion
unable to disentangle
her emotions
she falls back into her bed
her shelter
reaches for a pin
needle?
paper clip?
to soothe her raw skin
sinks into a numbness
of sleep
tangled in her soft sheets
Silent Scream
Anonymous
A silent scream will pierce the night
and shadows will confide
Another tear slides down my face
But i put on my mask and hide
I try to breathe
I cannot see
I open my eyes
To choke and to bleed
I cannot live, I will not die
I seek comfort in my blood
And when the day turns into night
Another scar becomes
A broken smile, a shattered dream
A curse beneath those eyes
Deep inside I drew the line
I believed all of your lies
Another scratch morphs to a cut
My triumph pushed away
And as I watch the crimson life
There's nothing left to do but pray
Storm
Anonymous
The rain pelts angrily,
thrashing against my bedroom window.
Ironically appropriate,
as the tears are running down my face
in the same fashion.
I take the pin to my skin,
in just a few
quick, violent actions,
and watch
as the blood, too, runs.
My anger,
sadness,
numbness,
are released
through the storm of
blood and tears,
Just as nature is cleansed
by the rain.
My silent tears
are masked by the weather,
and I sit alone
in the darkness of my room,
falling apart.
This Is Mine
Anonymous
This is mine
I drew this blood
I bruised this flesh
Tonight
You had nothing to do with it!
Two Lives
Anonymous
The picture book life everyone sees,
the happy kid
that does well at school
and has good friends,
a good family.
The one that I have created,
and hope will someday
be real.
The desperate attempt to hold on,
the miserable creature
that cries herself to sleep
is fat, ugly, worthless,
has few real friends.
The life that is real,
and I hope will someday
be only a memory.