My Every Day Life


Every day life feels painful...barely to none human one on one contact. The usual hi or bye from students. the usual how are you but not really genuine.

who wants to get to know me?


suffering from this loneliness

I feel isolated

I hate being a loner

I want to have friends and go out and do simple stuff like getting together and chatting about nothing in particular

just the warmth of knowing we want to be in each others presence...and not caring that our conversation is lame or trivial.

I want to talk to someone about my deep mental problems

to pray together

read scriptures together


Since I left the life of the world

not partying

no doing drugs

or drinking

my friends have vanished

and now I am left with nothing

did I really have anyone to call 'friends' to begin with?

Had I only had God?

Everything and everyone is so fake.


when will they be genuine

am I crazy?

do I come off as insane?

why can't I have a normal life

wanting to throw myself in traffic

I longed for death since I was a child


how long will I have to be alone?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Suffering always

Will anyone

If I kill myself will anyone care,
Will anyone mourn me
Will anyone cry
Will anyone come come to my funeral
I know my mother will not be one
Will anyone remember me
Or will they forgot
Will people blame my mother for everything she's done 
Will people say I fought depression since I was eleven 
Or will they say that I was happy
and that they didnt see it coming  
Will they say I was cowardly 
Or that I was brave 
Would anyone even care?

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The Summons

Deja Vu means something "already seen",
And when it happens to us,
We experience an awareness of something
That calls us to become the observer,
However eerie at times it may be during these moments,
Or perhaps a feeling of wonder, with some element of mystery or suspense,
What is it?


Could it be that as we expand and contract,
Within the many different planes of consciousness,
We travel in and out of dimensions of the psyche,
To test the waters of our existence in ways that move the soul,
To greater knowledge and learning?
Or is it some soul inspiration that arises in an effort,
Churning the cosmic wheel to raise us higher
Than the sordid depths, where we wallow in an earthly existence,
Without the fires that fuel man's evolutionary aspirations?


Perhaps it is the soul in these moments that thrusts it's momentum onto us
After a feeble will of human self-pity imposes an attempt upon themselves,
In writhing suicidal escape, desperatly, a fettered fragment of itself in a different dimension?
And Deja Vu, a manipulation of time and space by hands unseen,

Belonging to the soul,
And spirit unacknowledged, that speaks to us
Through this awareness, this conundrum, Deja Vu...
   ...could it be, that what it is, is an offer to tear down the walls?

To remove the veils?


Deja Vu...

Deja Vu...

Deja Vu...
 offered cosmic breakthrough?



12:18 AM 5/12/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

what is deja vu to you?

Expanded thoughts on a variation of the same idea--

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The Invisibles

I am the one you see in the hallway and bump into.

I am the one who sits alone at lunch.

I am the one with the voice no one expected.

I am the one with all the answers.

I am the one who knows nothing at all.

I am the one you stare at in the hall.

I am the one who wears what you wouldn't.

I am the one you wouldn't dare talk to.

I am the one you wouldn't even glance twice at.

I am you're best friend.

I am you're worst enemy.

I am the one good at computers.

I am the one telling you not to fear the unknown.


I am the one who is unknown to you...

And if you are to afraid to reach out....

just like that *snaps* 

I am the one who is gone for good.

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There Is A Girl

There is a girl with cuts on her wrist,
with dying at the top of her list.
She closes her eyes and counts to ten,
she's ready to try this all again.
She grips the blade a little tighter,
tried so hard to be a fighter.
The world she knows starts to fade away,
she's happy she doesn't have to stay.
Slowly everything fades to black,
a smile on her face because she knows she's not coming back.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Comment with any constructive criticism or ideas for other poems :)
This poem is dedicated to my best friend/sister who tried to kill herself twice yet is still here. Love you forever and after! <3

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Dull Sharp Release

I take a deep breath.
I cringe.
My chest hurts;
My heart tore me through

The pain,
It's too heavy to shoulder
The steely tip bites my skin
The tears, they burn, they cut

I need to finish this
They don't understand
The piercing throb, ragged pulsing
Don't understand...

How will they feel?

I grip the handle
My knuckles turn white
I press against the pommel


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A thousand fish in the sea
but there are none by me.
I swim to the bottom
but nothing is there.
I don't feel the sun on my back,
I am always lost in the night.
flouting on the cloud
with nothing holding me there.
the desire of love lost
gone from time of pain
gone from lovers lost
from words of hate.
And then I fall
out of the tree.
from the clouds were my mind dwells.
And then I come up gasping for air.
not able to go through with it.

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As I sit still in the evening rain,
Thinking my reasons are all insane.

Taking and Tasting the horrible pain,
Making decisions with nothing to gain.

Now I’m the only one left to blame,
I try to prevail but it’s all still the same.

Soon the sound sleep I’m going to claim,
As I sit still in the evening rain.

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Wait For The Silence

I took the gun out last night, and had it by my side.
I took the gun out last night, no more emotions left to hide.

Pain and suffering fill my head,
I honestly wish I were dead.

My heart no longer wants to beat,
Take all these memories, and just delete.

I took the gun out last night, and had it by my side.
I took the gun out last night, no more emotions left to hide.

Feel the barrel smooth and cold,
Feel the barrel, a story untold.

I wish someone cared as much as I,
Hurt encased around my heart, as I sit here and cry.

Love, hate and pain,
I have nothing left to gain.

Feel the barrel smooth and cold,
Feel the barrel, a story untold.

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