Desperate

hopeless

 

 

...........

 

 

 

the sad wimpish one 

 

he covers his body with blood

 

hoping someone will notice

 

just how ugly he is

 

 

he wants to be noticed

 

for the great person he truly is

 

but has no time to notice

 

that no one notices

 

anything anymore

 

 

and life goes on

 

and he stays sad

 

dying to live

 

and crying to die

 

 

never having the balls

 

to ask himself why

 

 

2:39 AM 7/6/2013

 

 

            ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

inspired by the signs of the times, and those who are having a hard time enjoying life on life's terms. 

My Inner Demons Are Winning

Folder: 
Depressed.

My life used to be

one giant hulking mess.

and me a weak sodden soul,

padded with distress.

I tried to fight against it

but it kept dragging me down.

Smothering me in regrets

and causing me to drown.

I often sleep for hours

with no desire to wake.

And let the depression take me down

though I know it is a mistake.

SO I begin to look for vices

to let my frustrations out.

Not thinking that I need anyone

to talk to this about.

So instead I grabbed some liqour

enough to put me to sleep

Or drink a drop of cold medicine.

to knock me off my feet.

And sometimes I'd get this feeling

of immense pain in my head.

And take two advils,

then to the world I was dead.

I'd let my demons drag me down,

and tell me it was okay.

That no one cared and I was worthless

and I'd believe what they'd say.

So I'd drink more of stolen liqour

and do what I knew was wrong.

But the allure of my demons was enticing

for they sung a hypnotic song.

So I kept letting them drag me down

and I never expected to get back up.

Just kept giving them my tears

to fill their never ending cup.

I sometimes chose to fight against them

thinking I don't want to let them in.

And then life takes a downwards turn

and I give in to them again.

And though this may be a time, when

 their power over me, is slowly but surely thinning.

Sometimes I can't help but feel,

my inner demons are winning.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Words are red because its painful to admit something is wrong but sometimes its necessary to get rid of some of this darkness.

View dreamingnightmares's Full Portfolio

Game - March 29, 2013

Stuck in this chaotic madness,

I can't tell wrong or right.

I'm yet to see an end to this.

I'm yet to stand up and fight.

They held me down and made me hurt.

They showed my shame until it burned.

I cannot stop their hateful game;

they won't stop until my last day.

I'm so far away from home.

I'm trapped, desperate, alone.

It can't stay going their way.

I'm done with being lost prey.

I tear the key from their wretched hands,

I unlock my shackles and break free.

My heart's breaking, you leave it in strands.

All that's left is the shame inside me.

I stand in my prison cell, ready to fight

for my pride, my lust, my simple human rights.

I'm a person, deserving freedom too.

I am disgusted by the one they call "You".

I raise my fist, my rights, my pride;

I strike down the foe that deny my life.

I erase you from this cold society

in hopes you'll see that I've set you free.

View unheilig's Full Portfolio

HELP!

Savoir Save Me!
Please don’t let me fall
Any more
Broken, dying on the floor
Desperate
I need you God!
Falling
Keep me from killing myself!
Failing
It’s all my fault
Hopeless
Six years of death every day
Dying
My conscience is seared
Lying
Just to white wash my tomb
Apathy
I forget how to feel
Loneliness
Are you still here?
This is all my fault
I’m the only one to blame
How do I get back in your arms again?
How can I be strength to another
When I am so weak?
How can I hold someone up
When I’m sliding
NO MORE!
HELP ME GOD
THIS WASN’T WHAT YOU WANTED
I’M MADE FOR SO MUCH MORE
HELP ME
Please…
Help me…..

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Steam

Steam by Ria J. Leon
_______________________________________
What stays but bruised remains
of flesh and blood and bone,
a storm, too violent for thought
and gruesome and grim as
dying alive, stalks me.
My vessel it takes, and haunts me,
fade from me, take this from me,
no time could help or wound to heal,
but as it drain my life and mind
My soul, always bright, dulls
and glimpsed so fleeting,
i cant be sure of it or sanity,
like fall from summer and winter from fall,
it wasn't real, how can memory be real?
This thirst, this thirst,
I cannot strive nor fair
the world if thirst is wrong
dream for me, my mind has gone,
The swirling colors and feeling forgotten
have left a mark upon my soul,
no price to pay, no song, no hope nor dream
just a fire turned to steam.

View rialeon's Full Portfolio