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HappinessHappiness is a word that can't be defined.
It can't found, created or mined.
It's not like a trophy that you sit on a shelf.
It's simply something you achieve in yourself.
It's given to those who truly deserve.
Those willing to listen or willing to serve.
To people who struggle more than the norm.
To people who curse the day they were born.
It's given to those who kept up the fight.
Who didn't give up the search for the light.
Who didn't give in to the rusty old knife.
It's given to those who only know strife.
Many deserve it, many indeed.
Many deserve to finally be freed.
But I'm not one of them, oh no I am not.
I know there's a reason but I sadly forgot.
I've tried to win the gift of hope.
Tried to avoid the gun and the rope.
Tried to avoid the pills and the knife.
But I am not strong enough for this life.
I will never win happiness; I don't belong.
Happiness is only for those who are strong.
So I'll continue to cut, and suffer, and cry.
I continue to whisper the simple word, "Why?"
Only Takes OneIt only took a single cut.
One slit upon her skin.
That one tiny little cut,
Shows the pain that she was in.
I hold her tiny hand in mine,
As tears escape my eyes.
Why didnt I just listen?
To her desperate little cries?
I look at her in agony.
I re-read the note she wrote.
All it took was one small cut,
To open her small throat.
I try to stop the bleeding,
But it's too late, she's dead.
I start to read the note once more,
This is what she said:
"Dear family and dear friends,
Life is too hard for me.
It only takes one single cut,
To set my spirit free.
"With a heavy heart I state-
That this is my final day.
I will miss you all so much,
That is all I wish to say."
My dearest friend is dead.
Her life on Earth is done.
I cant believe that she is gone,
And all it took was one.
Don't CryI want to cut it out,
Cause new damage to my skin.
I want to see my other half,
See the pain I hold within.
I trusted you to help me,
I trusted you to care.
And everytime I need you most,
You are never there!
Well, I hope you're happy.
For today my life is done.
I'm glad that I have met you,
This short time has been real fun.
I know you do not love me,
So I press the blade against my wrist,
I just want to make you happy;
Even if I can't exist.
I grab the rusty blade,
And slice right to the bone.
The reason for me doing so,
Is that you left me all alone.
You walked away from me,
Knowing I was gonna die.
You saw me with my knife,
Why did you leave? Just why?
Now I am forever bleeding,
I see you walk back through the door.
"I'm sorry my dear friend,
I couldn't take it anymore."
You apologise and hold me,
I whisper, "Please don't cry.
I know you're only faking,
I just need to bleed and die."
You yell, "I am so sorry!
Is there something I can do?"
I whisper, "No one can save me.
No one, not
Can You hear me?Can you hear me screaming?
Can you hear me cry?
Can you hear me begging?
Will you let me die?
Do you even care about me?
Do you love me at all?
Will you help me up, my friend?
Or will you let me fall?
Can you hear me begging?
Are you listening my friend?
Can you hear me dying?
Will you let me reach my end?
I'm so lost without you,
I've lost my path on life.
Will you please just help me?
Please, just take my knife...
Can you hear me dying?
Are you even there?
Can you hear me breathing?
Do you even care?
I lost a war my friend.
A war with a cold knife.
The rusty blade has won,
The blade ended my life.
Can you hear me breathing?
No, because I'm not.
Did you hear my final words?
I asked why you forgot...
Why did you forget me, friend?
Why did you let me die?
You said you'd always listen,
But you never heard me cry....
War With MyselfI write to keep my sanity,
I write to help me mend.
But lately writing is not enough,
I feel I'm near the end.
My mind has reached a block,
And I switched my pen for a sharp blade.
Writing down my feelings hurt,
It just makes me more afraid.
As I write my biggest fears,
I trigger pain inside my past.
I want to take this metal blade,
And end the pain at last.
I'm not good enough for living,
I deserve to die tonight.
I can't push on anymore,
Today I'll stop the fight.
This is my final poem,
My pen's now on the floor.
My mind is blocked, just one way out -
I must end this war.
Hush My ChildHush now my child, please don't make a sound.
No one will ever hear you, for no one is around.
No one cares for you, they dont care if you cry.
No one will ever love you, we all want you to die.
Hush now my child, please don't start to weep.
Please just shut your mouth, please just go to sleep.
You're crying is annoying, it's going through my head.
Please just stop complaining, obey and go to bed!
Hush now my child, everything will be okay.
I have no plans for you, atleast not for today.
Do not be afraid, everything will be alright.
Please just shut your eyes, please go to sleep tonight.
Hush now my child, i'm getting sick of you!
All you do is cry, that's all you ever do!
I'm done with all these tears, you see?
I hate that you're afraid of me!
Hush now my child, you're gonna make me shout!
Please will you just tell me, what is this about?
Oh, you hate me when I drink? You hate it when im near?
The smell of drunken breath, fills you with great fear?
Hush now my child, I'll end your fea
HauntedI see her there with
Coal dust carved
Into the icy skin
Under her eyes,
And on her lips
Dance a chorus
Of bitter lies.
A skeletal hand of smoke
Claws at my neck
Until I bleed;
She tells me that the pain
Is just what I need.
And her blood
Zooms in her veins
Like speeding cars.
She looks at me
At what I am.
She’s a snake,
In the guise
Of a lamb.
‘What happened to us?’
Of what I used to be.
‘I may be you,
But you are not me.’
The sun comes up:
Yesterday is gone
But see it this way;
The past is part of the future
But the future isn’t the past.
You choose which bits go,
You choose which bits last.
I Saw a Burning ManIn front of my house, he sat.
Skin burnt off, now charred and black.
Hesitantly, I walked outside.
And he followed me with his watery eyes.
With steps as nimble as the snow,
I hid my fear and continued to go.
Now before him, the Burning Man.
I kindly offered him my shaky hand.
No malice nor vice leaked off of him,
rather sadness and agony which simmered below his skin.
I could feel it around me, the pain and despair,
yet, physically the man was nearly repaired.
For his scorched skin was not his problem,
instead the bottled emotions that devoured all of him.
“Would you like to come inside sir, and stay?”
In which he replied by looking away.
Again I asked, and received no reply,
and was startled when the man began to cry.
Unsure of what to do, I walked away,
Yet I’ll never forget what happened that day.
Be it from pain, or mute, or undisclosed desires,
I watched as the man was engulfed in fire.
I stood back in awe, with my mouth agape,
and feared that he had fallen into
little victories.when i was younger,
i thought i was the strongest
little girl in the world
because i could easily
beat my older brother
at arm wrestling.
it wasn't until years later
that i realized
And There Was Lighti.
He was seventeen when he died.
I never went to the funeral
but I walked past it the day of
the service. His mother
was in the backseat of a blue Dodge,
door open, head in her hands.
"My baby," she kept repeating.
"My baby." It would go from sobbing, to
screaming, to a soft whisper that
I could only hear being carried
on the wind.
It was a Wednesday afternoon that they found
his old red pickup truck parked
out front of Slim's, two beer bottles in
the back and the windows cracked to let the stale
I heard that his dad told the police he was
gonna take that old truck and fix it up, because
he had promised his son before—
because it's always in the before—
And in the after, his mother never had dry eyes
and I'm pretty sure my mom told me
that she saw his dad at the bar every night,
drinking his sorrows down because some people can't
handle the stress.
Some people can't figure out why their son would
"Some men just want to w
in which I gain sentiencesave room
for doubt, in the silence between
religious guilt and stolen
body heat. I am made of helium.
in my dreams they
pop me and
watch me flutter. I wonder if everyone
else’s head is so congested as mine,
hyperactive with inattentive people.
you are never serious--
he stares at me in a different
set of eyes; there are words
I cannot say, there are
things I cannot tell you.
(twice a week
I watch the people I love
leave me for good.
spiders in my throat,
You Ever Felt ItHave you ever felt it?
When you lay there broken
And feel yourself so guilty
Eyes gushing red
And you want to sleep in a coma
Your brain swelling with thoughts
At the same time empty with nothing
When you can't suit yourself
And see yourself a place among the demons
that moment when you control your life
The moment when you choose between life and death
And then you yourself can decide either way
It's when you're on the edge
And want someone to pull you back before you make another step
A hook, to rip all the insanity out of your body
And suck all the madness that is growing black dead trees
Have you ever felt it, have you known depression
Did you ever seek a source of help, and did you ever find it
1:33 amto the angry young
hungry ocean eyes:
i do not wish to know
what crawled inside
your ribs to
i just wish you would
let it leave.
Evil at NightThese feelings they haunt me throughout the night
Giving me nightmares and giving me fright
Its hard to sleep when Evil is near
Watching me closely as I fill with fear
Laughing out loudly, and calling me names
Its all just part of all his horrible games
He yanks at my memories, and look through my past
He laughs as I beg for this not to last
I hold my head tightly, as tears fill my eyes
Remembering everything from truth to the lies
Evil, he laughs as my heart cries in pain
He laughs as I'm slowly just going insane
These feelings they haunt me throughout the night
Giving me nightmares when I turn out the light
I can not sleep because Evil is here
Watching me closely as I fill with fear....
Abandoned ChapelThe parish waits now,
the loneliness of corners
crawling outward on walls--
chipped away by the wind,
and held together
by silk spindles;
cobwebs align them like the membranes of memories,
the cut of a jewel in an broken window
against the sun
where beads of rain
gather in a mesh of strands
a new Mosaic
against the backdrop of a cemetery;
My eyes seek out the sermon
in close proximity,
paint no distance
between headstone and cloud;
elegies topple each other
in their climb to heaven
as light trickles
over the shade,
breathes a new glow over snuffed candles.
I feel the weight in these empty rows,
how a breath couldn't cease to be breath
in the midst of prayer.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More