Julie's Poetry stuff.
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Julie's Poetry stuff.
I'm going to try to keep writing more things. And I'll keep them all on this thread if I do write more things. But for now, here's a poem. c:
Walls
My words seem so plastic.
My eyes, they never change.
My touch is always hesitant.
My heart will never be the same.
These walls I have built around me
They’re always in the way.
And now that I try to break them
I know they're here to stay.
The standards I set for myself
Are killing me in the end.
I honestly just want to feel
Some of those emotions again.
The happiness, the bliss,
Thankfulness, and love,
The positive feelings,
You can never get enough.
The sadness, the anger,
Frustration and hate,
I miss that bitter feeling,
Of my heart, about to break.
But I’m stuck feeling numb,
And that’s how it will always be.
Until these walls finally fall down,
And then I’ll be free.
My words seem so plastic.
My eyes, they never change.
My touch is always hesitant.
My heart will never be the same.
These walls I have built around me
They’re always in the way.
And now that I try to break them
I know they're here to stay.
The standards I set for myself
Are killing me in the end.
I honestly just want to feel
Some of those emotions again.
The happiness, the bliss,
Thankfulness, and love,
The positive feelings,
You can never get enough.
The sadness, the anger,
Frustration and hate,
I miss that bitter feeling,
Of my heart, about to break.
But I’m stuck feeling numb,
And that’s how it will always be.
Until these walls finally fall down,
And then I’ll be free.
ThisPainThing- Posts : 9
Join date : 2011-08-31
Age : 27
Location : USA
Re: Julie's Poetry stuff.
Cut
I can’t stop doing this.
I’ve tried so many times
But I always trip and fall,
And then I’m running for my knife.
I’d just drop the knife,
And hide it from myself,
But then I’d feel so much worse.
“Dear god, am I in hell?”
When I’m not scarring myself,
I’m my personal punching bag.
Constantly giving myself bruises,
Aiming for purple and black.
Or, there’s the fire
With the intense heat
And the way my body recoils,
It’s a rush that can’t be beat.
There are things to hurt me everywhere,
And no way to get away.
I know it’s kinda fucked up,
But I’ll keep reaching for the blade.
I can’t stop doing this.
I’ve tried so many times
But I always trip and fall,
And then I’m running for my knife.
I’d just drop the knife,
And hide it from myself,
But then I’d feel so much worse.
“Dear god, am I in hell?”
When I’m not scarring myself,
I’m my personal punching bag.
Constantly giving myself bruises,
Aiming for purple and black.
Or, there’s the fire
With the intense heat
And the way my body recoils,
It’s a rush that can’t be beat.
There are things to hurt me everywhere,
And no way to get away.
I know it’s kinda fucked up,
But I’ll keep reaching for the blade.
ThisPainThing- Posts : 9
Join date : 2011-08-31
Age : 27
Location : USA
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