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Post by spaniel on Sept 8, 2010 2:27:33 GMT -5
...but I've always envied people who could turn their mental illness into art, so I decided to give it a try. Please give your criticisms.
It is three in the morning And I am in a dark room, so humid from secretion Of false pleasure and the emotion lying beneath And my face is lit by a portal to too many people in the world And everything is gone And I'm melting And I can't solidify again, despite being too frozen to the world And I'm drifting like a gas Despite melting and being frozen I don't know who I am anymore Why am I still alive Why am I still alive My fingers ache, typing this small testament I can't do anything anymore I can't survive Why am I still alive Why am I here I can't see what anything is anymore Why is this planet here anymore I'm strangled and starved I'm soaked and bloated By defeat and world and why am i alive any more and why am i here any more and why does no one know and i am trapped by our world and i am more dead than alive and everything is toppling in on itself and everything is the same and no fire is beautiful anymore and i could burn and burn and never feel it these are my last days and it all feels like nothing Why am I still alive Why am I still alive
No one would care If I were no longer here And I can despair about my personal fears And I'm afraid that I'll die But I'm embracing it as well No one would cry If I finally fell Why am I still alive Why am I still alive
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Post by spaniel on Sept 20, 2010 21:05:11 GMT -5
More depression-related poetry.
Sadness becomes me. Is this all I can be? Depression is my only personality.
I have no self-esteem. Did I once have hopes and dreams? Everything holding me is tearing at the seams.
I need to finally fall apart. Sadness is my only art. I have no ideas, just a broken heart.
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Post by tolpuddlemartyr on Sept 27, 2010 7:00:34 GMT -5
Fuckin' hell, I dunno. Wish I could offer you a cup of tea or a hug or something.
The imagry in the first one was quite effective!
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