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Literature Text
They say I spin
a web of lies,
but webs are for spiders.
They catch their flies.
No, my lies are mirrors,
each a different reflection.
They fill up my house,
my sinful collection.
Sometimes I get lost.
There's so much confusion.
Which ones are real?
Which are illusions?
I try to back track,
but the mirrors turn me around.
I cry out for help,
but the mirrors block the sound.
I give up.
Hang another mirror.
In this one I'm cruel and cold
on the exterior.
How many reflections
will I become?
Which one is real?
Where have I gone?
a web of lies,
but webs are for spiders.
They catch their flies.
No, my lies are mirrors,
each a different reflection.
They fill up my house,
my sinful collection.
Sometimes I get lost.
There's so much confusion.
Which ones are real?
Which are illusions?
I try to back track,
but the mirrors turn me around.
I cry out for help,
but the mirrors block the sound.
I give up.
Hang another mirror.
In this one I'm cruel and cold
on the exterior.
How many reflections
will I become?
Which one is real?
Where have I gone?
Literature
Asylum
Who are you?
Where are you?
What... are you?
The blinding white walls
Closing in on you
Trapping you
Drowning you.
Who are you?
Certainly not
yourself.
Certainly not that
happy little girl
jumping through fairy tales
as a sunset paints the silver sky.
Where are you?
Certainly not
home.
Definitely not where
you'd want to be.
What are you?
Certainly not
wanted.
Obviously not
needed.
Blood, scars, wounds.
Pain.
Torture.
All you see are shadows
In a room of white walls...
Literature
The Face At The Door
The face at the door is a demon, a god
He smiles through stitches, his stare rather odd
The face at the door is a cruel, silent being
Yet, people are calm, and the children aren't fleeing
Quiet yourself, for you're the only one
Crying for help at the point of a gun
Learn how to fly, rather, learn how to fall,
The face at the door... well... there's no face at all.
Literature
Bipolar Disorder
I am a victim of a shadow named fourteen
And a little girl, my old best friend who turned into a demon.
Fourteen human figures without a face… they attack my soul
And everybody’s staring at me without an honest reason.
I am a victim of the people of the world
Who only want to hurt me, and my innocent family
Terrified of the ones around me, even those I love
When a nightmare becomes my reality.
I can’t take a shower without peeking outside the curtain
And I can’t close my eyes when I wash my hair
Because I’m horrified, afraid that when I open them
I’ll see somebody with a bloody face angrily standing ther
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This came from today, where I had to lie A LOT. I don't like lying, but sometimes I have to. There are things that people just can't know about me, but sometimes i lose track of what's truth and what's a lie. It's terrifying at times.
© 2013 - 2024 lostmyslef
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wow amazing!