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Literature Text
Are you blind to my misery,
Or do you choose not to look?
I want to share my story,
But you close me like a book.
I'm screaming as I cry,
But you refuse to hear.
Look away as I die,
Ignore each little tear.
Am I not loud enough?
Is that why you ignore my scream?
My life is tough,
Help me escape this bad dream.
I scream a bit higher.
Please, I need your help!
My circumstances are dire.
I'm losing myself.
But you do not help me,
And I've decided to give up.
Maybe then you'll see.
Ha! That's just my luck.
Or do you choose not to look?
I want to share my story,
But you close me like a book.
I'm screaming as I cry,
But you refuse to hear.
Look away as I die,
Ignore each little tear.
Am I not loud enough?
Is that why you ignore my scream?
My life is tough,
Help me escape this bad dream.
I scream a bit higher.
Please, I need your help!
My circumstances are dire.
I'm losing myself.
But you do not help me,
And I've decided to give up.
Maybe then you'll see.
Ha! That's just my luck.
Literature
Wish for Privacy
I live behind a locked door,
And no one has the key.
It has been years, maybe more
Since someone talked to me.
The solitude was nice at first,
The quiet let me think.
But soon it took a turn for worse—
Now all I do is blink.
So be careful, my dear friends,
When you wish for privacy.
Count to 5 when patience bends
Or you'll end up just like me.
Literature
I'm Only Human
I'm only human
I make mistakes
Yet I'm always trying
To save some face
I'm only human
I lie and I cheat
Yet I will never
Admit defeat
I'm only human
I whine and I cry
But it doesn't mean
That I won't try
I'm only human
I make mistakes
But I give it my all
No matter what it takes
Literature
Colorblind
I gave away my name today
and it might be a metaphor, but I think
we only remember the quietest suicides
the walls are thin enough to listen
as the angels try to scratch free;
bloodied fingernails and God says everyone
screws up, sometimes
I'm waiting for a silent night.
I only ever believed in solid ground
and depressions' tides, and sometimes,
those little wounds I nursed deep
within my vocal chords (because
my voice is dying, too)
I can see the beautiful people, now
overdosing on their own opiums of
self-acquittal and dissolution
they ran out of ways to ask for help.
I'm fragile, but my glass ribs
aren't holding much
and
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I wrote this today, my first submission since i got sick. Hope you like it.
© 2013 - 2024 lostmyslef
Comments23
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I love it! Reminds me of my struggle with SI back in highschool. My friends blew my cuts off as not a big deal (even though I outright told them that they were the reason I was doing this to myself). I love it when honest people who don't even know me can take my feelings and express them in a non-sugar coated poem. You seem like a real person (like not fake) who knows how to express real ideas and like me isn't afraid to speak their mind and say the things that most people are afraid to hear.