My reminder to you
Everything is a paradox, remember that. There is always good in the bad. Keep going, you'll make it through.
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Today's Document
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@altkittykay19
My reminder to you
Everything is a paradox, remember that. There is always good in the bad. Keep going, you'll make it through.
Why the hell do we bother to write? None of these thoughts are our own And these stories we tell Were once told not so long ago. There is not one thought Or sentence That is our own. Yet we look to these thoughts As if they are unique And will one day build us a throne.
Written world; Not So Average Poetry
Full version now available on wattpad.com
I can’t breathe. I’m trapped, Slowly suffocating And wallowing in silent screams. These walls are a prison, Never letting me escape. I swear they are talking. The voices in them call my name. All my insecurities and demons Are built into them, But everything is still the same. There’s no color left. Just a pale white, A white that makes me sick And they remind me of death, Like in a hospital, When you here cries echo through the halls. My eyes blur the walls together Through glistening tears. They seem to be closing in on me. The corners disappearing And the 4 walls meshing Becoming a circular cage. I just want to escape, Before I break. See the outside world And touch the light. Who knew such pure walls Could contain the darkest secrets. My mind is slowly starting to fail me. Violent islands consuming my psych, But rather than killing my mind I just become numb inside. I stare at the walls. They’ve held me captive for so long And the voices in them are still growing louder. What will happen when I can’t take it? When it becomes so loud , That it’s silent in this room? When the white walls finally diminish, What will happen? Where will I go? What will I feel? Is that freedom? Or did the darkness finally possess me?
White Walls; Not So Average Poetry.
My first full version poem on here
Never trust a mirror Cause it only tells lies What it shows is not how the world sees you And in a world full of labels An inanimate object should not define you
Never trust a mirror; Not So Average Poetry
This counting became an obsession I’d start to count all the stars And all the fake smiles I’d see And when I ran out of things to count I began to count all my flaws I looked in the mirror and the number began to rise But you see I hate big numbers They make me sick That’s the day the meaning of counting changed for me I began to count calories And when the number got too high I’d become ill And then reset the number back to 0
Counting; Not So Average Poetry.
Just breathe. There’s still a flicker of hope in you. You can change it all around. Those scars may never fade, And there are now marks on your heart, But those only make a better story. Get rid of the thoughts of suicide. Don’t do it cause you’ve hit your low. No. this is an exit sign at a show, that’s not just bad enough to leave. All these mistakes and the sadness, It’s just old worn paint, But that can be covered up. You see if you kill yourself you take away all the old paint. Then everything will be gone. And when you finally reach your high, Promise you still will ditch those deadly mind games, When your at your high just remember Holy shiz, I have so much to live for, I’ve come this far. Darling I promise you will get through this.
Remember; Not So Average Poetry
Nobody cares! Those words consume your mind. But darling you don’t see how everyone cares, In the rhythm of time.
Nobody Cares; Not So Average Poetry.
Late at night his thoughts drift. His life no more than a piece of paper floating to the ground. He doesn’t want to fall away. He just wants someone to catch his breath. He might not be great with words But he paints the most colorful pictures. That’s his escape.
An escape; Not So Average Poetry
I know that late at night you pray; Pray that someone will look beyond your smile And see into those eyes. See the person that’s trapped behind bars And the mind swarmed with demons. Maybe they’ll see the thoughts that swarm your head, Or all the ideas of death.
Eyes, Smiles, and Lies; Not So Average Poetry
Remember how you said you would call? How you’d never let yourself go down alone? Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you call!
Midnight; Not So Average Poetry
We wish upon the stars Maybe once a wish will come true But we are taught not to have dreams We are taught not to wish upon the stars Cause those stars we wish upon Died so many years ago We waste our dreams And watch them die
Dead Dreams; Not So Average Poetry
That’s the thing with recovery, We never fully recover. —Not until we’re dead, because those thoughts never leave our heads.
Cracks lead to pain; Not so average poetry