Broken LoveI broke my heartBroken Love by Waffles-Of-Gondolyn
I broke my heart
You said you'd come
You said you'd be
Here — for me.
I broke my heart
You didn't care
I thought you would
But no one could
I broke my heart
I lost my love
You were never there
You never cared.
I broke my heart.
Ghost-MommyA black-and-blue girl, three years old, playing in dirt.Ghost-Mommy by Waffles-Of-Gondolyn
...a knife in my hand, the sound of gunshots
...cannons booming and the sound of screams and the smell
of blood and ghosts crying "Mommy why did you go?"
and the knife shines bright and the girl is afraid,
and people chatter like birds in a tree,
...laughing, but I am staring at the black-and-blue girl and
...I watch her play in the dirt, smiling, for her ghost-mommy is always watching.
Mental Disorder Discrimination"You said you've got depression?Mental Disorder Discrimination by KlingelChelle
No you don't, you attention seeker.
You're just an average teenager with the perfect life
Desperately looking for sympathy."
Stop crying, you coward.
You're just a childish "scaredy-cat".
Blaming your problems on a mental disorder
That doesn't even exist."
"So you're schizophrenic?
Grow the hell up, and stop acting like a child
You're too old for imaginary friends
You callow, juvenile, little twit."
But if we're attention seekers,
Why do we try so hard to hide our feelings from the world?
Why do we isolate ourselves in our rooms,
Desperately hiding the cuts on our wrists
Trying our best to live a normal life?
And if we're simply "scaredy-cats",
Why is our fear so vividly intense?
Unlike simple fear, our anxiety will stick with us forever
A severe long-lasting feeling of powerful panic.
A feeling from which we'll never be free.
Suddenly we're childish for having a mental disorder?
Schizophrenia is not something we can control.
Your Eyes...Your Eyes... by I-TsarevichAlexei13
My dear one, what sadness have you seen?
Your eyes are like pools reflecting the screams...
They look back to the past where terror was high...
They venture forth into broken happiness.
My dear one, what terrors have you seen?
Your eyes express the horror unimaginable...
Your smile is limp and falls with your tears...
They mingle together in such strong a fear...
Dear one, how sad yours eyes what they have seen...
The terror and the plight and the screams...
Those pools reflecting those terrible nights...
The screams and cries torture thine right!
My dear one, what horror have ye witnessed?
The horror of life being extinguished...
Your eyes how they show what terror lay before...
The pain and the sorrow, the eyes show it strong...
My dear one, your eyes.. Limp with tears of the dark.
Trapped in that hurt and scarred from that mark.
Your eyes... How they shudder and wimper...
They have seen too much, too much for your soul to rest.
Your eyes my dear one... What have they se
The Trouble With Mirrorsthe other night I painted myselfThe Trouble With Mirrors by thebookofnights
like a murder scene
even left my own fingerprints on my skin
in tiny incarnadine whorls
and my reflection didn’t suspect a thing
when I was ten or eleven
the power went out in our house
and I took a candle
into the bathroom with me
so I could inspect
the shadows underneath my tongue
I had a friend once
who gave me a toast:
“when you stand in front of a mirror, may it be
as a conqueror putting on warpaint,
as a child playing with her face,
or as a lover waiting for a return.”
but I’m still afraid of that last, because
if I dare look into my own eyes,
I see that there are oceans in them
and I think it might be possible