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  1. MaxieTofu MaxieTofu
    posted a quote
    March 11, 2020 10:11pm UTC
    ▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌

    Once again, I find myself at the end of a blade.

    ▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌

  2. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    April 14, 2014 3:34pm UTC
    the first program i saw on my new television was a
    warning-sign, reality-check cold-water slap
    on the coffee table.
    It was a documentary about a troubled family--
    the boy blamed his mother
    his mother blamed the father
    and the father, well the father
    wasn't around to blame anyone,
    except in bruises, cuts and most painful
    silence. sometimes, wounds heal,
    but leave scars like imprints of each word
    spearing the skin in anger, and even
    confrontational therapy does not help,
    because you don't know hate until you
    hate the people you love,
    and you don't know love until you
    love the people you hate and,
    "boys dont cry.
    boys aren't weak.
    get up!"
    Gangmates and gateway drugs unlatched
    doors to him that
    let him have the illusion of free
    but in reality, when the covalent bonds of
    self hatred and self destruction collide
    with new-found hope in hopeless plants, hopeless situations,
    the result is deadlier, and more unforgiving than
    your own father threatening to end you with a knife
    three times in a row
    "get up, boys dont cry!"
    Sure, he was intoxicated but drunks words are sober
    thoughts, they say, a waste of space, you are thrash;
    i am thrash, the
    boy scrawled in the sand, the same way
    others draw hearts.
    And he was angry, so angry. So guilty and full
    of shame,
    had a deep rooted sadness that
    could be shovelled out from his chest like soil.
    maybe we can never get rid of it completely
    but we can change it, plant new seeds where old
    weeds decomposed; they said the hardest part is
    letting yourself be helped and be rerooted, they said the
    hardest part is deciding what to plant, where to re-soil
    yourself.
    Because bad thoughts are like dominoes, kid,
    one falls and the rest follow.
    they are the pungent
    smell of decaying words--"get up! boys aren't weak!"
    Thing is, he did get up:
    he got up in the mornings when
    the world screamed symphonies of loathing at him;
    he got up when words whizzed past, merely inches
    from hitting nerves;
    he got up like there was fire at his heels;
    he got up when he discovered boys cancry.
    Sometimes, all you need is time,
    too bad documentaries only last an
    hour.
    (SH)
    format by Cosima2

  3. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    March 30, 2014 1:56pm UTC
    In the spring of last year,
    we tried to grow summer
    in our ribcages,
    And by october, the leaves
    had already wilted down
    to our stomachs.
    They decomposed doubly fast,
    and we blamed it on the PH,
    since we didn't know any better.
    Come winter,
    we look after everything except our
    lungs,
    (it burns like gasoline)
    Because we're too scared of burning
    each other,
    terrified that if we let our happiness go beyond
    What we know,
    let it burst like rainbow gas through our lungs
    spreading, spreading through our veins like blood
    with each heartbeat the sound of your feet
    on the pavement.
    If we let our joy consume us,
    one day, it will end shrink doubly fast,
    and this time,
    we won't have the PH to blame
    (SH)(format by cosima2--all credit to her :) )

  4. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    March 1, 2014 5:04pm UTC
    other poets write about unrequited love,
    and slit-worthy wrists stained
    and cherry lips that leave blossoms
    on each cheek they brush.
    other poets write about missing the
    person who makes you feel like
    youre on fire, and each touch just
    ignites you further.
    other poets write about hurt so deep
    the oceans wave in jealousy; hurt
    caused by men that smoke death sticks
    and always leave their ashes by the bedside.
    other poets write how waking up to an empty
    house with only peaches as apology notes
    ring like high pitched screams in caves or
    maybe just car alarms.
    other poets write about the clandestine loves
    with firework-cracker girls tracing entire
    witty novels on kitchen countertops using
    only their matchstick fingertips.
    i write about how peaches rot so quickly;
    how missing someone who doesnt
    exist is the worst form
    of loneliness;
    how i have no voices in my mind
    but have a lifetime of undone
    experiences to unravel and no words
    to cut you with.
    i write about unstable introverts,
    who believe 2am is no different
    to any other go.ddam.n hour of the day.
    i write poems in the form of compulsive liars,
    because truth is,
    im not a poet all all.
    (SH)

  5. SANDD* SANDD*
    posted a quote
    February 4, 2014 9:11am UTC
    Irresistible

  6. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    February 2, 2014 4:22pm UTC
    It's 2pm on a Wednesday; you don't feel like
    talking, so we sit in silence
    staring at the static on your tv, like
    it's our favourite show.
    You're cross-legged eating custard creams
    and milky tea,
    I'm perched on the edge of your sofa, my
    hands clenched in my pockets
    As if its -2 outside.
    But -2 is the average temperature of sadness,
    And we're not sad, we're only
    falling apart at the seams.
    What else do you expect from
    worn-out teens?
    the custard cream
    drops into your tea, the static screen
    turns electric blue;
    the power's out and the feelings, too.
    You cry; I pretend it's laughter and
    I laugh along
    'til the noise leaks out of my eyes.
    You say, "they come no matter
    what, don't they?"
    That's why we laugh when
    the shutters rattle,
    and I laugh when your fist
    makes contact with my face,
    at the old cracks
    along your wrist,
    when the tea mug
    shatters,
    and I laugh when our 'friendship'
    does the same.
    -(S.H)

  7. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    December 11, 2013 4:17pm UTC
    The first time he left me,
    I convinced myself it was
    because he ran out of fuel
    halfway through his journey
    to mars, and me,
    and the only way was to leave.
    The next time he left me,
    he fed me excuses like soup
    about how he'd conquered entire
    planets, and defeated aliens,
    So he could be here,
    And left basking in my guilt.
    The third time, I found,
    he'd tried to bring me the sun
    as an apology, and singed
    his hand as a proof,
    and a one-way ticket to apology.
    Fourth--well, I believed it was
    the fault of the orbit, of the timing,
    of the chance,
    of everything but him.
    The last time he left me,
    I cut off his radar
    and told him if he pressed
    the red "emergency" button this time,
    he'd only be greeted with
    static.
    -(SH)
    Format by Breeze

  8. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    December 7, 2013 12:07pm UTC
    Today, I woke up from
    Dreams of you,
    To the buzzing sound
    Of a moth burning to
    Death on a lightbulb
    Above my bed.
    And I couldn't help but think,
    It was because the moth
    Went for something that
    Wanted to shine way too bright
    To see anything, anything, in front of it.
    And we all know that only leads to
    Self-destruction.
    At 03:07 sharp, every piece of the jigsaw puzzle
    Fell into place,
    And it turns out the picture
    Is not of you
    But a moth silhouette
    Hanging off the lightbulb,
    Daring to think it belongs.
    But what's the difference anyway?
    Every shadow still seems to spell out
    "Get over it"
    -(Sh)

  9. sheyennemari3 sheyennemari3
    posted a quote
    December 5, 2013 11:02am UTC
    "Wrists are for bracelets, not for cutting."
    -Kellin Quinn

  10. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    October 1, 2013 3:08pm UTC
    Red-rimmed Eyes
    As I was waiting for the
    number 51 bus to arrive
    after school, I noticed something:
    sitting on the bus shelter seats
    was a boy with dejected eyes,
    red-rimmed, like glasses.
    That was the September school began,
    and summer ended.
    Everyday till July,
    I saw him there, but
    lacked the guts to say hello,
    since sadness and sadness don't
    cancel each other out;
    his eyes still as hollow
    as the first time I saw them.
    As the year went on, he
    changed from being simply
    a sad boy to something worse:
    I swear, occasionally, there were flecks
    of pure hatred in those eyes
    when his face reflected off the side
    of the grimy windows, but maybe
    that was just the light..
    He hardly ever looked up,
    and you could never tell whether
    he's had an okay-day.
    Once he smiled at me, and I
    shone like glow worm for the week after.
    In the summer, we no longer
    caught sight of each other,
    but when autumn came creeping around,
    he was there again, like home.
    The sad truth of it is, summer had changed
    a lot in me, and I had other
    worries to think about..
    One day turned into one week,
    the bus shelter seat sat empty,
    with an odd silence around it
    like an aura marinating in it's change.
    On friday, the local newspaper came through
    my letterbox; its thump reminding me
    curiously of a heartbeat. My father opened
    it up and I caught a glimpse on the second
    page, top right, about a boy with dejected eyes,
    red-rimmed, like glasses,
    who decided he couldn't take it anymore
    when he looked up for the last time
    and the clouds cried in his face.
    But allI thought of that humid night
    was why he'd drawn a bus shelter
    on the bathroom mirror
    exactly opposite where he'd taken the
    pills.
    October came around too soon, and at
    halloween, all the ghosts seemed to be of you,
    and I gave them all my sweets, as if that
    could be enough to bring back something of you.
    But I never cried, I should have,
    And I never cried, I should have.
    -SH
    (brighterthananyone's format)

  11. josie* josie*
    posted a quote
    October 1, 2013 12:00pm UTC
    *****
    We cut flowers because we think they're beautiful but we cut ourselves because we think were not?
    *****
    Format by Sandrasaurus

  12. *♥ synchronicity ♥* *♥ synchronicity ♥*
    posted a quote
    August 26, 2013 5:24pm UTC
    "If fighting could provide us with the truth, nobody would make any mistakes in their lives. A person's life is not that easy. The truth you must learn from yourself, from how you live your life."

  13. Jennaa_Smiith Jennaa_Smiith
    posted a quote
    August 1, 2013 10:36pm UTC
    She just sat there,
    no smile,
    no sparkle iin her eyes,
    nothing.
    She wasn't happy,
    but she wasn;t sad either.
    She was numb.
    You see,
    when you've been hurt enough times,
    that's all there is left.
    As if you're physically there,
    but your soul was just watching.
    You can't say anything.
    You can't do anything.
    You're just, t h e r e.
    I guess you can't really understand until
    it hapens to you,
    and that's the worst part.
    No one truley understands.
    You're basically numb,
    until you're in bed at night,
    middle of the night,
    just laying there,
    still numb,
    and your mind starts to wander..
    all the things you've messed up on,
    every mistake,
    every time someone's called you a name,
    the pain is worse than emotional..
    you begin feeling physical pain.
    You don't know what to do to make it stop.
    You lay there clutching your chest,
    tangled up in the blankets,
    your music's hopefully playing louder than your muffled whimpers..
    I guess it all depends how strong you are mentally,
    of what happens next..
    -JLS 8/1/13
    I wrote this. Please don't steal without credit and please let me know if you do. Thankyou, :)

  14. dolph* dolph*
    posted a quote
    July 14, 2013 6:34am UTC
    Hippies
    They wanna save the earth but tbh all the do is smoke pot and smell bad

  15. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    June 8, 2013 2:44pm UTC
    Perhaps it's a feeling--
    I don't know if it is a feeling,
    Because not everyone can feel,
    Like you.
    Perhaps it's a sound--
    Because not everyone can interpret
    What they hear in the same way,
    As you.
    Perhaps it's nothing--
    I don't know if it is nothing,
    Because even that is something
    To you.
    I guess it's just something in the
    Atmosphere that makes it seem
    Like you're in a dream
    This cloudless night.
    (SH)

  16. josie* josie*
    posted a quote
    May 30, 2013 5:25pm UTC
    Self harm is not a cry for attention.
    Self harm is a cry for help.

  17. Onism* Onism*
    posted a quote
    May 22, 2013 3:38pm UTC
    I'm going to line up all your fears
    Neatly on a shelf
    In labelled glass jars
    Filled with vinegar
    To preserve their dormant state.
    (Now you can look them straight in the face)
    I'm going to s c a t t e r all your deeds
    In a transparent cabinet
    With black velvet to cushion you
    And showcase all you have done
    (To yourself, to him, to her and everyone)
    I'm going to gather all your putrescent bones
    To mask them as treasure
    In an unsettling sea of your own
    Acidic blood,
    So you can finally be a fossil.
    And the only thing that will matter is
    All you were will last forever,
    (Just like the consequence of your action)

  18. EmilyxLovesxU EmilyxLovesxU
    posted a quote
    April 13, 2013 3:04pm UTC
    Self harm isn't just cutting.

  19. EmilyxLovesxU EmilyxLovesxU
    posted a quote
    April 4, 2013 10:09pm UTC
    I killed a girl.
    She was happy, friendly and full of life.
    She didn't deserve to die.
    I killed her a little more each day until she was finally gone.
    I cut her skin until it was covered in scars.
    I starved her of food and called her fat.
    The sad thing is no one stopped me.
    I didn't do it by myself,
    Lots of people helped.
    I do regret killing her, but it's done.
    The funny thing is:
    The girl I killed used to be me.

  20. wowurcrazy wowurcrazy
    posted a quote
    February 20, 2013 5:39pm UTC
    come on now,
    I thought we talked about this.
    I thought we fixed it.
    I thought you wern't going to do it anymore.
    but you did.
    and I saw.
    and... I'm scared for you....
    can someone who's had problems with depression/self harm help me out? he's one of my best friends, I don't want him to feel like he has to hurt himself or anything ever again
    ...please...

:)

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