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You don't just die.Do you understand?
The blade against your wrist
Doesn't just slice your skin.
It cuts through others
Hearts
Souls
And sanity.

Do you understand?
You don't just kill yourself.
You kill everyone.
Everyone dies
Everyone cries
Everyone suffers
From YOUR goodbyes.

Do you understand?
You don't just die.
You take everyone down
With you.

I wish...I wish I was a monster
So I could be kind
And break the stereotypes.

I wish I was colored
So I could respect people
And break the stereotypes.

I wish I was a man
So I could be kind to women
And break the stereotypes.

I wish I had male friends
So we could all be..
Just friends
And break the stereotypes.

I wish I had autism
So I could prove that autism,
Does NOT mean "dumb".
And I could break the stereotypes.

I wish I could change the world.
But sometimes, you can't break a stereotype.

Only stereotypes, can break you.

I wonderI wonder who’d care
If I’d crash and burn
At this very moment.

Because
I no longer do.

Because
I no longer have the fight in me,
Like an engine without oil,
I’m out of juice.

I feel cold.
Numb.
I wonder what’s wrong with me.

I wonder why I’m still here.

I wonder about these tears rolling down my cheeks,
I wonder if they’re a sign.

I wonder if I've given up.
I feel as though I have.

And yet
My body’s still moving
Drawing haggard breaths
That rattle into my aching, empty skull.

I wonder why.

Lingerhow can i move forward,
when the fingerprints of my insecurities
are still lingering within my chest,
pressing against my ribs like piano keys?
i am just waiting, for the day,
when the saddest parts of me
are overcome with songs of serenity.

Pretty Blue PillsPretty blue pills,
shiny in my palm,
the ticket to my peace,
to my eternal calm.

They're so perfectly round,
and soon they'll be in me.
The closest to perfect
that I'll ever be.

They go down so smooth.
Five, ten, fifteen and twenty.
Soon I'll be gone.
Twenty-five and Thirty.

That should be enough,
but I'll play it safe.
Thirty-five and forty.
Now I have no more to take.

The bottle is empty,
as empty as I feel.
None of this is happening,
too good to be real.

But soon I start to drift
into a dark unknown fog.
Somewhere quite distantly.
I hear a muffled sob.

But I blow it off as fake.
Nobody could possibly care.
I doubt anyone's noticed
th

PhantomWhen life
or fate
or whatever it is
that puts things together
and takes them apart...
when It
amputated you,
it left me
with a phantom
limb
and you are still attached
to my body
when I dance
and make love
alone

ten ways this breakup isn't meant for the movies1.
you go out for twelve eggs and come back
with half a dozen and a new girlfriend.
you hold the eggs out to me like
six dead birds is enough of a peace offering.

2.
i push the eggs out of your hand and stay
with my hand over your heart as i watch them
fall. if they do not hit the ground, this is all a dream.

3.
the eggs smash on the tile and splatter
on the cherry wood cabinets, newly installed
that cost me two paychecks.

3.
the egg whites hit your leather shoes that
you’ve worn for two months straight
because you think they make you look more sophisticated.

3.
the egg whites hit the fridge halfway up, barely touching
the moose mag

Dear friend,You have to understand, dear
The reason to why I run.
I run away from reality
From the lungs that cannot
Take anymore smoke
From the heart that threatens to
Stop...
I run away because
I'm a coward
Because I'm afraid of life
Afraid to care or love.
I'm afraid that every time
I'm glad it blows up in my face
And that every time I smile
I shed a million more tears.
That's why I run, dear
You have to understand.
I was destined to be a fighter but
I don't want to fight anymore.
I was destined to be a warrior
But how am I supposed to win when
The war I fight is against life itself?
I know that I always blow everything up but-
I keep stepping on mines, dear...
...I keep stepping on mines...

ellipsisshe goes to sleep
clawing at her chest with pinpoint accuracy
for an emptiness she can’t describe,
but hates all the same. tomorrow

she will write a letter: “dear boy,
i always wanted to be somebody’s
flowery poem, but the verses carved in my arms
are riddled with ugly clichés. & you are why

i don’t sleep through the night. if
we were a language, i was the
subordinating conjunction, you were

the punctuation.

i remember you in staccato
conclusions, solemn absences
of goodbye”

brain squealsI beat depressions in the earth
for my brain squeals and waves
that burst in my wet ears
until something makes me drown.
I will. (again) V.

Virginia,

put rocks in pockets
and walk right in --
I'll drink your overcoat
until your throat weeps
and your soaked hair
weighs you down.

I promise.

with love,
Ouse.

P.S.
brain squeals are from cold sweats
sleep well.

I am notI’m not your little boy.
You’re not my little girl.
I’m just someone you met,
And wants to change the world
I’m not the prince in your dreams
I don’t have smarts or might
I’m just the one that screams
And cries to sleep at night
I’m not who you want me to be.
I will never be what you are.
I’m myself, I am free.
I’m not ashamed of my scars
I’m not that weak
You’re not that strong
You still have company
But I’m still alone
So I speak
Though this poem.
It’s not a pretty love song
I’m just saying what pains me, explaining what’s going on.
Because I am not perfect,
I’m not retarded,
I’m just like you,
Broken Hearted
Never forget,
There is always a reason to be
And I won’t regret
I’m always happy to be me.

TearsI am not afraid to cry.

I am not afraid for you to see the tears

My tears.

Don’t tell me I have no heart.

Don’t tell me I have no soul.

For without them I could not cry.

You may not see my tears but they are there.

I have learned to let myself cry for the things I’ve loved,

For the things I’ve lost.

They are silent tears, but they are mine.

So let me cry.

Let me show you I have a heart.

Let the things that touch my heart be shown through my tears.

I am not afraid to cry.

then i burst into flames and fell i heard your cosmic blow

crack the crusted knuckles

of his hands

and

lodge itself into the mantle

of the world i cradl

Skylapse

And now I finally see-
The true face of faith that I once held so dearly

This sensation is somewhat familiar-
My thick tears become entangled

I clench my trembling fists-
As a regretful prayer exits my tainted lips
-
Blindly lead down this beaten path!
Reaching the end forces me to despise the past

Hymns of comfort have left me feeling torn!
This flawed cross can't protect me anymore

I always reached for what wasn't even there!
The darkness becomes clear as the light disappears

I kiss the welcoming abyss / Closing the rift I once lived
Clouds drift / Body lifts
Winds wisp / Tears twist
My pain and peace quickly shift / The over

Second ShadowThe hand on your shoulder
The whispers in your mind
The words on your tongue
The voice in your throat
And the feelings in your soul

To drive to madness
To seduce the insane
To draw the blood
And dull the senses
To plague the memories
Of damage done
To fake safe haven
As the character changes

Light the anger and fuel the rage
Another mind to feed
A second shadow
To take you into eternity

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Do you really like it that much?

by ~PokeFusionMaster, Dec 21, 2012, 8:42:15 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I always wonder how the people I look up to become such great artists.
If I asked them, they'd probably just say,
"Practice makes perfect"
Well, if that's the case
Then why does my "art" still suck?
After all this time
All my dedication
Why have I not met the goals I've set?

Everyone around me says,
"You're so talented!"
But I wonder, is it true?
Are they just saying that?
Or are they trying to comfort me
For the years I've wasted?

I don't know anymore

But what I do know is that I don't have to meet anyone's standards
I don't have to tear myself down
Because I know that my art might not be perfect
But at least I can make at least one person happy

Who would that be?
I don't know
Maybe you should ask someone else,
Because right now I'm too busy doodling

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Do you really like it that much?by ~PokeFusionMaster

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This'll probably explain why I haven't posted anything for months.

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~BlackFeralRose Dec 26, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

You make a great point, and you should keep posting. I won't say practice makes perfect, because sometimes it doesn't. What can help is looking up references for things that you feel like you need to draw better. Or, look at some other people's art and see what they did differently. What helps you get better is observing. Observe the way different parts of an object or a body to see how it works and the different forms that it can take. You get better by taking in things from the world around you.

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~PokeFusionMaster Dec 26, 2012

I know references and observation help a lot, but sometimes it just seems daunting to create something so far out of my style zone, ya know?

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~BlackFeralRose Dec 26, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

Yeah, that's a good point.

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