|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
tenI've politely declined death
for maybe the seventh time
but he's a rather persistent
fellow; he never lets my
fivemaybe if i tear out my
veins, replace them with
flowers, stitch myself up with
lace and ribbons, i'll be pretty
twothese scars will melt
with time, but the emotions
are forever branded to
the hour that birthed them and
the strangers they belong to
threemy wrists are leaking again;
i've spilt my guts, but you
mopped them up without even
cringing. i don't think
the stains will come out.
not this time.
Endlessi could talk to you
until my throat bled
from all the sharp corners
of every word
and i'd listen to your voice
until the sun
circles the moon.
and then some
eighti run with scissors
on purpose. i don't have
a death wish, I just hide
all the bullet holes
i've collected upon entering
this cruel world. being impaled
can't hurt much more
11:47 poemroses are red
violets are blue
compliments mean nothing
when coming from you.
don't tell me i'm skinny
don't call me fat
just acknowledge i'm human
and leave it at that.
i hope you remember to bring the flowers.the stars whispered late
as we lay beneath their
"what if i die today?" you asked.
and i told you in that case,
i'd see you by tomorrow.
UnspokenFor the love
I never shared.
For the things
I'll never tell.
For all the secrets
Big and small.
For the times
I ignored the calls.
For all the words
I left unspoken.
I'm now drowning
In my emotions.
Spotlight"it's all for attention"
but silence is not a spotlight
words unsaid aren't pleading cries
dark clothes do not draw the eye
blood drips silently, slowly
scarred flesh is held close, concealed
pills are small, in light of how they'll end it all
(razors don't shine in the dark)
"it's all for attention"
but silence is not a spotlight
silence is a suicide note
Self hate.You're pissing me off
Quit bringing me down
I've had enough
Of walking around with a frown
You threw away my most precious possession
All my emotions made place for aggression
Then came hatred followed by depression
Everyone ignored it with this same empty expression
Quit calling me slut
Don't bring up those stories filled with pain
Quit making me cut
Don't make me jump underneath the free-train
Just shut up and hear me out
All you need to do is listen that's it
You have no clue what this is about
You're destroying me bit by bit
I want you to disappear
The well I'm in is far too deep
Only because you're here
I wish for eternal sleep
I hate you!
Two SidesOh. It broke.
Don't worry, we can fix it!
Why bother? It'll just break again.
But then we can make it stronger!
It won't make a difference.
Well, we have to fix it if it's broken, right?
Not unless we stop using it.
But we have to use it!
It's useless fixing it though; it never stays quite right.
Then we'll just have to make sure it does this time, won't we?
You know you're just setting yourself up for failure.
We'll see. You know we're going to end up using it.
And a week after we start using it, it'll break. Again.
We just have to learn how to use it properly.
And what is this "properly"? Have we been using it dangerously this entire time?
Well, no, but—
Exactly. It's not us. It's them.
You know, you shouldn't blame it on others.
Why do you never care about it?
Why do you care so much about it?
Just Sometimes.Its either black or it has to be white,
There exists no color
Dad told me when I was nine
He told me with almost misty eyes:
'I don't know how to feel
about 19 September 1995'
'Well, considering the fact
that its my b'day, I think
you should talk about it
at least a little more
radiantly than that!'
the day you were born,
it was a lead sky,
that was the day your mother
And for the first time
in my entire life;
I think I saw tears roll
out 'his eyes.
Furthermore that was the day I realized
Just sometimes, eyes bleed and wounds cry
Sometimes you find yourself dead though you respire.
Delusional Angel.Delusional Angel.
Twist my mind up, influence me.
It's all a dream darling, don't think it real.
We're just passing through; or is life passing through us?
Wrap yourself around me, love––
hold me through the storm.
Do you feel that beating, love?
––it's in sync with the universe.
Life is but a moment; surging through eternity.
This, right now is but a coinciding instant.
We have survived the world, lovely. Do you see it?
Remember me in the morning dear, tonight is absolute.
Pale pink lips and sweet bits.
Sketches and coffee spots.
Full moons and breaking points.
Vinyl vibes and genuine conversation.
Red wine and lipstick streaks.
Kisses and contemplation.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
NightmaresI used to be an open person
Some would say I was too open
I told everyone
Everything there was to know about me
But it all changed one day
They changed the way they saw me
They changed the things they did around me
She changed the way she looked me
She changed the way she spoke to me
I changed the things I chose to share
I changed the way I saw the world
I made a simple mistake
Presenting my heart on a silver platter
One day made me
One day chained me
It was an innocent action
That led to disastrous consequences
One day gave birth to my downfall
One day showed me Hell
In the moments leading to my demise
I spoke an evil truth
Telling my younger sister
My worst nightmares
Disgust danced on her face
Fear glazed her eyes
And tears chased each other down her little cheeks
I realized that
In order to right my wrong
I had to change
This was the only way to save myself
From my own growing darkness
So I stopped
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
Keep in Touch!