Aspiring Writers discussion

We all have a little emo inside us.

I tried,
I failed,
You laughed.

I was hurt,
I cried,
I should've "sucked it up"

I hoped,
I dreamed,
You crushed all of it.

So I cry one last time,
I try one more thing,
I suck in my last breaths,
And I cut.

i have a lot of emo in me cause i once was emo. lolz.

this writing
One cut
Along the wrist
That's all it takes
Death will meet
You on the
Way

This is really cool!
Short, but still gets a lot of feeling in it.

Stop ignoring this,
Waiting won't make this go away...

Stop talking,
You aren't making anything better...

Just listen,
I'm telling you what you need to hear...

Quit yelling..
I can't hear my own thoughts...

Back off,
Why are you attacking me...

Get away,
You're hurting me...

Stop this,
I can't make you this time.

You couldn't stop yourself,
Now look at me,
Lying on the floor,
Pale and limp,
There is no return now.

I fall
Deeper
Deeper
Deeper
Darkness encloses
Me
Anguish
Pain
Cutting
Can't
Help me
Escape
Escape
Escape
No amount of pain
Can pull
Me out
Of my
Pit
Pit
Pit
Dark dreams
Spilled blood
In this pit
I fall
Deeper
Deeper
Deeper

wow,
I love the repititions in sets of three.
It gives a lot of emotion, too, just wow

Thats really good poem

Thanks guys.

Hell fire
Burn my soul
Hell demons
Give me death
To stop my
Pain

Silent screams
Shattered dreams
Withered trees
In barren lands

I wander endlessly
Forever bleeding
From my wounds
Never healing

Hell fire
Burn my soul
Hell demons
Give me death
To stop my pain

thats really good, even better than the other, i like the images it gets across

Lol. Thanks so much! That means a lot. No one ever reviews my writing!

That was really good.

Thanks. Check out my Death Poems book.

It's all pretend
The mask we wear
The mask we hide
Behind

All pretend
Bandages wrapped
Around our
Wrists to hide
The scars and
Blood

Until the pain
Becomes too great
For us and
We peel back
The bandage

To renew the scars
To let blood flow

The pain
We can no longer
Escape from

We peel back
The bandages
Permentally

And Cut
Cut
Cut

Until the
Pain leaves
And we are left
Weak and
Dying
Dying
Dying

This one is really good,
I will say that it starts of very metaphorical and ends very literal. the start and end seem like two different poems.
Still really good though

Thanks.

Can love save you?
From enternal
Insanity?

Can love
Heal you?
Take away
Your pain?

Can love take
That knife and
Say, "No more!"?

Will you stop
Thinking of death?
No.

Love can't save me
Not from enternal
Insanity.

Love can't heal me
Or take away from pain

Love won't take away
The knife and say, "No more."

Love will let me keep
My knife.
To cut my pain
Away.
Slice by slice.

Love isn't strong enough
For me.

Goodbye Love

Oh! that's soo sad! And very good

Thanks!:)

anytime!

wow, finally an origional love poem, I think its awesome!

Lol, thanks!

I was forgotten...
I am the soldier,
wounded beyond repair,
in the stillness of night,
they'll come back for me later,
they never got the chance,
I lay there,
waiting,
until the morning took my breath away.

I was forgotten...
I am the child,
alone,
in the back room
while mommy and daddy fight,
worse than ever before,
I can;t undertand what it means,
when mommy's won;t wake up,
or kiss me to bed tonight.
So I stay under the table,
and hope daddy dosen't notice,
because mommy scares me now.

I was forgotten,
I am the dirty girl,
I never got to decide,
what love means to me,
when a stranger,
stole my innocece,
and left me without words,
and beyond repair,
how can I let anybody know?
I let them believe,
I just don't love them anymore.

I am all these,
Yet none of them are me,
I was forgotten,
but I'll never forget,
that I lived,
and I loved,
once upon a time,
until time turned itself around
and took away my happily
ever
after.

Wow.

wow that was really good

So good.

I cry/ It hurts / One stab and I would be free / Knife, gun, rope, water / No a knife / One cut / Across the throat / One stab / Between the ribs / The run of blood / The blanket of death / Don't cry / I've been dead a long time

Wow.

I wish I could write like that.

The red roses
Lay dead on
My table
As I will soon
Lay dead on my bed

The knife held
In one hand
Death so close
Sweet bliss
Passes over
Me

Warm blood flows
Slowly from
The cuts I've made

The blood
Red as the roses
Me dead
As the roses

Once a symbol of
Love, life
Now
Death,suicide

I like how you tied the roses into a death

I say thank you and everyone else did REALLY good on theirs

bob marley ate my cookie!

i love the use of a commonly used love metaphor and turned it around completly

=)
ya what you said.

Thanks. I was bored, so I wrote it.

How is weird defined?
What makes us strange?
How do we vary from the normal different?

Doing this is unusual,
Doing that is acceptable.
Say that this way,
its easier for them to accept.

They tell us that being different is okay,
that we are all special in our own way.

So why is it bad to be weird,
or strange,
which is just is just another word for not normal?

Why is thier 'different' any better than mine?
Why does mine get a bad label?

And what exacctly is so great about normal different?
Living inside boundries and guidelines,
being restricted from your own thoughts,
What is the real appeal?

When will I be allowed to be my own version?

Depressed Poet wrote: "Thanks. I was bored, so I wrote it."

you should get bored more! lol

Anna wrote: "Depressed Poet wrote: "Thanks. I was bored, so I wrote it."

you should get bored more! lol"

Totally.

An Ode to Suicide
A sweet escape
Bliss
My suicide helps
Me get through
Each day
Tempted to end my
Life

To watch blood flow
To watch scars heal
An ode to you suicide
For keeping me happy
For keeping me drugged

For allowing me to
Give away the pain
That builds up inside

An escape, to help
Me think

This ode is done
Because death is coming
For me

=) i love your writing so much!
hey Jacqueline did you know that one of the definitions to the word normal is:
to be with out a mental disorder: sane.

Dude, thats like totally cool. :)

I know! I wonder what the definition of sane is...

Nice.

I am trapped.
Trapped in a maze.
In a maze,
with no exit,
beguinning,
or end.

I am always running.
And sometimes I need
to rest.
But just as I sit,
I find
that there is.
another.

Anther bag.
Full of the wishes
and needs
of others.

I find another bag,
with my name
emblazened
in BIG
BOLD
letters.

I stare,
and I pray,
that a mistake has been made.

But someone always comes,
Always.
They pick it up,
and place it on
my shoulders.
And I cry.

They are never
the same person.
Few carry
the same load.
But their message
is ever ringing,
omnipresent,
and persistant.

It can shout.
It likes
to whisper.
To taunt
and drive me
to heartbreak.

But without fail,
their message is
always the same.
"Run"

Wow. Beautiful

=)
I love your writing!!

thanks. i have been noticiing that I always write best whe I am crying. talk about ironic