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Literature Text
My feelings I threw into a box, too big for me.
So I created a mask, made of all the tears I've shed.
I know I know how cliche that sounds.
You asked, you asked “Are you ok?”
But you didn't want an answer.
Instead you wanted to be smiled at, and say in a plastic voice “I’m fine, you?”
Because you wanted to talk about yourself.
The feelings you had were apparently superior to mine.
Apparently I am just here as a blank slot.
To be played and then left because I ‘gave nothing’.
The time limit for you to care lasts a minute, and then you’re off.
“This ‘you’ isn't the person that we want to deal with.”
“Be happy, or we’ll stop being around you.”
“I've always been there for you!”
“Stop being so depressing.”
“Stop crying.”
“Wimp”
So I created a mask, made of all the tears I've shed.
I know I know how cliche that sounds.
You asked, you asked “Are you ok?”
But you didn't want an answer.
Instead you wanted to be smiled at, and say in a plastic voice “I’m fine, you?”
Because you wanted to talk about yourself.
The feelings you had were apparently superior to mine.
Apparently I am just here as a blank slot.
To be played and then left because I ‘gave nothing’.
The time limit for you to care lasts a minute, and then you’re off.
“This ‘you’ isn't the person that we want to deal with.”
“Be happy, or we’ll stop being around you.”
“I've always been there for you!”
“Stop being so depressing.”
“Stop crying.”
“Wimp”
Literature
What's Left Behind...
Some days I find myself staggering from this hovel;
To stand with shaking legs upon the window ledge.
I look down at the tiny world below, wind rushing before me;
And I wonder if I'll be able to fly tonight...
The caress of the wind, so gentle upon my skin.
One step, one leap and I'd dip myself into the eye of the storm.
But just before my courage sends me;
Just before I take the final plunge.
I find myself looking back, at the world I'd leave behind...
Stacks of paper and a pot of ink,
Reams of stories too precious to burn.
Ideas and fears both rolled into one;
And pages of poetry left undone...
It always leaves me smiling...
For these
Literature
Sweet Serenity
I have searched the very depths of my being,
Seeking the essence of the void...
To understand its nature,
To become a part of nothing...
For where else can we be free of turmoil,
Where else can a beaten soul go to rest?
If not in the comforting embrace of eternal oblivion?
...
Such is what I seek, away from the noise that burns at my ears.
Away from the many voices that drill into my mind.
For these are not the whispers of psychosis,
Nor the delusions of a twisted psyche.
Instead they are the whispers that are heard all around us;
The whispers of the every-man.
He who desires the body of another.
He who desires the fat of his wallet.
He
Literature
Shattered heart
With this broken heart I'll keep moving on
And the scar you left me will help me become strong
For my heart used to be so numb, but then you showed me love
Sadly then you shattered it, once you saw I held you dear
But I hope you don't regret what you have done
For what I felt, you'll only receive it once
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And crying does not make you a wimp. I have done it many times in my life. It makes you real. I understand what you are saying. You are not a lone.