[x]

Lovelove

Someone asked me what is love
is it good, is it bad
is it awesome, is it terrible
I honestly didnt know how to answer them.
I finally desided love is the most complicated of all emotions
Love is kind
love is harsh
love is wonderful
love is terrible
love is a cure
love is a sickness
love is LOVE
love is hate
love is meaningful
love is pointless
love shows the best in people
love shows the worse in people
love makes us speak truth
love makes us lie
love understands everything
love confuses everyone
love builds your life
love tears your heart down
love makes you smile
love makes you cry
love makes us cuddle
love m

SuicideSuicide... they call it sin
They say it is a death in which no-one wins...

They encourage you not to do it, they say it is wrong...
But who is there to encourage you when you can't be strong.

You feel like you have no-one, not even a friend.
No shoulder to cry on, just one last letter to send.

tragedies - collab.you deserve all the cobweb dreams,
fairytale hopes, and explosive love
in the world, but i know that i
will never be the one
to give them to you.

you need notes that end with
'ps - you're brighter than
twenty-seven silver stars'.
i can't bring myself
to write them, though.

it's not like you'd read them,
anyway.

i cut out paper hearts and
dreams and gave them to you, but
you only ripped them up and said
'these aren't good enough.'

when i painted you a picture
of golden skies and sunshine smiles,
you handed it back and told me
'next time, paint realistically.'

so i wrote you a story
filled of starless nights and
hopeless d

the speed addictthe speed addict knows if he stops moving,
he will die. so when inertia takes hold
his heart falters and his head slams against
a future, lit by the dashboard. he hears
his veins stuttering like gears grinding out
a staccato refrain, while the wheel spins and
goes numb. as his breath twists away from his grip,
rasps a hollow plea, he slides on a rail
towards impartial angels leaving rainbow sparks
in his soaring wake, and meets blazing lights.
the addict dies twice. one is nev

heart song.this is the song
to your heart.

listen.

-

part zero.
oh, dearest,
why are you locked inside
a bathroom stall? no one
to hold you, tell you sweet
lies and say you are
beautiful, say you are
perfect? it's not the end of
the world, not yet. if it was,
wouldn't there be
fireworks?

-

part one.

sleeping.

your heart is not yet
dead; please do not
say it is. if it was dead,
it wouldn't hurt this
much.

your heart is only sleeping.

-

part two.

when the only melody in your head
is a break up song, and the only thing
your heart seems capable of doing
is twisting itself into knots, and the only
thing you want to do is hide a

DementiaThe old man sits with stooped back.
The room is cold, just like his hands.
Thoughts have wandered like small children.
He wonders if he will see home again.

Thoughts have wandered home again,
with stooped backs and cold hands.
The room sits with the old man.
Like small children, he wonders if he will see cold.

Back stooped with thoughts, he wanders.
Like a child the small room sits, wondering.
Home again is cold.
The old man will see with his hands.

Thoughts have wandered with stooped backs.
The cold hands sit with the old man.
He wonders if he will see like small children.
The room is home again.

you can't feel through fabrictonight the rain becomes the earth
falling from hidden spaces in the sky and swollen clouds
i hear it make mud of dirt, and lovers of friends
and ask, quiet, where are you going but down?

i’m not all there in the head
you’re not all there in the head, my mother says
i’m not all there in the head i repeat
sometimes i’m there in my toes and fingers and heart as well

and now - in this downpour moment- i lie on the street
so warm that i think well that’s where love’s gotten to
but where is your shirt n? oh someplace else
and is that a light flickering in the house across the road? hide!

i rush in soaken w

This PainTears roll down my face,
As I cut myself,
To release the pain.
It hurts so much,
But feels so good.
The pain is draining from me,
In drops of blood.
As I watch my pain leave from me,
I think,
"How can this be,
That I have so much pain
When I'm only merely 16?".
Then I remember the past that I've had,
Memories of yelling,
slamming doors,
all the awful scars.
I've cried too much,
I've hated so many,
That I don't think people will ever get me.
I come back from my world of thoughts
And realize that I've bled too much,
It's all over the counter,
It's becoming messy,
But I don't care.
I just want this pain out of me.
I'm

Sunday in the Kitchendear mother,

i ask you how far we are from heaven.
hunched over the sunday paper like a patient gargoyle.
your eyes blinking too often, and tongue snaking
around in your mouth, as if the answer is hidden between your teeth.

dear mother,

you hum holy bars in the kitchenette.
say "hallelujah means praise yahweh, praise the lord"
say "angels must rest on the tongue of that word"
say "angels, oh angels hallelujah, hallelujah, rest in me"

but you haven't slept in weeks.
i hear you sob sigh into the night like a prayer.
like your table lamp is the closest thing to heaven-gates.

dear mother,

sometimes i still wish i could pray with you

Let's Hate
Age 11

We met in a room full of crowded people
who knew my name
they knew my face
and they knew things I didn't
Most people there knew his parents
and that was about it; the knowledge ended there

He said, Come with me
and I said no
I made friends with social rejects
and I made enemies with people hard to avoid
We kept in touch
But only

Depressing PoemsSorry --

What if she died?
And at the funeral her parents told you,
"You could have saved her from herself."
How would that make you feel?
And that night you went home
Sat in your room alone
And killed yourself
Just to be with her again and tell her
"I'm sorry."

Friends --

Why do people try to help me?
Do they care?
I guess they do
But all I do is hurt them
Especially Sarah
She keeps trying to help me
But all I do is push her away
She's my best friend
Why can't I just let her help?

Emptiness --

What if I died right now?
How would you fell?
Sad, depressed, torn apart?
Or would you feel nothing,
But an empty place that

when i look in the mirror.one.
things you touch turn silent.

hearts can be blacked, burnt, ashy - but you take the ashes and burn, burn, burn them until there's only a memory left, a memory that's all edges and icicles.

you leave me cold, empty and
i don't want to breathe anymore.

two.
'darling, you would do well to remember-

you can't have a light at the end of the tunnel
if you have no tunnel.

darling, you would do well to remember -

you are not empty. you are not empty.
[it's still hurting, after all. it's still hurting
and you don't want to live,
but you're not empty.]

darling, you would do well to remember-

they love you. they love you,

they love

ocean burning.one.

before she met you, she would reach for the sun while standing on the branches of trees, arms stretched towards the sunlight, reaching and waiting.

now, happiness is like a summer memory in the dead of winter - still there, but fading too fast to hold onto. now, she sits on rooftops with you at night, and the two of you watch as the city lights go out one by one.

two.

sometimes, when you laughed, she was reminded of the wind rushing through trees in winter - melodic and beautiful, but still cold, unforgiving.

the two of you watched the waves of the ocean take away the beach, piece by piece.

you were the waves.

she was the sand.

t

Feeling Adventurous?Oh God...

He's about to pass me,
about to brush me,
about to touch me,
I'm about to die.

He's about to move,
about to look,
about to smile,
I'm about to die.

He's a God.
He's perfect.
He's toxic,
to me,
he's high,
he's light,
he's lust,
he's want,
he's a fever,
he's an ache,
he's a healing,
he's a break,
all I want,
are those lips,
on mine,
all the time,
come to me,
and let me be,
just a little...

But only if you're feeling it,
the way I feel it too,
all I want is you,
come to me,
let me be,
just a litle crazy.

Put my hands in your hair,
put your hands on my waist,
hold me close,
pull me near,
then I'll k

blowing bubbles.last night we
watched the clouds
fall.

and you said:
you are beautiful.

and i am afraid
that i might one day
actually believe you

and

sometimes i feel like
i'm just this big bundle
of problems and i have
been searching and
i can't find the answers.

you told me that the answers
are in blowing bubbles and
tying shoe laces and chasing
dreams, but honestly i just

don't

understand. i have tried
to chase my dreams but

they only run away.

.

you told me that you can't
stand how i sound when i
give up and the hope
is knocked out of me and
you can't stand me when
i am busy counting
the empty spaces in the
walls and

Browse More Like This

Download File
HTML, 4.2 KB more ▶

Featured in Groups:

Not currently featured in any groups.

Details

Submitted: January 7, 2004
File Size: 4.2 KB

Link

Thumb

Statistics

Comments: 6
Favourites: 2 [who?]
Views: 93 (0 today)
Downloads: 21 (0 today)

[x]

Downward Spiral

by ~AngelsMercy, Jan 7, 2004, 9:54:42 AM
Literature / Poetry / Experimental / Other

           Twisting, turning,
                Writhing, burning,
                    Yours is a love that
                          Is The kind that seems
                            To Flow through me
                          With a feeling that
                        Creates and ever-
                      flowing, reeling…
                intensity that keeps
              Me coming back for
           More. Never getting
        enough, I Return
           again, and again
               Do you reach for me
                      As I reach for you
                           Moving forwards
                              Towards, The ever
                            Present realization
                         of what Can or will
                      never be  Always
                  knowing that
           all could Be lost
              and in one single
                   Moment this could
                        All come crashing
                           down to our final
                                Inevitable
                                    End

Downward Spiralby ~AngelsMercy

Literature / Poetry / Experimental / Other

You know, one of those visual poems...but I cant figure out how to make it do the correct spacing on here

~Happytimes-77 Jun 3, 2004 Writer

I just had to have this on my poetry account's favorites list, now that it's up and running!

*claps*

I still love this one!

~Coleman Jan 26, 2004

that poem makes me dizzy

....nice job...I'm not a poet or a writer, but I think its really cool.

~AngelsMercy Jan 26, 2004

hehehe, you think its cool....*smiles*

~0-Carrion-0 Jan 8, 2004 Writer

Yknow, this piece is really gripping.
The words themselves are strong, extremely so---but its the form here that really grabs my attention. I suppose it would for anyone, because it's a great idea...
however, I think it appeals to me moreso as I'm the type of person who---when I read a poem, I study the outline of its body. Maybe Im a weirdo, lol, I dunno.
It's just that, when you're speaking to the mind through the eye and you challenge it to do something besides listen in a medium not meant for Physical Visualization---then you've just broken the realms of creativity and done something spectacular to the reader.

And you did just that.

Excellent.

~AngelsMercy Jan 8, 2004

i am sooooo blushy right now...wow, ummm, when I was reading your journals and writings I thought to myself this guy is amazing. He knows how to use words to his fullest advantage. It such a complete honor to have you say anything to my poem, as such that I feel writing is not my strongest talent, and I tend to sound very superficial. Somehow I dont have the ability to give voice to what I truly feel or think...so again, thankyou so much...

~0-Carrion-0 Jan 8, 2004 Writer

First, thank you so much for the compliment regarding my writing... I appreciate it more than you could possibly know.

I also wanted to assure you that the pieces I've read of yours didnt appear superficial to me at all. Explosions are superficial (and although captivating, ultimately short-lived); poetry and writing is the antithesis: a direct essence of the artist.
At least I perceive it that way when the artist in question writes honestly--as you do.

Ok, I think I got all the Yoda-isms out of my system now, lol. Feel free to shoot me a ring anytime. I'm more fun than I sound.

Later,
-Carrion

More from ~AngelsMercy

Featured in Groups:

Details

Statistics

Downward Spiral

Downward Spiralby ~AngelsMercy

The Journal Portal

Polls

What is your preferred drawing software?

deviantART [dee·vee·un'nt·ART]

Keep in Touch!

Deviousness

Add Media

Style