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Picture of createdequal
Registered: March 13, 2005
Posts: 3
Posted   Reply With QuoteEdit or Delete MessageReport This Post  
Just a girl
Smiling inside
Convincing everyone
That everything's fine
Such a good liar
She almost convinces herself
Until she looks into the mirror
And remembers why
There are tears running down
From her dark brown eyes
When she’s alone
She’s unplugged the phone
Just so that she will no longer
Have to lie
Eyes of fire
Stare back at her
From the world behind the mirror
Years of lying
Really consumes
The kindness and heat
Inside of her soul.
Causing her pain
In places only she can feel
She looks at her arms
And sees the scars
Running down from her wrists
To her elbow
Top and bottom
Deep to the soul
She remembers when each one was made
And why
They tell a story.
Wearing long sleeves to cover her arm
Hiding her once read bracelets of charm
Lookat her now
She doesn’t even know
How to smile anymore
She’s sick of lying, crying,
Hiding her pain
No one loves her anymore
Not even herself
Did anyone ever love her?
She wonders as she ties the knot
And a noose she places around her neck
Formed of memories
Rather than of rope
Tightened around her neck
She stands on the chair
And immediately starts on plans B
and C
Incase plan A doesn’t work.
She downs three bottles of asprin
And slices her wrists
As she knocks over the chair
And one last time before she dies
She sees her reflection
in the puddles of blood
Below her dangling feet.


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-ness
Picture of Greenleaf771
Registered: March 30, 2005
Posts: 3628
Posted   Hide PostReply With QuoteEdit or Delete MessageReport This Post  
God. Wow. Nice poem, it was very well written, and even when you want to stop reading it, it won't let you. Wow. Very good, but more than slightly unnerving. Wow.


"I imagine a lot of people tune in simply to watch reporters get bitch-slapped by Mother Nature, and frankly, who can blame them?� Anderson Cooper
Picture of iamastar
Registered: June 22, 2004
Posts: 2343
Posted   Hide PostReply With QuoteEdit or Delete MessageReport This Post  
That was deep and a little wicked. Not that that's bad but yeah it was good. I began to feel the emotions in the poem because in real life I have felt them before.


I have not yet reached my goal, and I am not perfect. But Christ has taken hold of me. So I keep on running and struggling to take hold of the prize. My friends, I don't feel that I have already arrived. But I forget what is behind, and I struggle for wha
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