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Another untitled piece...

I am the one who cries every night—
the tortured girl who cannot find the light—
living in a dream to escape her fears,
hoping no one will notice the tears.

Cigarette in one hand, bottle in the other;
addicted to substances, trying to smother
reality with a few swigs from her drink:
for she now knows, it hurts too much to think.

Failing out of college for a lack of ambition,
the anger from her parents only increases depression
which grows as she gazes upon their tight faces—
confirming her beliefs: she is a disgrace.

But how do you smile at sanity’s end,
and how do you know whom to call friend?
When depression runs deep, it’s hard to forgo
all that was taught many ages ago...

So just hold your head up, keep trudging on;
always listening to that familiar song—
the lyrics that always seem to echo your heart,
the song that’s playing as your soul rips apart...

Author notes

Umm..whatever..another shitty poem from me
Written May 6th, 2004

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Comments


  • shatteredprince
    May 26, 2004
    Edit | Reply
    your not going to beleive this.
    i just wrote a huge fuckiing thing about this and somehow i erased it with a single fucking keystroke. Bah...heres basically what i said, i would applaud it but it didn't seem right to give something as sad as this a happy man clapping, just know that i'm applauding it as i sit right here, its too bad that you have to do this whole drinking smoking thing to deal with the shit that this bitch of a wrold dishes out, but i don't think that you deserve it...not that it makes any difference at all. anyway, great write, keep it up, and i'm sorry that i haven't been here much, mad busy.
    a waste of flesh


  • May 20, 2004
    Edit | Reply
    Sanity's end?? Peculiar.

    A very heartfelt piece...

  • SpaceCadetJ
    May 7, 2004
    Edit | Reply
    You could call it "Distractions" as a fitting title, that's just me though

  • SpaceCadetJ
    May 7, 2004
    Edit | Reply
    Fuckin' A. Right as you think the poem is coming to it's inevitable conclusion, Bam! that last line blows it wide open again. "The song that's playing as your soul rips apart." That line made me stand cold.

    Things can only get better for us Ica, you will get through this. And if nothing else your writing kicks some serious ass. I will see you on Saturday and all will be well.