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I hate the nights where I feel
so hallow inside
I feel so damn empty and out of place
I hate the nights where my mind
wanders to the unknown
and all I return with is sadness
I hate counting the tears that rush
down my cheeks and collect upon my
pillow
I hate that the only thing I have
at night to comfort me is
my loneliness
And the only thing I feel
surrounding me is
darkness.
I hate it all
~s.b
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I want to be with somebody I can open up to and be myself around without being uncomfortable since I'm a bit of a mess. I want to be with somebody who actually understands me, who doesn't mind listening to my meaningless rants over and over again. I want to be with somebody who treats me like I'm someone exceptional even though I don't have much to offer.
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i want to give up; i'm done with myself but no matter how depressed i am, no matter how much it's killing me, i can't leave because I care too much, i know this would destroy my friends, so i take this pain, i've chosen to smile although i'm dying inside in the hope the people i love don't become depressed.
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i didn't leave because i stopped loving you i left because the longer i stayed the less i loved myself
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My mind is an overgrown jungle, And your axe blade won't help you at all, Because the vines of my pain are too thick here, And the thorns of my sorrow are too tall, My mind is an overgrown jungle, There's no entrance to let you inside, In fear that you'll cut down my branches, And find the feelings I've worked hard to hide, The vines tie in knots in my jungle, To form a rooftop that blocks out the light, So the sun might be warm on the outside, But the inside's as cold as the night, There's a house made of thorns in my jungle, I've spent years making it feel like home, I can do anything I want here, To take my mind off the fact that I'm alone, Because the problem with overgrown jungles, Is there's always more vines that will sprout, And I know that's hard to get in here, But it's ten times as hard to get out.
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She said she was okay.
And you believed her ?
Let me tell you what's wrong with her.
She's tired.
That's exactly what she is, tired.
She's tired of getting hurt.
She's tired of being let down.
She's tired of the lies.
She's tired of caring too little, and not caring at all.
She's tired of holding it in.
She's tired of feeling broken, damaged, worthless, never good-enough, pain.
She's tired of being judged for everything that she does.
She's tired of all her flaws and insecurities.
She's tired of trying.
She's tired of getting her hopes up.
She's tired of being treated like shit.
She's tired of being herself.
She's tired, want to know how I know all of this ?
Because she's me and I'm really tired.
J.H
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I'm always going to be there for you, even if I'm the one falling apart.
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'She cried over you. She cried for days.'
'I know.'
'Then why didn't you reach out to her? Why didn't you give her the closure she needs?'
'Because I'm hurting too,' he shouted. 'Because I'm afraid that if I see her crying in front of me, I'll apologize and beg for her back! But I can't do that.' His gaze dropped. 'I can't hurt her anymore than I have.'
j.h
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I don't know how to tell you I'm broken without feeling needy
I don't know how to open up without feeling judged
I don't know how to cry
when my tears feel like acid
I just need you to see I'm hurting
without me telling you
because my words are bleeding out
of my mouth, waiting for you
to stitch me up and make me fine
although I know that's not your job
and you're better off without me
I just need you to see me
one last time
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Months ago we stayed up until 3am talking And today I don't even know how to say hey
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She was a shooting star,
Her smile so bright and rare,
That by the time that you had blinked,
There was no sign it had been there.
~e.h
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She was the summer's last flower, Writing a letter to July, As though one final correspondence, Would make an easier goodbye, But already she could feel them, The approaching winds of change, An autumn she would never see, Both beautiful and strange, As the heat's embrace got softer, She watched the leaves all fall and settle, And had one last look for love, Within her few remaining petals, But though the sun had made a promise, She knew it was one that he forgot, As her final petals fell to earth, He loves me, He loves me not.
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