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earth2bella

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  • 01-01-70
  • Lebt in Vereinigtes Königreich (England)

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earth2bella
übersetzen   8 Jahre

Cheater's Game Guilt traced its' footsteps all the way back to my bed, Shoving its' definition down my throat til i could no longer taste anything but it. Everyday I had slept in the grave I dug myself. It's not like I was held under oblivion, I could've easily stopped what had been done. Convenient. Is the word my therapist drilled into my head, Is the word that slips under my breath every time someone asks me why I did it. Truthfully I'm not quite so sure myself, My reasoning can't be documented but the proof is there. My lack of self control got the best of me, And impulsivity was the light at the end of the path, Or so it seemed. He handed me a rose with thorns on it, And when you got pricked with it you blamed me, Even though fault was already bleeding out of my skin. Bad luck was tattooed onto my forehead, And infidelity was a blanket I tucked myself in, waiting to be unfolded by you. It finally revealed itself, I am far more worse than any natural disaster. Put me in a coffin where I can think about what I did. Like licking metal, I shredded you to pieces. You were everything to me, Yet made my unapologetic ways seem pointless. I loved you, But the fact of the matter is, what I did is not considered love. The harsh imprint of his tongue left a scar on me, That you kissed. Call it what you want - misfortune, tragedy, But nothing can justify my actions. I don't owe anybody an explanation but myself, Sadly that explanation is hiding, tucked away, right next to my regret. Regret is the whisper that creeps up on me every night, Sneaks its way into my mind, interlocking with my inner demons. The thing is, I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. The day that I take the knife out of my own back and learn to forgive myself, Is the day I can at last feel at peace, not in pieces.

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    earth2bella
    übersetzen   8 Jahre

    Spring Break Spring break Is something i was supposed to enjoy But i found myself in my therapist’s office And next thing i know, a hospital bed My Mom by my side, tears in her eyes Me laying in disbelief, rolling my eyes The next day rolls around like planets orbiting the sun An ambulance transports me Check in for my stay at the “loony bin” I see name tags on rooms and hear voices of people Slowly i walk in, already feeling suicidal I’m drowning not only in my thoughts but in my hospital gown This surely isn’t a hotel but my mind goes straight to thinking “jail” I don’t belong here But trying to do this on my own Going months without help is what got me here The kids stare at me And the only high i’m getting is from my anxiety From my stay here the only thing i take in is We do a bunch of icebreakers and learn coping skills Nothing has ever been stuck in my head more than radio music Making bracelets and doing arts and crafts Board and card games and a whole lot of reality TV watching No one really cares how you’re feeling But here you can’t just say you’re doing “fine” Being here is like an island of misfit toys Except apparently we all have something in common At least that’s what we’re wired to think Whether we show it or not #depression, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, and more Mental disorder galore Several people have issues with anger, insecurities, family problems, you name it I sit on the couch and this guy calls me a devil worshipper Because he believes that he’s jesus Everyday he gets brain shock therapy to snap him out of it Out of it - a feeling i’ve gotten too familiar with When my grandma visits me it’s a blanket of comfort and relief When my parents visit me it’s nothing but a blank noise, silence Not the kind one can enjoy No mother wants to have to utter the words “my daughter is suicidal” And no daughter wants to have to hear the words “go ahead and kill yourself” I wonder Why my father has hurt me He pulled the trigger and shot me down with his words The voice of the bullet hit me so hard i shut down Like a computer, logged out of my mind The walls in “this place” are a plain white that scream boring And placed on them are watercolor paintings of san diego sceneries To remind you how much you miss the outside world We only go outdoors twice, Each for an hour that hour when i’m outside makes me feel free Like the doors to heaven’s gates have been opened Because no one likes to feel trapped Literally, and in their own mind No locks on any doors, doors must remain opened They check my vitals as soon as i wake up Doctors to prescribe me pills nurses to distribute them I feel like an old person Rotting away while attempting to cope with my disability The greatest news was brought to my attention By my doctor who wore bright eyes brimming with blue And a big sincere grin he tried to offer me encouraging words But asked me invasive questions day by day “How am i feeling?” And “do i have any urge to die today?” i was going to be discharged From 5 days of a hell that i brought onto myself Hauntingly i was excited But scared of what i was gonna get into Happiness was a destination i was still far from Junior year was when i went missing - mentally And Genuinely missing myself Going to class - seemed like the most easiest task to do But yet hesitation took my breath as i struggled to go The hardest part was deciding Whether to swallow my pride, my words, or my meds. And to be honest with you I’d be lying if i said i was glad to be back home.

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      earth2bella
      übersetzen   8 Jahre

      Xanax? Or A Stoplight? One eye seeing green The other yellow Both pupils dipped in white Popping bars till your red has disappeared

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