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Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?
I cry. Does that make me emo?
I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?
I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?
I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?
I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?
I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?
I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.
Does that make me different?
Maybe.
But at least it makes me
Me.

RelapseIt’s like counting
Saturn’s rings,
hash marks
along your limbs -
remembering a time
when

‘just one more’

made you feel better.

- & you’re sitting there
wondering why
Draco, stuck in limbo
always looks like he’s

falling.

FrostbiteNumbness
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.

It spreads, like fire,
Like ice.
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
Pat –pat
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.

I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
Up…
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?

What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
Hello?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –

Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character who
never existed but in the labyrinth of her head:
a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy words
she’d heard in her catatonic state; coma living
day in and day out, reliant on the salvation
of a man made of foreign wishing
and imperfection and necessity – an ignorance
of the less than ideal perception of self she’d
come to fear, absention stained romantic to the point
where daydreams were a standard for survival

(real living is for the purposeful of heart,
he loves her in her sleep)

UneditedWe cry.
We scream.
We fight for our dream.

We scream.
We cry.
We're just waiting to die.

The same emotions
with a different drive.
Sometimes dead, sometimes alive.

The same in one way,
different in another
brother and sister, sister and brother.

So close in feeling,
so different in the end.
Falling apart, or finally on the mend?

Which am I?
Will I ever know?
Fighting to stay or ready to go?

Maybe I'm both,
in some impossible way.
Emotions oddly mixed everyday.

Wouldn't surprise.
I'm such a freak.
Excuse me, I laugh, I should call it "unique"

Happily AloneHonesty,
She does not have,
Personalities,
She has many of them.

A million shields,
a million personalities,
She's always changing,
to fit every person around her.

If one were to ask why,
she would answer with,
I will never reveal my weaknesses,
because she's evil.

She hates everyone,
stupider than her is barely tolerable,
smarter than her is too scary,
She hates it all.

She leaves the world behind,
To one she has dreamt of,
No color,
nobody else.

Then,
she will smile,
why,
because she is truly happy alone.

She is not evil,
She does not hate you,
She is not dishonest,
She simply wants to be alone.

WorthlessWorthless,
the name that cuts like a knife,
Me,
it's all that you see inside,
My heart,
is breaking with every breath I take
The lies,
the only thing I can't seem to face.

We are the King and Queen of Broken DreamsStanding still in a mine field, staring at all we have left.
We were so young, we didn’t stop to think.
Now we’re in a car crash, teetering on the brink.
If you were to leave me now, I don’t know what I’d do.

It was a whirl wind romance,
A light when all was black, a spark of something when all was bleak.
You swept me off my feet and made me feel brand new.
I thought we could live forever and I’m certain you did to.

We built a house without foundations
And now we’re falling down,
Everything’s crumbling around us, time slipping through out fingertips.
People used to walk past us but they were to drunk to see,
That our lives are coming apart around us, there is no light as far as we can see.

There was no fire to start with,
Just two broken things, the world had left behind.
The casualties of other people’s dreams of power, money and control,
Spat out onto the curb to rot away and die.
We never stood a chance or so

wallflower clippingsthere's scar tissue in her throat,
swollen around the words she never said;
dark rings around her eyes
like planets unremembered, and
a staleness to her touch,
the crystalline Dead Sea.

she's living like a story
that's already been told
"if no one loved you
would you mean anything at all?"

in that moment,
we forget to exist.

lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrows
and the density of leaves
against dew-muffled blades
of grass,

and I'm drowning
in the sky.

My skin has learned how
to peel itself off
without causing a commotion
in my marrows or
even show the slightest hint
of pain,
and my heart has learned how
to hush the stars in their wake
and keep it all a secret.

There's a sea in my mouth
and I can't swim.

There are lifelines
cast like these and it will
all end with the same tragedy.

Falling off the EdgeDo you know what it feels like?
To nearly fall off the edge,
but not quite...
just so that you're dangling;
clinging for your worthless life
lest it fall into the sea of loneliness.
Your callused, pink fingers turning
to a shade of purplish-red of pain
as it does it best to hold on.

Splash.

In the sea of loneliness,
everything is crisp, translucent.
There is nothing around you,
you are alone...
unlike other people,
you have no one
clamouring to save you;
you have no one
diving in to get you out.

There is no point
screaming for help,
you will only waste
the little time and air you have left.
You only have the darkness
of the sea envelop

of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,
atop Africas and South Atlantics;

this is one situation unaffected by
ember eyes and windy lashes
(it has no anatomy).

You are sparrows stranded
in tiny crevices and cliffside love,
though you rebuke flight
in the fear of chipping feathers.

So what do you do?

You reach for my soul,
coveting flight with shaking
dainty arms…

and perhaps I’ll let you:
With flytrap lips and
glass shaped hips…
you are unfit for anything but
sight.

(But beauty isn’t everything)

Honesty Written

from the

heart.

No eraser.

Her SideTomorrow she'll be gone,
but what can you say?
Nothing can help her.
The pain won't go away.

But she would've stopped,
you could've said no.
That's what she wanted,
someone to say don't go.

That someone wanted her,
or at least would try.
That someone would grieve
if she were to die.

But you just stared,
nodding your head,
and she realized the truth
with a feeling of dread.

No one wanted her.
No one cared.
Not even you,
with the the love you shared.

So she said good-bye,
and you watched her leave.
She may have had the rope,
but now you can't breathe.

Battle in my MindEat.
Don't eat.
Take it easy.
Work out until you pass out.
Get help.Tell someone.
Keep it a secret. It's only for you and me.
You're perfect.
You're worthless.
You're beautiful.
You're disgusting.
Why won't you listen?
They don't understand.
Let me help you.
You don't understand.
Show me.
No!
I love you..

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More from *toxic-nebulae

organistI’ve tried too hard to bridge this gap:
the space between my fingers,
vague, insipid emptiness,
the quiet, profound longing
of an unturned page.

you come to me with all the languor,
all the midnight captivation
of a cup of over-brewed tea,
a corset laced too tight,
a strict and unassuming wish for death.

somewhere in the world, someone
is unaware of your language, your
beauty, your music’s
arcane flutter: but that place is not here
and that person is not me.

here, I play memories
like a poorly tuned violin:
splendid, fearless melodies,
my violent, untamed love for you
lost in a Frescobaldian fugue.

OceaniaI accidentally married you
one day during the low tide.
my sympathies were at a low ebb

when you,
sea princess, gutted me with
seaweed fingers, shrunk me

until a tide pool held
all the romance,
all the pooled possibilities

of the ocean.

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dark and deep

by *toxic-nebulae, Jan 30, 2013, 6:02:47 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

depression is
an eyeless beast,
coal-black and indigo,
that has wrapped itself
around my mind
like a snake, a
tourniquet.

loosening, restricting,
it plays me
like an accordian—
"stay in bed today,"
it hisses,
insidious as an insurgent,

or
"slit your skin
into thin, shiny ribbons"
or
"slip the noose
around your neck and
pull
"

114

9 11 6

dark and deepby *toxic-nebulae

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trying to explain to people what it feels like, but I guess it's hard if you've never felt it

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Submitted on: January 30
File Size: 559 bytes

Views: 114
Favourites: 9 (who?)
Comments: 11
Downloads: 6

~Mr-Timeshadow Jan 31, 2013

True. I didn't feel those specific sensations -- I was convinced Death was after me and I was trying to avoid what seemed inevitable -- but the suffering was overwhelming and no one could understand why I didn't "snap out of it" or what could possibly be wrong in the first place. True, neither could I! But it still felt plenty real to me when I lost the ability to sleep through the night, or eat a whole meal, or slow my pulse...

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`vespera Jan 31, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

I really liked the accordion bit. It's a very fresh metaphor.

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*toxic-nebulae Jan 31, 2013 Student Writer

thank you.

Reply

=KissTheSunrise Jan 31, 2013

"depression is an eyeless beast..." - good analogy for it.

Reply

*toxic-nebulae Jan 31, 2013 Student Writer

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~Killio01 Jan 31, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

A feeling felt many times, wonderfully captured here. Faved.

Reply

*toxic-nebulae Jan 31, 2013 Student Writer

thank you.

Reply

~Killio01 Jan 31, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

You're more than welcome ^w^ <3

Reply

*katiekerr Jan 30, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Not your best, but still good.

The (somewhat frenetic) line breaks in the last stanza deserve a nod, though.

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*toxic-nebulae Jan 31, 2013 Student Writer

<3

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