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Literature Text
Words Hurt
Hit me one more time
Hit me again
Push me around
On the floor
Down the stairs
It hurts less than your words
So kick me
Bruise my skin
But don’t call me names
‘Worthless, ugly’
It causes too much pain
I love you I really do
I’ll take the abuse
And be your punch bag
But please keep your words
My head can’t take it
My mind won’t survive
The truth....
It destroys me.
Hit me one more time
Hit me again
Push me around
On the floor
Down the stairs
It hurts less than your words
So kick me
Bruise my skin
But don’t call me names
‘Worthless, ugly’
It causes too much pain
I love you I really do
I’ll take the abuse
And be your punch bag
But please keep your words
My head can’t take it
My mind won’t survive
The truth....
It destroys me.
Literature
Get Over It
“You’re just sad.”
“Suck it up.”
And the worst?
“Get over it.”
I’m not just sad. I suffer from depression
Waiting for happiness’s resurrection.
I can’t just forget it, it’s in me for good
I can’t do the things that I know I should.
I’m not just sad. I’m broken. I’m lost.
I’ve tried everything to fix it, no matter the cost.
I’ve carried a blade just to hold to my wrist.
I’ve carried a dream inside of my fist.
I’ve talked about it, like they say I should do
But all my efforts are stopped by ignorant people like you.
“You&rs
Literature
It Came From The Dark
It Came From The Dark:
Amongst the ashes, swirling from the darkness of the pit,
Emerged a hand, dragging a battered body across the rocks.
Blood leaked from the wounds so callously self-inflicted,
And teeth ground with a focused determination and seething anger.
It cared not for the warm rubies - staining the jagged rocks,
It cared not for the sensation of pain...
All that it remembered was a dream, An obsession -
One that drove it ever higher; ignoring all else!
Eventually it emerged from this shadowy hole, this dreary depth,
And in that moment, it learned of the truth.
For this creature, denied sunlight and warmth -
was me...
Literature
Die
Die:
Such a simple word, spewed without thought.
"I wish you'd die, I wish you'd be killed."
But what if we actually gave meaning to those words?
Can you understand the emotion, the magnitude, the weight,
Of actually seeing the life of an individual depart?
Can you look them in the eyes, as they bleed into your hands;
Observing their final moments, as the light fades from their eyes?
Or are you simply a soft-hearted coward,
Sitting fat behind a computer, wishing death upon others?
To say that one is deserving of death,
Suggests that you are ready to kill.
And if indeed you are ready to kill,
Then you too must be prepared to die.
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Comments19
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That is quite brutal and savage. Physical abuse is so distressing but words can sting even more. People find it hard to walk away from a relationship despite the abuse. It is all quite sad. A powerful, emotional piece of verse. Well done.