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These poems posted here were sent in to me by people that wanted to share their work. If the person that wrote the poem doesn't mind, thier email address will be posted here beside thier poem, so that you may email them with your comments. :)

Anyway, on with the poems.

This was sent to me by an anonymous person...the poem is excellent though...


I stood on the table-they sat in chairs
I'd fall off a cliff-no one would care
I took a big plunge-2 feet from the ground
Opened my eyes-people stood around
It was out of spite-they hated me
I'm just like them-they finally see
The hole grew large-everything turned black
Once i fell in-there's no turning back
i concentrate hard-i just can't think
i pulled the plug-now i'll sink
they drove by-on this sunny day
i lay breathless-nothing to say
i'm in-but i want to leave
all there words-so hard to believe
i just can't trust-i don't know why
so much pain-i can't even cry
the flame burns-it hurts so bad
i'm so confused-i'm happy and sad
i hurt so deep-nothing i can do
they'll fuck with me-until they find someone new
i had courgae-i let them go
what they lost-they'll never know
now i look back-was it a mistake
it was a chance-i had to take
i lived to live-to be alive
now i live-live to die

This was sent to me by: "The Invisible Person"


Donít slam the door in my face,
Donít shove me through the darkened space,
Donít lock the door, and hide the key,
Just step aside, please set me free.
You once loved me, or at least you once said,
But now it seems like you always dread
To see my eyes, so large and frightened,
And my ghostly face, so dark, but lightened.
You say Iím such as selfish girl
Hiding in my selfish world.
You force me through the darkened rain,
To hold the blade, to make the pain.
You force me to bleed, you force me to cry,
Youíre now coming closer to making me die.
Iím locked behind doors in a little lost land,
Why did you ever let go of my hand?
You madly dance around my locked door,
You have the control, you have so much more.
If we worked together, weíd make a great team,
But now that you hate me, forget my old dream.
It is as if I lost you and youíll never appear,
Youíll never return to clean my spilt tears.
You donít love me, but I still must love you,
Youíre the only hope left, for me to cling to.
Through all of our differences, Iím still forced to care,
For the binding pain is all that we share.
Please donít lock me to the back of your mind,
Donít grab me and strangle my neck from behind.
Donít force me to stare through the red, broken mirror,
And to look at the image becoming less dearer,
Because through that small mirror, all I could see
Is a dark vision of you overpowering me...

This is by: Daniel F.

Painful Life

Lifelessness in my body
No sheets are here to cover me
To hide the death of my eyes
No one is even crying

The white flowers cover my ground
No one is here-there's no sound
Darkness is not even comforting anymore
There's no light on the other side of the door

There's no peace in this sky
The wind and coldness are killing me
There's no meaning for my crying
The clouds are slowly suffocating me

This is another one by: Daniel F.


Mirror, mirror on the wall
Whoís the ugliest one of all?
The one with nothing perfect?
The one with so much wrong?
You can be my friend
And my enemy
So, why do I look into thee?
You show the person that I look like
You may distort what others see
I know that I look so terrible
So, why do I look into thee?
Is it out of curiosity?
Or simply out of rage?
Thou are the mirror
I could smash onto my floor
But what use would that do?
It would just cause more mess
In my troubled life
And I would buy another one of you
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Am I the ugliest of all?
The one who always cries
In front of the mirror
The one who always thinks life is so serious
But it so difficult to strive
To make oneself realize
That who you are is who you are
You can make yourself as beautiful as can be
But still, you can be as ugly as ever
Uglier than that picture taken in December
Because the mirror tells you
And motivates you
And confuses you
And makes you tired of lifeís endless woes
Yet still we use a mirror
And still wonder if it is our friend or foe

This was sent in to me from: Jen C.

When Silver Meets Skin

To quiet the voices that scream in my head
Pleading and longing, "Give us blood red!"
Screeching right back, "NO!" I try to resist
Incessantly, they continue to yell and insist
There, in the center of my soul, my mind, lies the urge
The pull of sharp objects I am unable to purge
Silently, feeling nothing, empty, I enter my room
On the horizon, my insanity, my old ritual looms
Scissors, knife, or razor blade?
The desire remains; it does not fade
There on the dresser the razor does lie
All that I've come from, know to be true, I prepare to defy
The cold metal touches my arm
No one understands why I do myself harm
Even I do not comphrehend why
It is not to enter an early grave, no, not to die
It is not to ease psychological pain
Maybe I am just doomed to wear craziness' stain
Cobwebs and dust clutter my mind
Normality, I am searching to find
Where am I now? Where am I from?
With razor in hand, the time has come
I glance at my arm to find a space
For the new slice on my arm I must place
A location is found
And without a sound I cut.
Sometimes a mere scratch, sometimes a deep slit
Any existing darkness was not dispeled, my heart unlit
The skin separates and blood does flow
Down my arm to the floor below
Each red drop fails to produce the calm,
Peace, joy, euphoria of before, my healing balm
My act seems as natural as a beating heart,
A lung's breath, each function of the body in whole and in part
Numb at the start, numb at the end
Now with just another broad wound to mend
Minutes pass, the red river still cascades as a waterfall
Just me and my mind watch, looking on as if through a glass wall
No matter what emotions I try to conjure up, I can not feel
Is this my forever reality? Is this real?
Questions in my head do loudly thunder
Left, without solace, to wonder
Am I crazy? Mentally ill? Insane?
Lacking in sense, control of myself never to gain?
To stop the blood, pressure is applied
Being betrayed, a part of me had died
Now bandage the cut, wait for the scar
The window once closed, now is ajar
Days go on, limb throbbing, enter infection
My secret is back; I now face rejection
This is me, the situation I am in
My destiny, it seems, when silver meets skin

This poem was written by my friend Chris , who in May '98 lost a friend to suicide. This is her poem about it:


She said it was her time to go,
Although we all pleaded no,

She had made her final decision,
Even though we could not see her vision,

We stood by her til the end,
Cause we knew we would lose a good friend,

We tried to help her out of it,
Although it worked a bit,

It was not enough though,
To get her through the final blow,

When we heard the tragic news,
We all had a case of the blues,

We didn't want to hear,
That we had lost our friend so dear,

So while we continue to fight,
We have to vow with all our might,

To educate those who don't know,
The illness that has become our foe,

So if someone ever comes up to you,
Saying for a long time they've been blue,

PLEASE help them,
Cause if you leave it to stem,

They may end up like my dear friend,
When her life came to an end.

This poem is by someone that goes by the name of "No One" :


I thought I was someone
I guess I was wrong
Because Iím a no one
Who doesnít belong
To the world of someones
Because Iím not strong
Iím only a no one
Who soon will be gone
Iím no one, Iím nothing,
Iím living in pain,
No oneís cold tears
Pour down like the rain.
A dark shadow like me
Will not leave a stain
In the world of someones
When I wash down the drain.
I yearn to escape,
I long to be free
In the world of someones
Where I can be seen.
Iím no one Iím nothing,
So no one can see
That unwanted no one
That no one is me