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Array ( [sid] => 90980 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Dysfunctionality [time] => 2005-04-14 19:28:56 [hometext] => Dysfunction...read and see [bodytext] => My brain's a ticking time bomb,
Just yearning to erupt.
My heart's made of ice,
With thoughts that are corrupt.

The pretty pink pills,
Help ease away my pain.
The sharpened blade assists me,
Ridding the poison from my vein.

I want it all to end,
I want my soul to stop breaking.
I can't pretend I'm happy when I'm not,
I just can't keep faking.

My life's a mess,
I no longer want to be me.
I hate who I am,
I hate this dysfunctionality! [comments] => 2 [counter] => 156 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Pats4eva7 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
Dysfunctionality

Contributed by Pats4eva7 on Thursday, 14th April 2005 @ 07:28:56 PM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry



My brain's a ticking time bomb,
Just yearning to erupt.
My heart's made of ice,
With thoughts that are corrupt.

The pretty pink pills,
Help ease away my pain.
The sharpened blade assists me,
Ridding the poison from my vein.

I want it all to end,
I want my soul to stop breaking.
I can't pretend I'm happy when I'm not,
I just can't keep faking.

My life's a mess,
I no longer want to be me.
I hate who I am,
I hate this dysfunctionality!




Copyright © Pats4eva7 ... [ 2005-04-14 19:28:56]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Dysfunctionality (User Rating: 1 )
by dreamer_for_eternity on Thursday, 14th April 2005 @ 07:45:33 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
u kno whut this feeling calls fo? A mental health day/night n a nice quart of ice cream! Figure out whut u want in ya life n whut u dont want! It'll b hard at 1st 2 try 2 get it all right, but u'll get there!

But bout the poem, this wuz very well written, the rhyming flowed wit ease, u r a very talented poet! Keep writing n i'll keep readin!

g/l


Re: Dysfunctionality (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Sunday, 28th August 2005 @ 09:11:00 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
The piece reads like a voice buried in depression. Escaping the framework of who we are -- and who we appear to be to others outside of ourselves -- is voiced well in this poem as a hopeless impossibility.




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