"It's Better Than the Truth!"

[sylvey]

In the girls' bathroom, in the corner stall
Under the latch, an untidy scrawl
Written under the broken light
Through the haze of cannabis
And harsh, taunting calls
"I just want to die, just let it end."
Though everyone has surely seen it,
It seemed nobody cared at all
It's just another piece of gossip
To be whispered in the halls
Clearly I'm just your "typical angsty teen"
With my "typical angsty teen" thoughts
With my "typical angsty teen" clothes
And my own typical "angsty teen life"
That I just want to leave behind to rot
I can't do it anymore, endlessly though I try
But futile are my efforts,
Lost from the very beginning
Was the battle I so tirelessly fought
I wasn't ignorant, just so, so weak
But there is no suffering
That yields any meaningful reason
No point in asking the fruitless "why"
Like "Why is it this way?"
I wouldn't ask if I dared
"Why won't anyone help?"
And I now know it's because nobody cared
Not enough at least to have faith in my pleas,
Choosing instead to run scared.
I'm sure you see my reasoning,
The logic behind ending my life
You'd never ask "why" to a robber
Unless you want his blade in your skin
There is no greater enemy or ally indeed,
Whether you bleed out and lose or make them bleed and win
No greater mercy or danger,
In times of peace or in strife
Than the cold but warm embrace of death
And a cold, steely knife.

 

[WAITING TO DIE]

Nice.
You write well.

 

[sylvey]

Nice.
You write well.

Thank you, though this is honestly one of my mid ones.

 

[WAITING TO DIE]

The flowers in my garden grow down.
Their color pain.
Their fragrance sorrow.
Into my eyes grow their roots, feeling for tears, to nourish the hopeless black rose within me.

 

[sylvey]

The flowers in my garden grow down.
Their color pain.
Their fragrance sorrow.
Into my eyes grow their roots, feeling for tears, to nourish the hopeless black rose within me.

The flowers of mine own garden grow down
Shaded to the tint of my pain are their petals,
Sweet is their fragrance drawn from my sorrows
Their roots plunge into my eyes,
Seeking nourishment from my tears,
Longing to nurture back to life
The pitiful and moribund black rose
That wilts deep within me.

 

[WAITING TO DIE]

The flowers of mine own garden grow down
Shaded to the tint of my pain are their petals,
Sweet is their fragrance drawn from my sorrows
Their roots plunge into my eyes,
Seeking nourishment from my tears,
Longing to nurture back to life
The pitiful and moribund black rose
That wilts deep within me.

Yours is better than mine.
Nice.

 

[sylvey]

Yours is better than mine.
Nice.

Nah, you're a good writer too.

If you ever want help or a proofread, my PMs are open.

 

[WAITING TO DIE]

Nah, you're a good writer too.

If you ever want help or a proofread, my PMs are open.

Thank you, and likewise.