These poems were all written by who wishes to be known only as Fantasia. Sorry, she doesn't want her email up here. :)
WARNING: Some poems may be triggering!

its something we fear
why i dont know
the cool serenity that passes with it
the control we have over it
with the control we dont
the want of it
the drive we have for it
the fear of it
the need of it
so much happening
taking giving wanting of it
that its hard to define
my want pushes me towards it
my soul the desires there help
it comes the light fades need want have.
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Why does it seem,
I'm always behind the
closed door,
to a party that I
haven't been invited?
Why does that party
have to be life?
I could cope otherwise
I'm hovering, waiting,
wanting to be a part.
Then when I'm finally
let in, out of the cold,
dark, dreary doorstep, I'm
shoved in a corner
left, trapped.
What's the use of
going in if it's
the same as outside?
If I was dead you'd love
and care so why not now?
But chin up i suppose.
I mean it could be worse,
and I'm not allowed to show
whatever she says.
I'll just face these
seasons of my life
with their changing
ocean tide. Keep on
going, of course i'm
fine! Love? I dunno
it is hard to find
Death- to me
Pain- I feel
Blood- I want
Hate- of me
Want Ė To go
Selfish- Thoughts
Hatred- Towards me
Eyes- To draw
Hands- To cut
Cut- Yes please
Death- To me
Drink, pills, pain, blood, eyes, hands, insanity, love?
Never- ending space.

When looking out she sees,
Sees a falling star,
Trying to make gains,
Gaining, then falling again.

She is looking out,
Her is all the way inside,
Screaming to get out,
Beating her up from the inside trying
To help that falling star.

No one actually listens, except her,
They donít want to know,
They may listen but they
Donít mean it, well maybe her,
Fuck you all then.

The walls are coming in,
Like hands on me
Suffocating me.
Please stop this shit soon or I will.

My blank page calls,
The light is fading,
The star is falling,
Iím sorry,
Iíve failed you.
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