This is how I choose to control what's going on inside my soul
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This is a diary I choose to share with the world This is supposed to be a poem Things are rough things get bad than horrible
By Skylar Cribb5 years ago in Poets
You say I'm a baby, that it makes me childish to be afraid to walk to the public restrooms alone But what you don't know is
this is a tricky thing at first i have no idea what im doing with anything and want to cry then the next everything is perfectly in line
By Skylar Cribb6 years ago in Poets
Home. More or less on an alley on the corner a ranch style house with no style what so ever. Dingy looking and even worse on the inside.
Spring time New blossoms and blooms It's full of life However something lingers It brings in its wake oppressive sadness
DON’T READ IF YOU KNOW ME Sit down and tell me the worst What do you mean to worst part? I got asked this at 14 The therapist repeated
The person I am is Not the person I was I believe maybe I was happier or maybe I was just more reckless than I am now But there comes a time when living fast is too fast
Today I am not myself my skin isn't mine and these thoughts do not belong to me I feel as if I could easily rip my skin apart
Look in the mirror and hate what you see once you realize you aren't the person you want to be Hate has taken over your soul
We live today in a world where we must fit a mold. Where they make us squeeze tight to fit just right. In every category we must fit. For example we all try to be so different but end up the very same. We are told how many words to write.
The house was quiet the world was calm Except for the wars being fought over seas And children screaming as cities are torn apart