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    Damaged: The Poems
    Damaged: The Poems
    Damaged: The Poems
    Ebook138 pages1 hour

    Damaged: The Poems

    By Carolyn Marie

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    About this ebook

    Damaged, is a whirlwind of emotions in this poetic following of the young author's life. As one who has lived her life with Bipolar Disorder, Carolyn Marie captures audiences with her bold expression of life lessons. Each poem describes everyday, and not-so-everyday, trials and tribulations that end as a way to psychologically grow as a human being. Marie truly lets herself go in her work.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateDec 29, 2010
    ISBN9781456712839
    Damaged: The Poems

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      Book preview

      Damaged - Carolyn Marie

      Dedicated to

      Those I love, have loved, and lost.

      Who have given me experiences I will never forget.

      And even the times in my life that made me feel as though I would never get through them…

      Let’s just remember, I did.

      In order to live life you have to take the good with the bad. Without experiencing the negative, you never appreciate the positive. Unfortunately, the pain alone makes you want to end it all if nothing else will…

      Contents

      The Suicide Chapter

      My Suicide Chapter

      My Suicide Note

      My Life is Like

      Picture Imperfect

      Why Work On It?

      Why Work On It Pt. 2

      Expectations

      Purify

      No Way

      Karma

      Untitled

      The Lyricz of My Life

      The Temporary End of Love

      A Bitter Divorce

      Fainted Love

      A Letter to Daddy

      Life’s Death

      Reunited

      What Happened 2 That Girl

      What My Heart Cries

      Bitch-Ass Nigga

      Final Goodbye

      Unbelievable

      Unbreakable

      Meditation

      The Problem

      Understanding

      Dizzie Words

      Dizzie Words Pt. 2

      Text to You

      Lover’s Immaturity

      The Evanescence of You

      Love Doctor

      Its Dead Time

      You Are

      A Longing

      Waiting

      Always

      Mysterious Mister

      Last Night

      The Beautiful Ones

      Back Again

      Only You Can Make Me Feel

      Come Around

      Show Me Real

      NEGLECT

      Boy Crazy

      The Number 3

      Fear in Love

      The Impact

      Think About It

      Adding and Subtracting

      Lost

      An Ill Will

      Rebirth

      Fake Faces

      Masquerade

      Scared

      I Think You’re Dead

      Losing

      And You’re Gone

      Far Gone

      It Kills Me

      Separation Anxiety

      Distance and Time

      Getting Over

      The Truest Love Story Ever Told

      Still Waiting for the Final Goodbye

      FINALLY

      I Can’t Wait

      MY OWN JUDGMENT

      No Strings

      No Strings Pt. 2

      Is This Me?

      All That I’m Living For

      Take Responsibility

      Take Responsibility Pt. 2

      Drama Queen

      Together in Your Own World

      Dontgetit

      FUCK ME

      MIRRORS

      Love With Every Limit

      Unreasonably Finished

      Day of Tears

      Broken-Hearted Girl

      Game Over

      You Never Knew Ye

      Overseen Addition

      Here For It

      Revelation

      MENTAL EXIT

      Confession

      Remembering the Raein

      The Thing You Hate

      Forbidden

      Untrustworthy

      Quitting Desire

      Evil Fools

      Toni

      My Underground Railroad

      i live for *Sunshine*

      The N-Word

      Forgiven

      WHO AM I…?

      Separated Sisterhood

      Snapshot

      Breakaway

      Bipolar Moment

      Wanting Yours, I Have My Own

      The Not-So-Grim Reaper

      To Be or Not to Be

      Saving Grace

      Not Easily Broken

      The Suicide Chapter

      Breathe. An act in which we try to take away when things get too tough. It’s amazing of how much we act just like punks when things gets too rough. How can we be afraid to die but suicide is the first thing that comes to mind and we want to end our lives? It’s a question of what we really want subconsciously, and constantly you find yourself on a journey to a place you unwillingly want to go.

      But to act upon a temporary desire really will put your fire out. And with every bout you think like, Why am I here?. And you fear that the constant fall of your tears don’t help at all. So how many times can you go through the same thing and experience the same pain before you go insane and feel the way you never thought you’d feel? And the feeling is just so real, as you sit in silence and wonder why this is happening to you.

      And to think that to meet the answers you seek, you have to die. But why? Because I know my destiny and I’ve pulled out the best of me from time to time. Even when I left that old love of mine, I knew I’d be fine. And even though they tried to stop me, each of these feelings ride softly from my heart. Because the insecurities that start are just a part of a newly found art, called life.

      My Suicide Chapter

      I dream of myself in water. Cold and alone, lost forever. Unable to swim, I’m drowning. Deeper and deeper into the flow of nasty life and the center of never-ending strife. How nice that I can ask for help but still get the urge to kill myself. Frankly, this is the story of my life. Only to cry and end up wanting to die. I lie in the dark trying to figure out how to fix it. But the more I’m trying the more I’m dying on the inside.

      While my outside sheds few worries, I sometimes wish I could bury myself underneath it all. I cease to fall for I have nothing left. Taken. Everything that meant anything. Taken. I’m not mistaken to feel as if no one cares. My death after my despair. Will you notice I’m not there? I’ve tried not to be scared but I still fear. Fear the end. Fear the beginning. I fear losing since I know I’m not winning.

      Accusations and assumptions forcing all of these functions inside to just once again whither up and die. I still cry. And I still ask why. I’m not allowed to rise up into something beautiful because of these municipal legends about me. Blinded so I can’t see. Broken so I can’t feed my heart. Or my soul. I just lie cold in the flow of nasty life and the center of never-ending strife. I’ve paid the price and I’m stuck. But I guess that’s not good enough.

      My Suicide Note

      Understanding me and all I’ve seen is too difficult. You figure that you knew who I was. That I had no love for anyone or anything. But I bring to your attention the truth. What happened to me always happened to you. The disease in my veins hit you just the same. No loves lost, I never paid the costs. It was always you. They took from me the only thing that kept me from taking my angel wings, but you didn’t care.

      He couldn’t be that important, I swear. I wondered where my next home would be because you were too stupid to see how bad I was hurting. But now that I’m gone, you still spoke the same song. All along you wonder why I did this to you. It was you who made me feel guilty. Like I was nobody. Like the only somebody who felt for me was an enemy. It was you who refused to understand that you were apart of my plans to be free. For me to branch out into the world independently.

      I wanted to get away from you. I wanted to live by not so many rules that kept me inside and away from what really mattered. I scattered throughout the city trying to find what thought I was pretty and let it take advantage. And now that it’s said and done, I feel like you’ve finally won. You’ve won the title of that who took away my fun and my life which had just begun. All because you focused on the affects to you before the exact reasons for which you stand silently at my tomb.

      My Life is Like

      It’s like rain on my window pane. Just sliding slowly down until there’s nowhere left to go, then gone before I know what’s left to do. I used to think I loved them. I used to think I respected them. And when I found out that I didn’t know them, I fell deep. Waking up in the middle of a snowstorm buried underneath the frozen rain. I try desperately to dig out but I’m always stuck beneath the coldest pain. I’m insane to ever think that there’s someone on the outside. So should I leave myself to the earth, or is it even worth it to try?

      I’m alive yet twisted up in a ball of unkempt sorrow. And I can only pray to the script at my wrist that it should go away before tomorrow. But I feel unworthy to be around. No sound of a beating heart. No one so sincerely worried that they don’t pull this ball apart. If I fought to

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