Meaningless Poems

poems that i scribble into my notebook around 3 am

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6. metaphorical corpse

this is not an inspiring poem

this is a poem about a photo that I saw on Tumblr

"Metaphorical corpse"

my lungs deceive me. they are meant to keep me alive, but they are just these deflated birthday party balloons that don't move anymore. my bones are not bones anymore. they stand to protect my vital organs, but they are just vines wrapping around them. and this blood, this blood is just cement, keeping me in my bed. my body is made up of depression. you see, I've been stuck in this routine of wake up, eat, eat more, cry for a bit, and sleep for the next 14 hours. I have convinced myself that I am an empty hallway, but everyone else believes that I am a museum of triumphs. And ive begun to ask myself "why won't anyone take me seriously?" and I think its because they only see a mess of a person, or maybe its because of the way I act. I am scared of my own shadow. I dont have my shit together. I dont try to feel happy. I dont even try to feel most of the time. but when I do feel, I feel like the colossal titan; everyone staring and trying to bring me down. its what ive brought myself to do.

my heart is made of gelatin, it no longer beats, it no longer makes decisions, it no longer supports this metaphorical corpse.

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