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daphne Dec 2023
in another life,
i want to be your phone.

i would light up in your eyes,
and you would suppress a smile
as you tickle my body with your thumbs.
in the morning,
i would wake up beside you,
your fingers still wrapped around me
like the night before.
at night,
i would have your full attention.
you will play with me in bed,
even as your lids grow heavy.
when you don't sense me close,
it would send your heart racing with unease.
when i ring for your attention,
you will look for me immediately.

"in another life, i want to be your phone,"
i say,
looking up into your eyes.

"that's silly,"
you respond,
looking down at your phone.
Rama Krsna Jan 2022
between
the monstrosities
of glass, concrete and steel,
i spy
an infinite expanse of Mediterranean blue sky,
transporting me to a spiritual high.

way up there,
a self absorbed lonely eagle
soars in ecstasy,
untouched
by the noise and suffering
going on down here.


© 2022
mark soltero Dec 2021
moving backwards farther than before
can’t look at myself anymore
they made me bruise my skin
generosity is lame
authenticity is a facade
your empty promises will buy it all
jealousy resides in my heart to this day because of them
flashbacks haunt me
green lights guide me down away from reality
save me from my former
a sad child out for revenge
cold to touch
fully detached and shaking
haunting visions of time spent in delusion
lie to feel
lie to escape
feel the power behind that
behind the bile and tears were strength
i regret the times when i had it all
nights spent with myself loathing my own
a boken mirror is like drinking alone
sometimes i think im dying
but i’m not worth saving
break the cycle
but what’s the point
Marilina Oct 2021
I don’t write poems in my language
The pain becomes too real
The wound that’s left is deep
It’s better not to feel

I don’t write poems in my language
I feel detached from this ordeal
Like all this didn’t happen
But writing helps me heal
Oh swaying willow tree
lower your branches cover me.
I am so cold without thee.
You're so green and gentle..
give me oxigen and shade,
you bow down gently
as in reverence yet detached
I feel more than gratitude
I too am detached as breeze!
In wonderment of your face
feel my breeze under
your starry sky

You like a hungry kitten
sensing timing to run for it
may it be that my pyramid's
wise winds shake your trunk,
to leaveless ****
blushing in your branches?
Are your hidden
fruits any ripe
you do sway delightfully
My frozen cocoone is detached
my tiny feet from my butterfly
might slightly tickle your fancy
as I voraciously neeble on
your green golden leaves?
will you fear my strong breeze
wild Autumn winds
as your branch may get
detached.?
~~~~~.
By;Mr and Mrs Andrews.
With Karijinbba.
https://youtu.be/w82NHDRRGJ0
It's been a while
since I've written,
maybe I was trying to forget
the pain that I felt
when I put words on the paper,
or maybe it was just regret
of the life gone by
people left detached,
maybe this does not make any sense at all
this uncertainty
is not good for my sanity,
all I need in this world of maybes
is just some security.
The secure people are usually non-adventurous. I think that is what you need at times.
SerenaDuru Apr 2021
Why is it that it is when I am most alone, I feel most present?
I feel like an alien on Earth. I do not understand how I was birthed here.

My home is beyond my physical state, my home is beyond my emotions, and even my desires. My home is where none of those things could dream to reach, in all their perversity and incapability. I will not hurry from Earth, but I do know that this does not even slightly resemble my home.

How blessed I am to know what I am not.
Raven Mar 2021
My eyes are forever ruined. I see too much, and what I see melts every gold and silver I have embedded in me.
I seem to know too much, but never too much to expand beyond limitations.
Limitations of what the mind can see.
I suffer, a heart of pure diamond, moulded into what others have made me.

I see intentions, crowds of people, lies, pain, truth...
But this gift means nothing to me anymore.
The healing I carry with myself.
I am not heard and listened to.
I feel misunderstood.

What can you do when you have it all?
But something is missing...
I’m smart, intelligent and driven.
Back at school as an adult to complete something important to push myself for further opportunities.
I push myself too hard and suffer defeat when I face failure.

Failure is my only fear.
It’s scary... knowing that without self discipline, where am I to be?

Please stop loving me, I am too sensitive.
Evil, personified.
I am torn, disappointed, disgusted...

Love serves me no purpose anymore.
Buried so deep inside of me is longing and confusion.
Wanting what I can no longer have.
I push away those who do

Too picky?
Too cold, detached from it all.

I want you, only you.
I still think about you.

But I may be wrong, for I have wronged myself into thinking that I will ever see you again.

Yolan.

Broken imagery....
I was so wrong
Darling clairvoyant, please stop ruining me
Arya Noel Mar 2021
I've become so convincing in the role of myself,
I'm starting to believe it's actually me.
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