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Alvin Agnani Mar 10
You need a friend when you're alone in the dark.
You need a friend with whom you can talk.
You need a friend, but nobody knows.
You're simply refusing to speak.

Why is that?

Because nobody understands you.
Nobody wants to know you.
You know that you're lesser.

"The mirror is the most adept liar."

You're a f(r)iend.
Recognize truth.

You are your worst enemy.
The pool of rain shadowed the sun, dancing with a tepid demeanor. City lights' glamour reduced the light of the sun—melancholy was evident on her face, accompanied by the distinguished incorporeal's breath of air. The late-afternoon tea and dried-out smoke of snowy November. 

It turned into night; the sun was still blatantly drowning in the pool of light, where a small trickle of its shadows tantalized the mockery arrayed in her face. Followed by the sickness in her stomach, pinching herself as she naively believed he loved her for all she is. 

After all, he was the one who called her a goddess and even paralleled her in the universe in which Aphrodite takes part. Surprisingly and naively, still believed conspicuous lies. It scarred her. A mountain that cannot be climbed; a river where blood flows continuously; a garden full of thorns. The face of a fool. 

The glamour wore off when he saw her on stage, where all of his queens and muses were. He wasn't even paying attention to her, and yet she was the only one who performed on stage—she rose and fell; she sang and moved like a goddess, surprising and naively believing he could take back her youth. 

He watched her rise. 
He watched her fall. 
He watched her lose her life. 

She hopelessly believed, with her skin and bones, that he'd choose her this time. He didn't.
if my life were a song, it would be goddess by laufey.
Acid smiles
Simple lucre, to a faster pussycat
Worth your was, thus a loose while
Sweet knowing you, with this and that...

Solemn kinds of whether?
Looking beyond you, the truth to a smile
Fashion forward, and surviving the gall to bother
A season of choice, to keep the better of rues of denial?

Talk to me...
The rose and the voice of alright, tonight
The liberty in a merciful love, merciless to we
Simple news for an irony's me; my accept, my slight...

Yours again...
Set to rights, the tale of seeking how
For a better lover, the risks of integrity
With hold or archaic powers, the speed of knowing...

Is a reaching us, a clashing must?
To voice the other wise, in these rages and fates...
A look for bests is the only way to discuss
A misery followed by charisma; a sense of privilege, curious in the shade

Where sincerity is a favored eye, if not concern
Spare intention, in the paces we further to skill
Life with a stern lip, but know an eye to worth...
With the love it is given, the swallow of pride, in hell?
Hello, dawn and dread, a liberty has responded ahead
selina Feb 28
i sit and watch you and wait like a dog
always just two steps behind you and
always just begging you for scraps

as if two seconds of your attention
would be enough to fill my empty, empty stomach
as if two mere seconds would ever be enough

but you can't even give that-
my friends say i'm too nice and you just call out my name
and when i see that familiar self-satisfied smile on your face

i just become a bad liar and i just look the other way
and i go back to pretending like your bare minimum
is enough to fix my bellyache
live love dog poems
selina Feb 28
i wince because you wanted me
to love you tenderly and tirelessly,
but tragically for you, all you ever did

was waste my precious time. so, sure,
you can twist my words, do it for
your own self-assurance, but i will

note yours down accurately, for my
own sanity and art; i can handle being
publicly contempted, but we both know,

deep down, you are still attempting
to be something you are so clearly not
live love diss poems
selina Feb 28
there's this theory, my mom once told me,
that liars are always reincarnated as dogs
i've been thinking a lot about people dying lately
and i've also started counting time in dog years
according to such, it's been about two long dog decades
i don't miss you anymore, and i'm about done grieving you
(you would've just called me out- i'm a liar through and through)
and i found that if i drink enough, you're still here, well and alive
your mom never cries or loops your old playlists when she drives
your dad never comes over to gift me souvenirs from your life
your sister never learns to shape grief into an essay in one night
no, you're still helping her brainstorm what exactly to write
we stay up together, on facetime, stressing the the entire night
and she chooses premed because of a torn ACL, not a torn family
and we spend hours debating if she should submit her SATs
and grief is only ever-so-distant, yet only oh-so-familiar
we have it our way: it is never more than a recognizable stranger
i write you in present tense, you agree: dogs in our next life
i gaslight, i lose my mind, i'm convinced anything's worth a try-
so, how many poems do you think i have to write
for it to be enough to bring a friend back to life?
been a minute since i've updated this profile wow!
selina Feb 28
perhaps i kept you like a secret, but
you spilled and overflowed into everything i did
lingered oh-so-noticeably, like an expensive perfume
perhaps you left me, but you also left your presence
like coffee stains on my journals, like, despite my wishes
all of your reserved enunciations and misspelled mannerisms
still shadow alongside every line that i reluctantly write
my parents say i am selfish, and perhaps they are right
my friends say this is hopeless, i hate that they're always right
perhaps i still sing about how we were "right person, wrong time"
perhaps i still write about a different us living out a different life
one where getting to love you is still a privilege of mine
perhaps i've finally stopped writing about the day we reunite
perhaps i can't move on, perhaps i lie, perhaps you'll understand
when i tell you over lunch, on the verge of tears, that i'm afraid
that i will suffer a case of unrequited love until the day that i die
Jeremy Betts Feb 21
My worst fear realized
Beyond scared & paralyzed
the moment I recognized
the signs in the fading eyes
of a lover as she re-lives the lies
& cries herself to sleep with sorrowful lullabies
Ones only heard by the clouds and the stars they pass by in the night skies
The ones just as lonely and as distant as a sunrise
on the moons romanticized dark sides
mingling with the anticipated replies to the backlog of "why's"
that don't even bother with fly-bys
Somewhere out past where hope dies
Where both love and hate are lobotomized
then cannibalized
even weaponized
for passion triggered crimes
leaving no one surprised
Where the only allies one finds
arise in disguise
as the best of times
as the worst of times
building up to a multitude of inevitable good-byes
How was I to vocalize
a mess of this size
when I don't have the skill to visualize
loosing such a prize...

©2024
Malia Feb 20
𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯
I thought this was a cool format. apologies for the hiatus :)
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