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time only serves
to torment me

taking all the best moments
and erasing them
a little bit at a time
until i can barely
recall the things
i used to care about

the world around me
is often
suffocating
making me feel
as if a boa constrictor
is squeezing
tightly around me

i have been crushed
into little
ugly
icky
piles of dust
because of my
inability
to avoid
falling in lust
and the amount of times
i‘ve left my heart out in the rain
it’s just layered
and coated
in rust

i am stuck
on repeat
like a skipping
disk
always taking
a risk
when i find myself
getting too comfortable
then letting
all my progress
go to ****

my brain
is sometimes
kinda smart
but my heart
is the biggest idiot
which is why
so often
i try not to admit
the stupid ****
that hides
deep inside of it

the life i thought i knew
is crumbling beneath me
and i keep falling through
hitting each and every obstacle
that has found its way
into my existence
there’s no point
in showing resistance
i keep falling and falling
but i never
finish
going
the distance
Àŧùl Apr 7
And he had said,
"Ladakh is a barren piece of land,
Let the Chinese have it,
Nothing grows over there,
And it's a useless piece of territory,
The lesser the liabilities for my government,
The better."

And the Chinese still sit in Aksai Chin,
That part he called barren,
It's our lost land that China usurped,
Yes, the expansionist China,
And how shamelessly he escaped his duty,
His responsibility to maintain the integrity,
Of our nation he ought've known the nitty-gritty.

But now we face an uphill task,
That Hindi-Cheeni Bhai-Bhai,
It's now a laughing stock,
Yes, sir, people laugh at it,
Albeit less than they do at your scion,
The same scion who has nil experience,
And simply a negative IQ, perhaps.

But that was just one of your mistakes, sir,
How can we forget your ambition to be the Prime,
Even at the cost of the national integrity,
You let them unleash a rein of terror,
Both the sides suffered civilian casualties,
Not just the dead I refer to,
I also refer to the ***** and mutilated.

You behaved so power-hungry,
So irresponsible and immature,
So ignorant and inexperienced,
So unwise and unintelligent,
Of that post, oh sir,
That position that you won by your clout,
You knew that Bhai made a better choice.

Yet you felt entitled to the post,
By the mere virtue of your birth,
Born with a silver spoon in your mouth,
Linen sheets underneath your body,
Much like your dumb scion,
Yes, the very same one who fumbles.

He fumbles in his speech,
And in his lack of preparation,
The Grand Old Party, it trembles,
Trembling under the unwanted burden,
Voices of dissent grow louder,
The Party you usurped is slipping away,
Drifting further everyday.
My HP Poem #1962
©Atul Kaushal
knowing full well
the pain it causes
and the knowledge
that it will only
make it worse
i still bite
and pick and pull
at that jagged edge
of my finger nail;
more often than not
the finger is left
bleeding and aches
for so long after
halfway along a mired path
with no option but
to gingerly retrace
their mud-caked steps
or simply struggle onwards
careful of each squelch
along that mud-caked path
the dog sits blithely at heel
appearing miserable
in this drizzling rain
but patient for his reward
and willing to wait
following unconditionally
while the man considers
his options and
the next poor decision
he is liable to make
if i could just
find the trick
to remembering
that i was right
               all along
for a change
that deadened fingernail
first damaged long ago
not quite a lifetime but
time enough
          to feel that way
is showing signs of regrowth
partially shrouded but visible
beneath the lingering ruin
the fingertip was caught
ensnared and pressed
more firmly than
          could be endured
though care was provided
the bruising ran deep
and undermined any chance
of this body's repair
unexpectedly
          and unimaginable
in spite of this layer
of lamented keratin
there stretched forth
a sudden burgeoning
a crescent of cuticle
          and lunula
telling of the strength
of the fingernail to come
Jupiter was visible
yet again tonight
a symbol of tolerance
and understanding
     or so i have read
shining bold and proud
yet unwittingly misleading
to those who might look
contradicting the import
of ever-present Polaris;
but to me
ruled as i am
by nothing less than
the magnificence of the Sun
it is merely
another distraction
to confound this search
for my true north


.......................................................
Amanda Kay Burke Oct 2023
Demons are God's mistakes

Angels that could not quite make the cut
I am an atheist but I like to use a little artistic liberty from time to time when wrting
Phia Aug 2023
As the smoke clears
I am left with the perfect image
Of the destruction I caused.
Here the air is heavy,
The weight of my mistakes
occupies all of the space in my lungs.
And tonight,
As I stand alone,
The urge to etch my flaws
Into my skin
Overwhelms me.
It craves the kiss of cold metal.
I am fighting a never ending battle
And my body keeps the score.
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