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Just like a lost soul wandering but in a body.
That's been me now for so long.
But I'm getting ready.

Still developed a lot myself.
Had influence on others.
But wandering without a future, not yet ready to die.
Holding on like that for so long.
Untill I was ready.

Tried to leave but failed a couple of times.....
Now I finally received a way out that is sure to succeed.
Still the hardest thing to do.
Very lonely.
I just had to wait a little longer....

Then one night my mom told me: you've got to end this, make a plan now finally and make up your mind!
My fiery mom.
With old Norse wisdom inside of her naturally.

It had to be my time though.
An old friend apologized to me when he saw me again.
He needed that before I left.
But now it's time to get ready, not hang around in limbo.

My mom is right.
My mom, equal in my battles.

I had to realize I need to be a true Viking.
Find pride and courage in the sacrifice.
The hardest one.
Dying in battle.
My only escape.
06-12-21
 260° 
Frances Raeburn
I just didn’t expect
the tears
at least not mine
I was ready for everything else
or so
I thought
I just didn’t expect the pain
or to be asked to explain
I just didn’t expect the blame
or to be asked to explain
 170° 
Jay M
Playful as autumn breeze
Smile bright as a spring morning
Warm and inviting as a winter fire
Appearance as that of a summer romance

- Jay M
December 6th, 2021
Blood woman -

take your hands off my throat

for lack of breath

is a side effect

of wanting you

and I can’t breathe

for trying to tell you

that this lust is

killing me
 94° 
LONDIN
I listen as he romanticizes cheating,
contorting it into “forbidden love”.

Let me real-life your fantasy.

For it would be a fallacy to judge
when I too, romanticize everything.
Secret fantasies are dreams reality would make into nightmares.
 90° 
A Dead Poet
Baby let me help redesign you,
you are a work of delipidated art,
Let me restore your shine,
      your luster, your being,
                  you. .  
                      for that is perfection. . .
                             or close to it. . .
Playing with new free verse styles (:
 82° 
Edmund black
I can always fit in,
But I’d rather stand out.

It is not worth it
If I’m not happy.
I never quite understand why people fear being alone. I've come to love my peace and solitude and it's not something I'm eager to open to someone else. When you fight as hard as I have fought to gain power over your own life, you are not eager to invite someone else into your sanctuary. So am I picky and discerning about who gets a pass into my heart and my space? Lol you bet your cute *** I am and I make no apologies for it. Not everyone values the treasure of peace.
 51° 
celestine
sólo recuerda
te quiero
tanto

sufro suficiente
pero lo haga todo los días

caminamos
different caminos

te extraño
recuerda
te quiero

te pido
que no te olvides

las mañanas
y noches
llenas de tristeza

mi primer amor
me cerraste el corazón

estas aquí

tu fantasma
esta allí

no vuelvo
ser como antes

regresando contigo
igual como siempre
 50° 
John Destalo
I was falling
for you

the feeling of
being weightless

the sky and
the ocean are
blue

like your eyes

your eyes and
Einstein’s brain

are the depths
I can never reach

but I will drown trying
to reach either or both
 47° 
Yenson
There are lots of noughts in millions
lots of trees in acres
and winds will blow in gales
and thunder can roar in white skies
and labourers will do labour
and will always lean oh study trees
or find its shade to hide underneath
some things never change
 39° 
abby
mom, i love you
mom, can you take the weekend off?
mom, can he go back to his house?
mom, i miss you
mom, i hate you
 34° 
rhiannon
u see the knife
you watch the glow
u see me smile
but can't hear me cry
u think i'm happy
but inside i'm breaking
u see the blood
then u realize
that i wasn't
lying
when i said
i'm depressed!
u wish u gave me the
support i needed
but now it's too late.
I'm dying inside...
 33° 
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 28° 
Sam
The tragedy is
there's a prison in my mind
all the thoughts that lurk there
are ones I wish were never mine
they etch into my heart
the scars I wear so bright

They whisper wicked stories
of things that never happened
or maybe things that did
things that shouldn't create ripples
in the current in my life
but here I lay in bed
stuck awake at night
eyes cutting blankly
through the nothingness of my cold and dark bedroom
 27° 
Jason James
I am crowding
The latest
Page
On a Sunday night.

Write,
Take the stage,
Believe me,
I only perform every now and then.

And I like
Reading yours
More
Than I like re-reading mine again.

I am ready.
Sunday night
Don't be intimidated
Write your poetry.
Wish I could reach back through time
  and touch those gone still remembered.
  I'm pieces of them sewn into a quilt
  keeps me warm in my dreaming slumber.
 24° 
Kierra
I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye
 22° 
Blake
I’m sorry you love a damaged heart,
I only know two sides to a story, either heartfelt or torture.
It’s hard to put down my shields that’s been guarding me for years.
I’m sorry I’m the one you wanted,
It’s not too late to walk out.
 21° 
MuseumofSoph
They’ll read it
They’ll like it
I get a chance

I take it.
Manifestations
 21° 
internetgirl
poems are just an external manifestation of internal turmoil
 20° 
Francie Lynch
The power is off.
I sliced and peeled back the plastic covering;
Exposed the current bearer
For repair.
Twist it.
Tape it.
Make the connection.
Bring back the power and light.
 19° 
Eugene Osowski
I love things
In degrees, it seems;
I love things just in ways

That find me in
A perfect place

Or just on
Special days

I love what pleases,
Not what pains

The tender,
Not the tough

It is not that
I cannot love,
But cannot

Love enough.
 19° 
graham
i have grown flowers out of the marrow of my bones
i have harbored seeds from the blood that flows
i have created skies from the pain in my eyes
and i do it all for you,
my wildflower
 18° 
D Thornhill
marking autumn's close
endless shadows of bare trees
lay on sleeping lands
©️ dt + b
 17° 
haysia
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
"
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
 17° 
Cydney Something
All I know
Is how
I feel

And sometimes I
Wish I
Knew nothing
 17° 
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 17° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 17° 
Bryan
I used to grow flowers.
Pretty little petals
Sprouted from letters.
Into pretty little paragraphs
Sprouted from words.

Now I only grow lonely.
Ugly little concepts
Sprouted from doubts
Into fetid thoughts
Sprouted from desolation.
 16° 
Leocardo Reis
It takes me
perhaps a few minutes,
at most,
to write a poem.

In the brief instant
between
creation and publication,
I am convinced
that this poem cannot be
improved.

But note,
it is never the claim,
that the poem is
any good.

I write
so that I may express
what I had genuinely felt
for a few moments.
 15° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
 15° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 15° 
Kelly
I could blame it on many things
Like the sounds I make in the morning
The people I’ve faithlessly broken
Or that I’m impossibly weak

I could blame it on the inadequacy or
How much that I drink

Anything other than the truth in these seams
Anything other than the fact that
I’m sure about you

And you’re not sure

About me.
 15° 
Brooke
When I was little
I was scared
Scared of the monsters living under my bed
I used to hide, under my blanket
Under my blanket, I was safe
The monsters couldn’t reach me under my blanket

My parents used to say
The monsters would go away
I would grow up and that then they would leave

But I grew up
And the monsters didn’t leave
Turns out my monsters, grew with me
Now instead of under my bed
The monsters live inside my head

So I hide, under my blanket
Where I think I am safe
Wondering if after all this time
My blanket can still keep the monsters at bay
 14° 
Iris
my happiness is a very tired puppy in a fast moving current
 14° 
Steve Page
Yesterday was a bruiser
Today’s real contrary
Tomorrow’s undecided
But I’m remaining wary
 14° 
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
 13° 
Jade
I’m really scared
Im loosing it
My fragile mind
Slowly bruising it
I think too much
Overusing it
it’s my fault
But I keep doing it
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