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 986° 
Deep Sangani
To all the women I've  ever called pretty,
before strong or intelligent,
I am sorry.

I am sorry I made it sound as though
something as simple as what you're born with
is the only thing you could be proud of
when you have crushed the sky.

I will, from now, call you resilient, or extraordinary.
Not because you are not pretty,
but because you are so much more than that.


~Rupi Kaur
Heres to strong women.
May we know them.
May we be them.
May we raise them
 308° 
E Lynch
It arrives,
Unnoticed, unannounced.

Quiet,
At first.

Slow,
Seeping, dripping.

I put it down to a few stressful weeks.
I carry on.

It unpacks,
Worries, anxieties.

Gently,
For now,

Tiptoes,
Whispers, creaks.

‘It will leave soon’ I think ‘It always does.’
I keep going.

It settles in,
Getting comfortable.

Getting louder,
And louder.

Banging thoughts,
Insomnia.

‘Please don’t be happening again’.
I shuffle along my daily routine.

Claws in,
Insidious.

Screaming,
24/7.

Shame, worthlessness,
Hurt.

‘Please go away’.
I’m barely coping.

Growing roots,
Into my brain and heart.

Blossoming pain,
With every beat.

Emptiness, loneliness,
Abandonment.

Silence, Stillness,
‘I can’t move, I can’t cope.’
To tell people to not
Try to commit suicide
When It's my perfect plot
It's just a riptide

It's actually a beautiful noun
Though a dreadful verb
Like a stupid clown
Driving over a curb

There is no goal
It's all too unkind
Having no soul
And a dying mind

I wondered if I'd see you when
As I thought I missed you then
 250° 
Marrika
Isn't it crazy
how we decide to hurt ourselves when we've been hurt.
 243° 
JK
In a rainy evening with the company of million tiny drops,
The canvas of life slowly stroked the memories…

Holding her hand in the drizzle, a castle of dreams was raised.
Promises for a lifetime and beyond etched inside.
The tiny drops of love brushing her eyebrows and slowly dripping onto her lips.

Steps were taken together, leaving behind all the trails of grey,
Breathing in the warmth of ecstasy,
Words dissolving in the passion of the moment,
Sky embracing the solemn strings of togetherness,
The beat of love was raised inside as their soul united…

The drops were sunk with the malt in his glass,
Waving the glass to the sky, he sipped slowly in the drip…
Dripped in memories
 230° 
Anne J
Red drops spill from her shivering nose,
Her cheeks are covered with blue, and filled with liquid the color of a decaying rose.
The eyes on her face gleam with sorrow,
And the heart in her goose-bumped body might not make it to tomorrow.
A recent poem about a woman being abused. I can't think of a title so I just named it abused rose sorry :(
Whatever floats your boat they say
But hey,
kinda hard to reach them anyway

Sir, my ideas and dreams were hue yesterday.
Today, it's blue and grey
Where are my happy colors?
Will you folks ever be back anytime, today?

My goals,
are thousand pieces of jigsaw puzzle.
Hard to connect each other.
Some pieces are missing.
I know. I know.

Young man, always remember
Your dreams are just scattered jigsaws
Nail it to your soul
You're not a broken mirror.
 214° 
JCL
enigmatic, exotic
alone, deep in the jungle
fierce, afraid
passion, love in her eyes

to hold her, is to lose her
to have her, is to kill her
ephemeral, a ghost
a dream, a fantasy
never to be had
Written to accompany photos of a flower https://flic.kr/s/aHsmiTGp93
 147° 
Olive
Sometimes Darkness whispers to me.
It tells me it is a place of comfort,
A place of escape.
No one can find you here, it insists,
You are alone, finally,
Just what you wanted,
Screamed for,
Cried for,
Alone, with me, it looks up
With a smirk
Don’t be scared,
I don’t judge,
Stay for as long as you wish.
When I leave, it whispers to me,
Come back, I miss you,
Escape the chaos,
Be with us...

Sometimes Darkness yells at me.
It questions who I am,
Why I am here,
I don’t belong...
I’m too intense...
I’m not good enough...
What I want is impossible...
It tells at me, until I yell back.

Sometimes Darkness stares at me,
When my eyes are shut,
I see it’s gaze,
It’s lure,
It’s disapproval and longing for my return.
It stares... and glares... until I open my eyes,
And find the light again.
Those dark thoughts are visiting...
 126° 
Victoria Jennings
Growing up
I was taught
Marriage came first

Growing up
I saw this almost never happened

Growing up
My friends had kids

Growing up
I was told I might never

Growing up
Right this moment

Growing up
Means wiping the tears away and trying anyway

Growing up
Means finding the patience

Growing up
I believed everything I wanted was possible

Growing up
I learned that's not true

Growing up
I learned dreams change
And so do possibilities

Just keep growing
One day you'll be old enough to know it all.
 119° 
Taylor
may 24, 2017
last suicide attempt
everyone blamed you
it was him
he hurt you
why do you even talk to him still?

you were never the reason
you broke up with me that night
and i snapped
the only thing that kept me happy
left
and i had
zero reason to
live

it was never your fault...
 117° 
Ilion gray
I never learned to make light,
Alone
and you left with the light that we created,
together,
even through all our darkness
I'm here,
there's nothing here,

Since you left,

Carrying with you the fire that I helped to build...

how can  a heart heal while it’s still being  killed?

You weren't the only one who was alone,
under all this sky...

Looking at the immensity,

Wondering if it's open.. or empty,

I'm ashamed of how selfish, humanity can be.

Knowing how we theorize the death of our beloved sun,
simply out of  envy of its eternal luster... knowing that we grow dark and empty and eventually die...

How we leave the game early when our team is down... and there’s not enough time to go back and win... as if now.. In defeat, we would be wasting our lives to stay with them until the end.

I no longer want to love you,
because you left me there when the coldest winds came...

You left Me there....

Because even though I dried your tears....

I couldn't stop the years..

And I couldn't stop the rain.
 109° 
luca
i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.
a draft i decided to finish because it took a totally different turn than originally intended.
 108° 
Henessy J Beltre
Tall
Short
Society will judge you rich or poor
Fat
Skinny
Ugly
Beautiful
Society will label you in every form
Introvert
Extrovert
Whatever -vert they try to label you
They'll never truly know
You wouldn't allow being labeled
You stand out of any social norm they try to place you
Extrovert
Introvert
You laugh knowing you are neither
Beautiful
Ugly
Skinny
Fat
You couldn't believe those four words measure beauty
Short
Tall
How could any of these labels measure the depths of any human?

- Henessy J. Beltre
If you could describe yourself without using these labels, who would you be?
(© Henessy J. Beltre - 10.13.2018)
 106° 
Day
my lover
did not
hurt me

he
made me
oh, so wet

doused me
d r e n c h e d me
in kerosene

eyes flickered
as he
lit the match

quivered
in my
quirky way

and
found myself
A L I V E

my lover
did not
hurt me

when
he set me
on fire

i cry not
for
this beginning

but
this heart
is scared

s̶h̶e̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶s̶

flames
i n e v i t a b l y
burn out
 98° 
Marya123
When the world is crumbling down
When all hope seems to be lost
It's a gentle, harsh reminder
That everything comes at a cost.
Courage isn't hard to find
But it fades in fear and sorrow.
Yet, stay the course, faithful reader
Your light will shine tomorrow.
'Tomorrow never comes', you say
I hope, one day, you find it has
With great strength and resilience
Believe that this too, shall pass.
 91° 
Nik Bland
I fear that you caught me at the worst of times
With a heart resembling broken glass in this chest of mine
And I’d pay all I have  if you’d see the best in me
But I wouldn’t be surprised if you chose to leave

If you’re searching for sunshine, you may fine only clouds
The lightning cracking at distance so it’s not too loud
But I’d give the world to be just something in your eyes
Though it’s present in my mind that you may say goodbye

Rising to the occasion was never my strong point
Though there’s ever fervent effort, proved by creaking joints
If it would make you stay, I’d lay the mountains flat
But it’s more likely you will go and never come back

Prayers may be silent, but they spit out fervently
And I will put it all on the table if you stay with me
There’s one more “one more chance” I don’t deserve from you
Coupled with love that won’t run out, even if we want it to
 88° 
city of flips
he introduces himself
saying quiet, but slipping in, firm:

“something he knows for sure,
no is no”

I, (19, f)

replying, smiling
saying louder, firmer:

“something she knows for sure,
yes is yes”

and he says

“yes, ma’am,”

returning her smile, so shyly,
while blushing, so loudly,
thinking he said something dumb,
looking down at his shuffling feet,
covered in worn out cowboy boots

I like this guy
I like this man.
 87° 
alexa
it's true--
i don't love you anymore.

but sometimes i catch your eye between waves in the surf,
that same ocean blue i've always known

like summers by the beach, you are long forgotten like my childhood,
days and nights spent drinking the stars

i will never forget what they taste like
i will never forget what you taste like.

it's true--
i don't love you anymore.

i am with another,
he is more than you ever could have been for me but

why do i still crave your inadequacy?
he is the whole galaxy, his beauty is unmatched and

oh how he makes me feel but
why am i still dreaming about you?

i don't love you anymore-- i promise,
we moved on so long ago i forget what goodbye sounds like

i'm lying.
i could never forget the way you said that,

like it took the strength of a million tsunamis to just
keep it together but oh i don't love you anymore!

it's what i've been trying to say i'm sorry but sometimes
the emotion in my own words gets so caught in my throat

i forget how to breathe because
i still see your eyes between the waves.
-a.c.b
inspired by pablo neruda...
 86° 
Zaynub Elshamy
It seems I am condemned
to a doom of my own making
I should have stopped myself from falling

I'm guilty by default;
censured by society
criticized for said impropriety

I carry no defense for
my offense as charged;
so are they really a crime?

My mistake is my trusting
my own self-persuasions;
my personal convictions

My only shame is one
of self- blame for letting
sweetness become a game

Shouldn't my deceit
be judged by God alone;
only he decides whom to condone!
 86° 
Nat Lipstadt
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
Tit tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath


Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.


Jan 6, 2013
your effusive and lengthy comments are each a poem in their own right.  

Tinkered with June 22, 2013
With a push from Bala,
A serial peeper, thank God!
 81° 
eric calabrese
We as poets love harder
Remember longer
Hold on stronger

We as poets feel others pain
Willing to take the blame
Drive ourselves insane

We as poets give someone our all
Struggle with the withdrawal
Whether it’s right or wrong
We always give it our all
 73° 
Simply H
Hey babe
Why are you looking that way
I just wanted to say
I’ve missed you today

Come to me and hug me tight
I know things lately haven’t felt right
These last days haven’t been so bright
But I’d like to see you tonight

I want to try and work this out
What happened and brought this about
Isn’t worth the emotional fallout
Of this I have no doubt

Please come and sit beside me
Kiss me like when we were carefree
You’re the one I need to see
So come over and keep me company
 73° 
Meera
Some poets write with pen
And others with pain
Just a random thought...
 71° 
Path Humble
left my phone unlocked
on the taxis back seat,
won't be the last time

called it a few times
finally, the driver picked up

he had a fare immediately after mine,
and was now headed way downtown,
and would call later
when fate returned him nearer my office

and so it came to pass,
very shortly thereafter,

we met on the street,
he rolled down  the window
and with the greatest smile of pleasure,
as if he had won the lottery
beaming,
handed me my phone

I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred,
neatly folded in my hand  
and offered it right up, right away;
but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away
as I insisted,
saying:

"No sir, no no, not necessary!

Allah sent me a fare
that took me soon back close to you, so,
  no loss of time did I suffer,
so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"


to which I replied,

"exactly!
Allah sent you to me
so I could reward you!"


and with an equally, beaming smile continued,

"our ride and meeting today,
together was pre-ordained it was


Inshallah!" ^

something he could not dispute...

  we parted ways
   each believing,
   each receiving
a heavenly check plus,
each, credited with a mitzvah^^
on our
respective trip logs,
our humanly divine balance sheets,
kept by the
single
supreme taxi dispatcher
Arabic for ^"God/Allah willing" or "if God/Allah wills," frequently spoken by a Muslim


^^a meritorious or charitable act in the Jewish tradition

FYI,
NYC taxi cab drivers are suffering economically by the explosion of ride hailing app cars, many unable to pay their bills, earn a living, have committed suicide over the past few months
https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/sixth-new-york-city-cab-driver-dies-suicide-after-struggling-n883886

true story, poetry is there for the taking
 70° 
stephanie
i wish i could get you
out of my head;
but how does one forget a love
so sweet it
left a touch of sugar
on the tongue


sometimes the simplest
most innocent things
become so beautiful.  

i left behind your ocean
hued eyes and found
myself in the arms of a new
kind of love.
i guess i didn’t want to feel
any more rooted than
i already was.

lately i’ve been catching myself
reminiscing about little moments
without looking at the big picture.
i see the blue ocean tint in my
rear view mirror,
although leaving is bittersweet
it’s best we go our separate ways
explore, grow, learn
maybe we’ll meet again some day.
 62° 
Evan Palmer
I lost myself the other day and found myself
falling swiftly through the air of destruction
hitting the ground--crushed by the weight of my
burden resulting in a complete dispersion
of the fragments of my fragmented being
I looked down and saw the frail corpse
of my appearance laying at my exposed feet
leaving my body at the scene, I began the
search for the scattered pieces of my spirit

As I walked down the road you joined me
and I found a piece of my poise
in the fabric of your support, and you
sewed it together so I could wear it
When I walked past your sepulcher I found
my tears buried in the ashes of your
intelligence , and I left them there with you
As I travelled through your gallery I found
my creativity in the strokes of your brush
and I seized them as my own
When I passed through our discourse
I found my cognitive empathy, and in the
presence of our fracas', I let it grow durable
When I ran through your teachings I found
my intellect in the beauty of your mind
and I dedicated my fervor to you
As you join me in the search for myself
I am eager for what pieces I may
find in you, and I cherish this feeling
because it is the perception of love
A few years ago I reached a point in my life where I believed there was nothing more that life could offer me. I found myself sitting on a windowsill with my legs hanging in the air. While I never physically jumped, metaphorically I did. This event made me realize just how broken I was and once I recovered, I began the search that I describe in the poem. Each instance in this poem where I find a piece of myself is a specific moment in my life and each instance has a specific person attached, but they will remain nameless as I refer to all of them as "you".
 61° 
Virtuous
Don't tell me I'm pretty
Tell me that I'm passionate
That I have drive
Tell me that I make you laugh
That I know how to make your day better
Don't tell me I seem nice
Tell me that I'm kind and compassionate
Tell me that I'm not afraid to dream and to dream big
Don't tell me I'm perfect
Tell me the you love me despite my flaws
That you want to spend the rest of your life with me
Don't tell me I'm beautiful
Tell me that you'll be faithful and forever true
 60° 
Jacob Dunstan
The rural hours poached breaths off me,
Your shadow casts dark forests on my face
More closures than I can bear,

Something rouge has entered my airspace.

I’m harbouring arboreal love,
It stands stately, shared by you
Your kindness need not extend,

As wide as the wings of the Boeing do…
 60° 
Chloe
Like an old friend inviting you to come inside.
Familiar. Comforting.
It will grasp you in its arms and hold you close;
And when you're ready to leave, it wont let you go.
You will beg and plead to be happy,
and it will put up a fight.
It will make you think that the only way to escape it is to take your own life.
If you are lucky, you can break free;
and it will sit and watch you from afar.
Calling your name.
Welcoming you back into it's arms.
It will intrude your thoughts.
Make you think you are worthless.
That you're better off dead.
Just keep telling yourself that it's all in your head.
Keep moving. You will get far.
Depression is not who you are.
DISCLAIMER: This is only from my personal point of view and how my battle with depression has been. Even though I am trying to recover, the battle gets very difficult for me sometimes and I have to remind myself that I am not my mental illness. My mental illness does not define me.
 60° 
Bipasha Dutt
Though the lotus shares a bond
With the muddy and murky pond,

Yet lotus is holy and precious,
As our birth never defines us.

What we make out of ourselves is vital,
Only that aspect is important and crucial.
 59° 
Pastelblitz
I’m tired

Mentally

Emotionally

Physically

I’m tired of over thinking

I’m tired

I’m tired of it all

I’m tired of her

I’m tired of him

I’m tired of this feeling

Deep inside my chest

That makes me want to rip everything out

Tear me to shreads

But I can’t do that

I can’t have another 11 a.m. kitchen sink surgery

I’m tired of crying

Tired of feeling guilty

Tired of feeling unloved

Tired of forcing myself to eat

Tired of shaking

Tired of feeling empty

Tired of being numb

I’m tired.

I’m tired of always sleeping

I’m tired of forcing myself to do things

I’m tired of wanting to be liked

I’m tired of hating my body

I’m tired

I’m tired
 59° 
floriculturist
i can’t quite place,
my finger on it –
but when she told me,
it was too early in the morning,
for me to be so beautiful,
i couldn’t help but notice,
she turned the loveliest shade of red.

l.a.c
 57° 
Nickolas Niles
I remember grabbing the white candle,
The smell of wax lingering in the air.
A longing for a needle to prick through,
Blood to parchment of my skin all to care.
Remembering a time this done before,
Starting to see a pattern of my life.
Wanting all of success to be in store,
Myself running down the long strangled knife.
Backward words and lettering to be torn,
Aching a long lost soul withered away.
This young son never a demon to warn,
Slipping close of the night to southern day.
Out and away from the further realms curled,
A solemn pact of mine to keep in world.
Seven Seals of October - Seal II - The Second Solid Pact of Solemness...
 56° 
Poetoftheway
how do you know (when a broken human can be fixed)


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2644586/how-do-you-know-when-a-human-is-too-broken/

supermarket checkout line, so lazy broken down dressed,
I’m probably arrestible for disturbing the peace,
my haired piled, and held together by a broken clip,
makeup at home in
a drawer labeled ‘why bother’
my t shirt, don’t please look too closely,
yesterday’s coffee spillage outline
only mostly gone,
and the skinny jeans that felt inappropriate
ten pounds ago,
now looking semi-completely ridiculous

is this a tv show?
wallet, a twenty and a single,
who knew a pound of ground blue mountain
cost the better part of the the twenty
in that case no need for a gallon of milk
and omg a box of chocolate frosted donuts
evidence of a guilty plea of irresponsibility resignation

short $2.42 (cut up the credit cards)
and no convenient pit to fall into
when the teenager cashier snickers,
when a sam elliot voice says here ya are,
stammering a no, a thank you, and thinking getaway direction

truck safely, made it,
knock on the window
sam elliot soundalike is a lookalike as well
standing outside with my wallet in hand,
two heads taller than my ex-petite figurine

more stammering holy shit could I look any stupider

but inside a piece of brown shopping bag torn
with ten whole digits
I’ve never seen prior to this disaster
saying call when you want to return my $2.42

turns out he got, no, he is glue and paste,
an eraser man for fine lines and sad times,
and a lasso to keep me held together,
a pocket red handkerchief hanging half out
of his back pocket, never without, calls it his tear catcher

pulled out that too tight blues-blouse
from back of my closet
that still complements my complexion,
wear it ever time that day rolls around

just dumb luck ain’t much of an answer
so I’ll rephrase, dumb luck is in the everything
cause his number was 917-242-2424
and he is a gambler in matters of the heart

bust his balls when he says he’s a lucky man,
reply he ain’t got no luck at all
compared to me on that daft day

and every daft day thereafter
I glue his lips shut to mine, no escaping,
and paste a new $2.42
into his wallet
when he is sleeping mine,
no erasing our lines,
just redrawing them deeper and finer,
just making sure my
dumb luck is working overtime
 55° 
Anya
Sometimes
I wonder,
If we could just open
Ourselves completely
To someone
And have them
Understand
Our very essence
Our very being
To
Truly know
Us
...
...
...
...
...
I’d hate it

I,
Am my
Home
My mind
Is my
Abode

I don’t want anyone
To have that power
Over me

Nor do I want
To have that power
Over others

I love myself
As difficult
As I can be
...
When all is lost
No matter
How broken
Bent
Ruined
Intact
I will have myself
I will ALWAYS,

Well, maybe not when we
Invent mind controllers

But,
I will ALWAYS
HAVE MYSELF

Me,

This moldable piece of clay
Everything here,
Good
Or bad
Weird
Or cool
Although, not permanent
Ever changing
Is mine
Is what I’ve got
...
...
...
And I’ll take it
If you disagree please tell me why, I’d love to hear it.
 55° 
Marianna
i was told once
as a joke
that i bring the rain
everywhere i go

i clenched my teeth
and softly laughed
while looking at them
shining like little suns

their sun-rays danced around the room
pure and free
and untainted by the rain
that was pouring all over me

i felt my eyes turn into oceans
as i gazed at the cloudy sky
while the rain was pouring down
every single drop felt like mine
i am a cloud sorry for my rain
 51° 
Erica C
never trust a poet's words
they sound sweet at first
but you'll notice the emotion in their words
it all sounds too...
fake
"i love you like the sea loves the shore"
becomes too scripted
you hear the small tinge of love actually left in their voice
hoping
hoping it could mean something
but it doesn't
it never does
it's just the way they say it
one day, after they have left
you will find their poems, and they will be the exact words that they had said to you
once long ago
please understand this poem is in a way just me talking to myself, reminding me to not trust a man who i once loved, thank you
 50° 
patty m
A sheath of skin slips from the moon.
It falls gathering speed
through the houses of stars, hurtling toward earth.

In the eyes of a dream, I lie in my bed
fighting off birth pains.
Through an obscure misty cloudland
a feeling so deep, drags me down.

What scheme chooses me as its receptacle?

Suddenly a face congeals
surrounded by celestial bodies,
Stars shimmer from threads
across its microscopic skin.
Freezing, it tries transferring my heat,
but finds that we are two elements trapped in one body.
Dark matter, dark energy trapped in the prison
of my gravity; but you
imprison me as well,
stripping me of light.
I strain to get away, but my body is the host
you seek shelter in.

Cocooned I feel the world rush by.
over pylons in the river, holding
castles in the sky, and further still,
to dark tracks, and cold and distant stars
reminding me of treacherous winters.

Then the slow unwinding begins.
and I am brought to perdition,
a freezing hell where I can't restrain my desolation

Suddenly a far off clamor
opens night to mirrored light.
Pure ecstasy warms my skin
vibrating like strings of the cello.
In the shimmer of Luna all things
glow mercurially silver.
We climb outer space,
held in your orbit.

A face in a skylight cuts off my oxygen.
Now your sparkling essence becomes luminous and liquid
and I am one more disposable body..

All the doors are shut,
I open each in turn;
finding mornings years ago, climbing into my parent's bed,
snuggling up all warm and cuddly.

Weariness, drags me down,
I sense dislocation as time vanishes.
Pulling me through a wormhole
a star falls, taking me with it,

I touch Terre firma, emitting a sigh.
wan, dazed, and suddenly alone.

Depleted I look heavenward,
and see the Man In The Moon smiling down,
just before .
my feeble light dies.
Cuts on my wrists
hands curled into fists
will i even be missed

Writing a note
i wrote
i love you and it wasn't your fault

That's a lie
i want to die and
its partly your fault

I can't tell you that so i
Sit and i cry

Why do i
Live like this

Will i even be missed
I am not in a good place anymore
I don't want to be here!
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