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A Dead Poet
"why do you dress up?"
my heart dropped, in that moment I knew. . .
I was not a lover, your muse or your dream.
I was your o̶b̶j̶e̶c̶t̶
The occupied

Never negotiate
With the conquering invaders
He will think
You are pathetic and ask for more.
He will respect you
If you refuse him
And have contempt
If you give way.
If he built a house in your garden
Is constructed on your land
Eventually, it will be yours
You sign no contract
You gave no ground
In the end
The occupier leaves
By your steadfastness.
Seranaea Jones

all my mistakes in life
add weight to a scale
of self-judgement–

so far i sense
a balance—

yet it feels to me like
i've let so much ballast
get washed overboard...

s jones

Don't preoccupy any single thought
With fears of making my heart sink;
Such effort for me would be for naught,
You're more predictable than you think.
Hugo Pierce
I have nothing to say
No words to give you
My mind is blank
No clever remarks
No witty retort
I won't waste your time
I'll just cut it sh...
******* writers block
they did not know she had millions, neither did she. just collected one item at a time, cared fully for         each one of them.                                                                                                         catalogued in eternally.

words affect us deeply.   voices  come and go.                                           while the worlds spins with  people’s chaos and confusion.       yet.           above the noise of the day     they show me birds and insects          did you know they cross their fragile legs?
I’m so scared
if we to meet
I’d loose my nerves
from under my feet

I arrive
all beat-up
while you waltz in
all dressed-up

I’m not here
to pose or impress
nor to stare
at your beautiful dress

please let this
go to plan
so I can
walk out
still being a man
hazem al jaber
lonely ...
i am ....
same as you ...
live every night ...
my tough nights ...
i live it ...
with my feelings ...
so deeply ...
while i'm drawing ...
of your sweet vision ...
my all happiness ...
and writing ...
with eyelashes....
for you ...
the most beautiful words ...
to sing it for you ...
at the meeting ...
in the voice of my heart ...
every morning...
while we complying ...
with a warm hugs ...
to **** together both ...
the longing of all nights ...
to live then ....
as we always wished ...

Good morning darling ...

Ashly Kocher
Suddenly I’m transported into a garden full of beautiful, vibrant colors surrounding me. The aromas of the flowers, plants and wildlife encase my nose, tickling my senses. I’m walking, which feels like slow motion, scanning the garden and taking in the beauty of nature. I stumble upon a water fountain off the beaten path, there’s a bench, so of course I take a minute to sit and relax. Trying to figure out where I am and why I’m here, with no one around but I’m calm not scared. I feel the energy of someone appear like it’s rising from the fountain waters causing me to break out in tears.
I suddenly realize why I’m here….
She keeps songs
locked away in boxes
like secrets.
She will take them out
like postcards
to help her remember
the feeling of
a different time,
a different person
by her side.
She likes the one
that makes her
eyes close
to see the lights.
She smiles at
the one that  
makes her stand
up on tiptoes,
the one that
helps her forget
she doesn’t know
what to do
with her hands.

The tune
will carry her.

Like it did
the times when
voices broke
like a heart.
When instruments’ strings
would snap
and hurt.
our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine
to all my lovers,

please indemnify
the bits of myocardium
you borrowed from me.

you may return them to this address:

150 Mediastinum Lane
Thoracic Cavity, DNR
i woke up and thought
i’m still tired
why am i so tired

i’m tired of being sad
so much
all the time

so now i’m not sad
i’m not
don’t confuse nirvana with being numb
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)
-DeVille's Poems
I tried to make it,
Did you all see that?
I tried to make it!
All I wanted to do,
Was write the most beautiful poem in the world.
Whole day I kept finding you in my tomorrow
As dawn came I lost you in my today .

In the dusk I owed to be your  lover but as  night came you made me realize
I am just a toy for you
"It is very important not to mistake hemlock for parsley, but to believe or not believe in God is not important at all."
-Denis Dedirot(idk who,some random old guy)
what once was
warm and close
like a kind flame dancing in the night
the heat of warm hands and
sunlight kissing the trees
now brews contempt
in murky waters
stirring, sloshing with the sliminess of greed.
Jason James
Save to drafts first

You're welcome.
Hunter Taylor
There's a place inside
My mind I find
Atrocities like to hide
Keeping my heart pure of things that would surely break it

While there's no cure for the curse
The lord's hands are surely at work
Creating a labyrinth of self doubt and confusion making my mind just as fragile as it strong

They say you should forgive your enemy
But remember their name
and I can guarantee that mine is written on every book and on every page
Of everyone I have ever hurt or ever slain
Or every person I have ever met
Written in blood as black as it is wet
They may have forgiven but I never forget
Sydney Rose
my one wish is
to find someone
who sees the world
as beautiful as i do
with their mouth
preaching poetic beauty
as i have once did
to all the boys
i have loved
S R Mats
Man made his brow
Furrowed like a garden row.

He held his own perfectly
Like eyes looking heavenward
In night skies

Searching for hope.
m h John
i spent my life trying to please
someone with a twisted disease
i broke myself down
and tucked my feelings away
to become the person
they wanted me to be
i let myself be watched
through the glass of a two sided mirror
of a sociopath
i wallowed my spirit away
and begged for acceptance
but there’s nothing in the world
that i could do
to let the narcissist know
that i am human too
the only thing that can please a narcissist is being miserable
Sharmila Juliet
She is a poem of his heart
He never disclosed
In front of anyone.
Things wont be the same after this.
I know that they weren't for me.

It takes time for these things to heal,
and it leaves a nasty scar.

But it's a scar you wear with your family,
It's a scar that keeps you strong.

Know that the sadness is okay,
know that I am never far.
This one is for you. I hope you are doing okay... I really, really hope that you are holding on.
A poet’s words
only get in the way..
There’s exits no language
for what we so desire
to convey…
Still we attempt
page after page.
Traveler 🧳 Tim
Vraj thakkar
You do not appear to me as the light of the sun,
You rather appear dark, like a curvy fabric of space pulling me,
I fail to find the stillness in you, to sail past unharmed,
You appear to me like a hypnotising blue wave, promising fun in drowning,
I know I should've stopped the ship before it was too late,
But silly soul had planned the adventure, before conscience was awake.
Darkside of you
May your word be supple with optimism
and may their cognitions follow suit.
I took a little 2C-D tonight
and prayed to move
If you’re the one that’s so concerned about the world ending
Why are you trying so hard to bring it to it’s knees?
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.
Mystic Ink Plus
She looked at me
Like I was familiar
She smiled at me
Like I was familiar
She waved goodbye
Like I was a stranger

Silence then followed
Genre: Dark
l̸̨̨̟̤̥̱͆̇͋́̀̀͘͜ȩ̸̧̮̳̣̣̾͊̀͝s̵͕̈́́ş̵̢̠͓̩̈́͜ ̴̛͙̙̤̿̉w̸̰͕̜͔̼͑̆̑͘ö̸̧̟̗͚̘̠́̾r̷̺̮͉͐̓̈́̓̋̿̆͛͝d̷͔̅̏̆̊̚̕s̶̠̺͒́͒̌͊̋̐̂ͅͅ­̨͔͔̟̯̤,̵̛̼̹̖̙̰̍̍͒ͅ ̴͚͕͔͎̤̜͋
̴͓͋́͑̅͒̊m̵̭̈́̋́͊̄͘o̸̮̫͇͉̍͛̇̅͂͒̑̕r̵̳̹͚̺͚̂̆͝ë̶͇̗̺̬͍̖́́ͅ ̵̘̙̣͉̏̇̂̏͐͑͑ͅs̵̲͔͛͋̈́̾̉̊̏͛̓͆k̴̯̳̞̪͕͂̆̌̈́͘͝͠ͅì̸̧̢͈͖̖̠͉̖̫̐͗̃̏̿͑ͅn̴̘͋­͍̤̳͓̙̲͍͕,̷̲͈͆̈̈́̂̑̓ ̸̭̩̭̲͐̆͊̓̑͌͜
̸̡͍̬̺̬̜̙́̈́̈́͝m̸̛̥̳͛̃͝o̶͓̔̏͗͋̄͌̓͝r̸̯͉̤̣̠̗͚̜̬͂͜e̶̛̓̐̄͊̌­͇̩̯͔͓͕̹̝̼̃̈́ ̷͕̾s̴̨̮̰̠̦̞̖̬̤̪̅̏̿̾į̶͚͓̈̎̋̄̀͂̓̇͝l̸̡̹̯͑̓̐͊̈́͆́͌̚͝e̵͖̰͑̎̿͒̒͠͝n̸̛̑̋̚­̨̫̹͍́͝c̵̛̳̤̻̞̠̲͎̖̯̓̎͌͝ē̶͇̟̦͖,̸̧̘̦͔͔͚̙̼̳̤̿͂͘͘ ̶̻̘̼̞͗́̍͋͠͝͠
̵̙̜̀m̸̝͒͒͐́̔̉̎́͌ͅo̸͕̙͕̭̮̟̱̠̒̆͌͗͗͆̕̕r̷̹͎̈ẻ̶͇̜̮̦͒͌̊̾ ̶̖͍̪̩̪̥̺̾̏̐̿̈s̷̡̼̲̈́ͅͅi̷̗̇̃̀͌̓̉̃͝n̶͕̐̓͆́̄.̶̧̖͈̮̲̲̺̜̦̈̄͐̎̔̆͠͝ͅ
take me out.
You were born near the warm ocean,
grew up around there,
With your clear acrylic smile
and sun-kissed blonde hair

I, the winter cold
More north than I can remember,
We met that day you visited,
a brisk chill, that December

We drank and danced,
while the years passed over
Argued and grew apart,
our greatest fears, now sober

My memories of you, once treasured
Now, faded
as sun deprived lands complain,
Forever, jaded
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.
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
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.
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

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
Ruby Nemo
fell apart too early for my little heart
lost in you, I let go of the dream to understand myself
or maybe I was simply misguided
either way, the black sun will shine on
the green grass will still keep on growing
and music stopped sounding good to me
so I resorted to spoken words
is that me? I don't think that's me. but was THAT me?
here's a consolation, dear friend
I am everything, just as I used to be
and I will always be everything, forever
and nothing I've done can take away from the Self
nothing that has been done to me can dampen the truest nature.
rest easy, don't scream
and keep on growing, still
jan. 26, '22
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