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i remind myself
you can’t feel
a wound on your skin
as it heals
but little by little
it is

so the wounds
on my heart
must be the same

i should be patient.
even if i can’t feel it, it must be happening
Jake B Rydell
Painted painted painted painted painted
paint paint paint paint paint
It’s hard to describe an overload
When the in comes in and it just won’t go
I stare at a wall, I shake, say no
But I can’t say no when the shutters close
I can’t say no when there’s no more no
And all there is is green and pink and paint
Paint paint paint paint paint
There’s no one thing that makes me go
A tindered flint to ignite my woe
It could be anything: hair, a cat, the snow
But today it was paint
The word alone made me quiver
Shake and tremble like the words of winter
I stared at the wall to shake the feeling
Locked myself down ‘til my senses stopped reeling
And soon I was feeling and seeing, alive
The tidal wave ceased, it didn’t crash but subside
And I was still here, claw marks in my sides
With the smell of the paint just waiting outside.
I would gladly die a whisper
on the tip of your tongue.
I love it when I can feel you watching me

I love it
when I turn towards you to tell you a joke
and find you
already grinning at me

I love knowing that you like me
Even if you don't love me
I’m used to pulling all-nighters.
I’m used to very little sleep.
It’s the story of every insomniac.
But when I take a hit or do a line,
I’ll be awake for days at a time,
staying high enough to chase awake sleep.
I am on my fourth day of a binge,
and sleep continues to evade.
I don’t know if it would be worse
if i simply wait out the comedown,
or if i continue my breakdown.
This poem has no meaning
It's literally a bunch of words
I don't mean to sound demeaning
I'm not going for any awards

The title is wacky
The lines rhyme
None of this makes sense
I'm wasting your time

Words jumble and mix
Put in no certain order
I don't think I can fix
Any of this disorder

Help me please
I'm running out
of lines

Oh look
It's breaking
Guess I'll
close the
I wrote fantasies and I wrote about sleep
I wrote about demons and
how they danced around a fire in my dreams
I wrote about skeletons in my closet that suffocated me
I wrote about monsters that I rolled around with
In my sheets and when “I love you”
Used to sound sweet
I wrote until my brain stopped flooding and my fingertips began to bleed

       i wrote until it
          Became easier to
Ivan Lopez
I want to spill in laughter,
not mimic all your actions
I want to feel what joy is
not dissatisfaction  

I want to say Im happy
and believe the words I say
I want to please a smile
not force it every day

I want to be a human
who's role isn't a play
I want to act all natural
not perform for a matinee
It is difficult to be myself in front of my coworkers or even strangers. Because I don't want to say that I'm fine or that I'm great or that I have no emotions like pain. Im suffering, I want people to know. But at the same time I never want them to be burdened by my troubles or fears.
To hold back doesn't feel smart
There so much in my heart
But to say it would rip us apart

Or am i just scared
Of your words
What's said cant be unheard

My gut tells me the truth
But it said aloud wont sooth
And probably wont change things but confuse

I want to charge into the sun
To make memories and have fun
Your cookie dough still not done

And I dont have the right to take
what's not mine, or cause it to break
I don't want to be a mistake

So I swallow it down,
I dont want you to frown.
It's a basic poem but my heart is in it
an obsessive personality like mine
hears the first chord of
track twelve
before track eleven even ends
in the same way
i hear my heart break
before you even say your name
do you ever listen to an album
so many times that you know
exactly what song comes next?

some of us have heard goodbye
as many times as we’ve heard
track twelve
They will tell you
All poetry has been written
There is nothing new
Under the moon
But let me tell you
They don’t know you
You are as unique
As the DNA that exists
Within your frame
The ripples on your thumbprint
No one ever had the same.


You have something to say
Say it proudly
Say it boldly
Never let them scold you.

Never let them make you go away.
I love it when someone tells me to keep writing. You should keep writing too!
Love's only weakness
Is also its greatest strength:
It defies reason

My thoughts on Valentine’s Day
It´s such a shame
that u were interested in the first place
I´ts such a shame that u gave me these signals
I´ts such a shame that u saw me the first time
It´s such a shame that u gave me your number
I´ts such a shame that it was all for nothing
Such a shame that u never texted me,
Such a shame that it never had a meaning,
Now I´m left with insecurity and a hopeless mind.
-Love will always fool us
-Never lose the trust in urself
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
You were the one to keep me safe,

Helped me get over my fear,

Pushed me to go beyond the limit,

Stopped me from crying,

Told me around, three billion times that I am beautiful.

You were the one that took my heart away,

Helped me remember what love was,

Pushed each other closer together,

Stopped my anxiety from getting the best of me

Told me around, five billion times that you believe me.
This is for you diane.
I am in love with the way you avoid me
It reminds me of myself
Donall Dempsey

I like to say
your name

when you're
not here

turn you
into sound

conjure you out of
thin air

so that you appear
before me

dressed in sound

memory sketching in
the rest of you

as if sound
was just an outline

and love
colours you in

adding the voice last
so I can hear you say.

"Hello you..!"
and there you are

as present
as present

can be.

I like to say
your name

when you're
not there.
Mark kenny
The vision of how a modern day poet is viewed
I can imagine you all bringing your pen out the view.

Don't be discouraged by the content of my messages don't be misinformed
Little bit of expression on my end I already sound like am misinformed.

Don't forget that I gave an interesting poem just now
Never relate with the new information I just acquired just now.

Back on the scribbling brick I really need a new desire
Modern day poet  I won't stop until I miss the desire.
I guess I don't do justice to writing the right way.
This disease struck me
Like a brick on pavement

Everything was
Then that brick came along
And with the slightest movement
Destroyed everything

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
The voices say

Why can’t I let them go?
They keep repeating:

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Why won’t they stop

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
I don’t understand

“Count it
Perfect it
Measure it
Clean it”
Someone just HELP me understand

This disease is about
But it's the biggest
Imperfection about me
It seems so simple and effortless to become a poet
Just write out your emotions and be vibrant with the pain through your words
Simple enough..
Now what about when you're trying to hide your adversities..
While trying to be transparent about your feelings?
Or how about performing in front of large groups of people..
While trying to detain your tears and imprison the pain
Is it still so uncomplicated?

Poetry is a gift..
Katelyn Billat
I think of the nights in your car.
Watching the stars.
I pointed out the ones that fell,
While you watched me from the driver's seat.
One night I saw three,
Set ablaze by gravity.
I silently wished upon them
For it to always be that way.
You telling me such sweet things.
Making me feel wanted and understood.
Sliding your hands through my hair.
Fingertips dancing across my skin.
You didn't pay attention to
The falling rocks,
You watched as my heart fell
From the sky and right onto your lap.
You were the one person
That made the world disappear.
Now we're strangers.
You've hurt me like I've done to others.
Past pain floods in my ribs.
I suppose the tears
Are just the ones I owe.
Butch Decatoria
Break him down, then build him up—both requires strength.
moon child
"I'm an open book"
She says

Written in
thank you
for the
that no
are they**
than my voice.
**anything/anyone trying to tear me down, whether mentally or situational

!!Don't forget to get out to those polls!!
Change is coming.
ok okay
So many people focus on finding love
I'm too busy finding myself
Beda Flores
" I dream that i am in a garden full of red roses
and all of a sudden i see
a beautiful white rose right in the middle
and as i keep walking towards it
the rose moves farther away
and all of a sudden
i am in a place where
everything is just so perfect
and i know it's rare but
is this heaven or not"
About what you could do with people
Is how you could
Do for yourself and love one.
There’s more in life
If you don’t take your
You will never know.
Life it self
About you have the control
Not someone else
Controlling your life.
Live , laugh and love.
sandra wyllie
of you second-guessing me
he said. He sounded perturbed
on ever word.

I’m sick
of your rage
he told me before. But if he
lived the violent life I had
he’d have some rage for sure.

I’m sick
of being lovesick
over you. Sick of you making
promises that you never kept. Always
saying that you’d be there –
then left
fighting to get back
a semblance that was

I’m sick
because I relied on you
and then
you broke my heart

I’m sick
of being sick
and never
getting fixed!!

And I'm too sick to start!
From the day I told her I was crazy about her,
She did all to hurt
Fell in love with a mutual friend
To keep me at bay
If only I had my way
I would make it end
Not their relationship which is hot,
But my love for her
Cos I'm I bleeding for nothing
Bleedingfornothing Lovehurts
When I try to understand,
The knots in my brain tighten just that little bit more.

I'm sorry we failed you.
Yamuna Turco
I wish
I wish I liked STEM
I perpetuate the stereotype,
women studying English,
and art,
and languages

My love of the arts,
and the humanities,
Is regressing women's history

But it is my right
My right to study art,
and languages,
and theatre

Women's empowerment
And fight for equality,
is so I can study humanities,
and Tiera Fletcher could study rocket science
And when you left
I overwatered all your flowers
New Genesis
My intuition is metallic
My amnesia is epiphanic
My existence is enigmatic
My ideas are problematic
You stand there and laugh
At your pedestal  
As if you’re better than me
But are you?

We both come from dirt
And will be dirt.
There are many things I find beautiful:

Boys who love flowers,

children laughing,

flower crowns.

Drawings on wrists,

shimmery eyeshadow,

dainty jewelry,

worn pictures,

hands covered in acrylic paint,

but all the while,
nothing can compare to you, love.
For you, are the greatest beauty of all.
You don't know
why the dog is
afraid of you:
I do.
You don't like the fear? Do something about it.
i did everything
for you
so now
i don’t know me
Quinn Adaire
Everything is my fault.
I know this.
I know it’s my fault I get overwhelmed
And make a bunch of mistakes.
It is my fault, right?
If I asked for help more,
Maybe I wouldn’t be overwhelmed,
So I could think more clearly.
It’s my fault that I didn’t ask for help.
It’s my fault that my Mom got mad
Because I tried to walk away.
I just really needed to walk away
Because reality is too hard.
So now I’ve accidentally disrespected my Mom
And it is my fault.
I won’t blame anyone else.
I think I secretly want to though.
I don’t want it to be my fault
But it is anyway.
My mistakes are my fault.
They say mistakes are human.
I am very human.
Or maybe
I make so many mistakes
That I am no longer human
Because surely
The average human is not
Such a disappointment as me.
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