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franksherwood
franksherwood
26/M/Florida Finding solitude in a swampy wasteland.
Kids are cruel, Realizing you'll never be a ladie's man, Twelve years old, Over looked, walked past as if I was laundry, On the floor of a lackadaisical bachelor. Questions begin to whirl, Is it you? Is it me? Am I not physically capable? See I am as beautiful as my confidence should make me, Right? Loneliness heavily consumes the boundaries of confidence. Build your home on stone, Raise your flag through the tools of war, Be the loudest war cry so each maiden takes notice. But I am not a soldier on the frontlines, I am the poet, in the jail cell writing "The flag was still there." Staring at the mounds of bodies of more able bodied men than myself, Holding it in place. Ramparts are the beating of my screaming heart, Bullets sent straight from my mouth, tear through the flesh of those who find love to be aloof of, What creativity truly means. It means you watch from the sidelines, While the quarterback walks away with the girl of your dreams, Soldiers wear uniforms that gleam, sweeping a woman clear off her feet, Bar fight heroes win her heart by never seeing defeat, Drug dealers and users trap her with promises they could never keep. Yet here I am, still sitting in my seat. There's nothing wrong with making believe, I guess I just find myself pondering, It's probably me.
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Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 3:57 AM UTC
Intellect...Generally Finishes Second
Rest is a far away dream I can never attain. Not to be ironic, I mean sleep is a hard net in which the goal keeper has golden hands. Fog rules my brain with an iron fist. A job fit for a king Who's tyranny rules over the kingdom where my bed exists, Memories like film reels, keep tick tock ticking away, Reminding me why my pain still lives, or what her hair smelled like, or my mother hiding her tears while we sat in the dark, because the bill came and her wallet exhaled dust and not capital. Counting sheep only shows each mistake I've made jumping over a fence that was built with the ingredients of my broken heart. Each day is a mission, to keep my eyelids from slipping. I drive away from all my problems while they have unlimited frequent flyer miles. Beating me to each destination before I had the chance to say, "I couldn't seem to sleep last night."
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Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 6:47 PM UTC
Rest
to me you are a star of gold a glowing asterisk I wish I could hold though you seem so far away I truly wish we could meet some day but alas we shall only meet through our words, spilling and falling across this page. we are the unseen family bound by art which is better because we dwell in the heart
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Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 6:01 AM UTC
To the poets of this lovely site.
Tremors, no one will guide you Comfort in electrical hums, More than love, more than warmth, You finally love yourself. As you watch the sun blind you behind the palm trees, The thermal glow on your skin, Clashing arguments of waves, Countless grains outline the road maps of your toes. You've learned to love again, not with someone else. Of yourself, Reflections no longer smell of hot garbage, You're an A-list celebrity, starring in your own sitcom. No need for others, heaven has a height And it's you. True beauty only comes when you realize the truth. That happiness lies in perfect solitude.
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Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 5:35 AM UTC
The Awakening
Corralling my senses, Rolling slot machines, Softly purring words that disintegrate into empty promises, Forget it, I'll end up smoking alone anyway. Know your worth, what you stand for Even what you sit for, My *** hurts from the concrete stoop you left me on Just a pack of cigarettes? It's the final word, Finally focusing, What brought me here in the first place. Love lost, love gained, love dropped For the bright lights of a Vegas skyline "No", to answer your question "We can't be friends." The new one is a nurse, Ironic really.
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Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
The Final Word
They’re all happy.
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Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 3:00 AM UTC
In a Town Where I Don’t Exist
Your expectations are a plate I cannot finish I eat until I am full Until I am sick What they say is food feels to me like poison I try to leave the table But my plate is still unfinished Eat But I am full My stomach can not handle The words you try to feed me They are watching Plates are empty But their portions are smaller Don’t you understand It’s not possible Anything is possible Those words will bring more suffering And I will eat them until I ***** Every morsel of food expelled onto the table The neatly folded napkins in disarray The disdainful looks What my body did to heal me Is what lead them to disgust I am now alone at the table empty as I was
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Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 2:59 AM UTC
At the Dinner Table
Dementia, deja vu It happened to me, It could happen to you. Bed sheets rake flesh, High grade sand paper, Blades dull and rust, As if I held my breaking heart. Whenever, wherever, Brain signals fire, nothing is true Walls close in, pain takes hold, Insanity becomes the typical mold Why can't I respect the flow? So they say, just apart of the waves. I wonder why I can never just chill out.
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Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 2:56 AM UTC
The Predicament
the doctor said i have a fatty liver so i started drinking straight ***** to cut down on carbs
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Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 4:27 PM UTC
fat
Wasn't too likely, You missed me nightly, But the drug drip makes memories appear. Road lines, coerce the mind I was believing in something, Still smell the same, your wet lips on my cheek reminded me of the good days. When I was yours and you were mine. Second chances aren't easy, Guess it's you I have to define.
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Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
The Return