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stationarysam02
F
"Oh how the tables have turned," I say to myself, my mind can't escape the thought of you with somebody else. So I've clung on for dear life, hoping and praying you will not once again stab me with your knife. Who am I kidding, you wouldn't think twice. But even if you did it, I'd lick the blood clean and take the next slice. Why is my heart on fire for you the most when you treat me like one you've never held close? I've said I was done more than a thousand times but somehow I've still held on, way past our prime. My heart whispered you're not the one, but I didn't let you know, perhaps afraid that you'd really let me go. I've questioned myself, a million times or two about if this could all really be true. Could it be you? Could I be wrong? Or is this just a way in which I prolong? There was a time when I could see us walking down the aisle, my eyes swell with tears, your mouth a sweet smile. I never knew how to let you down easy, but I knew I couldn't let you go. Who I am without you, I really don't know. But our souls dance together, so beautifully entwined until the next fire breaks down the vine. Just when I thought we built something back, your soft spot for me slips through the crack. I can't blame you, I've been there before too. Maybe this is what you're really meant to do. They say the truth is hard to swallow, a pain in which only I must wallow. Maybe we'll meet again someday soon. Or maybe we won't, and that's okay too.
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Jun 20, 2024
Jun 20, 2024 at 7:58 AM UTC
can't let go, must let go
i couldnt say whether it happened overnight or over the time span of a year but it all started when i stayed in a motel room one i barely knew one that sure knew how to treat its guests it said there was no vacancy but i dont play by the rules at first it felt nice to get away but i got myself into a room so fast i had to do a double take however, at the time i liked what i saw and it quickly became a new home the cigarette smoke that once made me nauseous now enticed me i didnt even mind the mattress as long as i was in the owners arms i thought it was a perfect fit but the room started to get dim i started to turn the **** for months not realizing i didnt have the keys i didnt have control so i tore up curtains and kicked at the walls never too hard always sure to patch it up but the motel had enough problems and didnt need a flaw in its business so my stay was up but the vacancy inside me wasnt and it was then my sheets that became scratchy my hair that smelt like cigarette smoke you see, i left the motel but the motel never left me
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May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
(no) vacancy
They say He is perfect Though she Will always leave
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Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 10:53 PM UTC
Confused
they talk love up, not the kind that is guaranteed the one you have to find not the one you're sworn in by. the electric buzz of your hand moving a strand of my hair the smile you couldn't keep hidden away made me believe in magic but i should know better someone that can bring you that high up can sure as hell bring you down that low your eyes don't sparkle like they used to **** you barely even look at me is it too painful or is it because you don't want to see my eyes longing for you like the sun longs for the moon but they can never be together you said you'd never hurt me maybe you cant take the guilt you hunch your shoulders to take up less space but somehow act bigger why kick a girl when shes already down don't you know i would water a dead flower for years if it meant i could see color again when i speak your name i need something to get the bad taste out of my mouth the language of love is now bitter we fell apart in the winter as everything died i was the last leaf clinging to your branch not even the wind was enough to shake me but you were tired of trying you told me i needed to stop my bad habits not realizing that you were my worst one i poured all my love into you but you were still left empty you craved a different kind of substance and now so do i.
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May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
one-sided love
the flowers are blooming but droop so fast my mind and body do not match i ache for understanding flashing signs of low battery no energy left to act happy or to fake a smile he shakes my hand and says congratulations a routine to such people im nothing special does it really mean anything if the paper could be ripped in an instant or burned to grey ash just a shade lighter than my soul dont cry for me you dont want to feel this everything seems like a lie the ambiance is alive but i want to die because its hard to believe they love me when i dont love myself and its hard to believe they're proud of me when im not proud of myself
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May 14, 2016
May 14, 2016 at 11:54 PM UTC
rock bottom
a match ignites my mind is dry it catches like a forest fire eyes gleam with flames the opposite of passion melting everything i love lips cracked throat tight my skin is a body bag my bed is a morgue strapped down inside body paralyzed an electrical shortage in my head what once made me free now drags me down bound to my inner most hatred i place the chemical under my tongue an inch of bitter just to experience color again i sacrifice being present in a tangible moment by trying to capture it behind a lens because i'm scared it won't happen again or maybe i'm scared it will and i want to be prepared but you can't be ready for everything there's no drill that would've helped me through this pain i super glue the blinds shut over my mind and keep away the antifreeze from my heart there hasn't been a rainbow in awhile just rain and you broke my umbrella i never hold my breath while passing a cemetery the only difference between them and me is they have a final resting place
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 12:53 PM UTC
Black
Damaged good are always on sale In every store, whether resale or retail No one wants something that’s broken down Except for when they see that certain person walking around town. She is shattered and mangled, but not on the surface A beautiful sight, her eyes lit like a furnace. She sells herself, but not for *** What’s given away is more complex. The idea of being wanted is too far gone, Like her dignity which left her for so long. So she lives her life always seeming distraught, But really it’s only because of her thoughts. They consume her mind and swallow her whole, And every day it takes its toll. She is worn and broken, and it’s clear to see What once was so beautiful, wild, and free Is now in the past, she can’t help but reminisce The days that were once so grand and full of bliss. She gave up when she gazed in the mirror, Seeing what couldn’t be any clearer. She’s still the same person that she once was, Except now she’s in the prison which does Consume her mind, her heart, and intent For her sins she feels she must repent. Her past is one that no one would yearn, And to this day the thought still burns. If not for that single mistake Then to this day his heart wouldn’t have a break. She sold herself, but nothing is new For it has happened to all of us a time or two. We sell ourselves short in all that we do, But what we must remember is that there are very few People in this world that remain pure and true. All the rest are damaged at best, And in the end it’s what separates them from the rest. I discount myself, but I will never be sold On any ideas that I have ever been told. When I get put down, what people don’t realize is that I have already found The worst critic on this planet, the one sitting down Writing this poem and filling your thoughts, Making you feel like that damaged box.
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
Damaged Goods
Damaged good are always on sale In every store, whether resale or retail No one wants something that’s broken down Except for when they see that certain person walking around town. She is shattered and mangled, but not on the surface A beautiful sight, her eyes lit like a furnace. She sells herself, but not for *** What’s given away is more complex. The idea of being wanted is too far gone, Like her dignity which left her for so long. So she lives her life always seeming distraught, But really it’s only because of her thoughts. They consume her mind and swallow her whole, And every day it takes its toll. She is worn and broken, and it’s clear to see What once was so beautiful, wild, and free Is now in the past, she can’t help but reminisce The days that were once so grand and full of bliss. She gave up when she gazed in the mirror, Seeing what couldn’t be any clearer. She’s still the same person that she once was, Except now she’s in the prison which does Consume her mind, her heart, and intent For her sins she feels she must repent. Her past is one that no one would yearn, And to this day the thought still burns. If not for that single mistake Then to this day his heart wouldn’t have a break. She sold herself, but nothing is new For it has happened to all of us a time or two. We sell ourselves short in all that we do, But what we must remember is that there are very few People in this world that remain pure and true. All the rest are damaged at best, And in the end it’s what separates them from the rest. I discount myself, but I will never be sold On any ideas that I have ever been told. When I get put down, what people don’t realize is that I have already found The worst critic on this planet, the one sitting down Writing this poem and filling your thoughts, Making you feel like that damaged box.
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youre probably going to dance with another girl who will taste like fresh picked strawberries and you will smell flowers blossom in her hair and youre probably going to choke down 5 straight shots of ***** and get the thought of me out of ur head and focus on the girl who is dancing with you who wants to be your apple pie but you cant see diamonds in her eyes because youre staring at the ones hanging from her neck. and you cant feel her pull you in closer because shes reaching farther behind your dark head of hair and tapping shoulders of random guys shes never even met. and when this happens i hope you run to the dingy bathroom and splash your face with ***** water and ***** up the words you never said because while youre out drowning your heart in thinngs i shouldnt care about, im here looking at the moon whispering how much i ******* love you. and if you take her home i swear to god the moonlight will keep you awake no matter what time it is and youll watch it shine across your room floor where we danced and laughed and i almost told you that you were my night sky. and i hope the light catches your attention more than the sight of her would and i hope when you wake up all you remember is that roses are my favorite scented flower and you cannot escape the light of the moon no matter how hard you try.
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 12:36 PM UTC
june 14, 2014
and it was truly a mystery, the way she held it all together she was so unpredictable the type to give you butterflies no, stronger. heavy rope knots in the pit of your stomach an uneasy feeling that you somehow became addicted to. she always left you breathless at first you questioned it is it worth it? but when you made her laugh, she'd light up like no other she'd glow like the rare full moon a sight everyone went out to see almost making you believe in the fiction known as werewolves oh, she could lure them all without even trying. she'd yell at you for starring at her but when you closed your eyes she's all you could see and you desired to see nothing else. when she grabbed you and spun you around she was the only thing in focus the only thing you were sure of. you no longer felt the need to look at the sky each night because you already saw the stars gleam in her eyes. she made you feel every emotion possible but the one you felt strongest, she wasn't capable of. she was so afraid, but never spoke of it that's what hurts you the most. she spewed hurtful, toxic words but never enough to make you leave. she couldn't fake the anger, it was too much. she was like a puzzle you almost complete only to realize there are missing pieces and you just can't make out the image. you lost your mind trying to figure out hers. addicted to the feeling the lingering presence of her you couldn't get enough and brought yourself over the edge. unaware of the time that had passed you opened your eyes to a dark room and now all you're left with are the memories on replay.
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Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
Nostalgia
and it was truly a mystery, the way she held it all together she was so unpredictable the type to give you butterflies no, stronger. heavy rope knots in the pit of your stomach an uneasy feeling that you somehow became addicted to. she always left you breathless at first you questioned it is it worth it? but when you made her laugh, she'd light up like no other she'd glow like the rare full moon a sight everyone went out to see almost making you believe in the fiction known as werewolves oh, she could lure them all without even trying. she'd yell at you for starring at her but when you closed your eyes she's all you could see and you desired to see nothing else. when she grabbed you and spun you around she was the only thing in focus the only thing you were sure of. you no longer felt the need to look at the sky each night because you already saw the stars gleam in her eyes. she made you feel every emotion possible but the one you felt strongest, she wasn't capable of. she was so afraid, but never spoke of it that's what hurts you the most. she spewed hurtful, toxic words but never enough to make you leave. she couldn't fake the anger, it was too much. she was like a puzzle you almost complete only to realize there are missing pieces and you just can't make out the image. you lost your mind trying to figure out hers. addicted to the feeling the lingering presence of her you couldn't get enough and brought yourself over the edge. unaware of the time that had passed you opened your eyes to a dark room and now all you're left with are the memories on replay.
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42
ground zero i become aware of boundaries i am a dog chasing cars i sing your voicemail to sleep there are no surgeon general warnings to tell me that *the objects in the mirror are more depressed than they appear* so how do i tell you that there are parts of my life that move slower without you in them? or that i look for you every day in emails & unanswered calls in the sunrises i didn't choose to be awake to watch that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them    stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip    stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant    stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me after people always ask what was loving her like? after a really long silence i just say "it must be nice" but i never say it's watching paint dry i never say it's a window seat in hell i don't tell anyone about the dreams where i am reading you bedtime stories each one is a different way you die & every time i can never save you dreams where what i think are angels in my bedroom are just homeless versions of myself you never loved i have dreams where i pay someone to shoot me just to see if you would cry just to see if you would cradle my body i don't tell people that loving you is like playing piano for someone who can't hear that it's hitting repeat on my favorite song & forgetting the words every time it starts over that it's finding out there's no milk after you already poured yourself a bowl of cereal it's getting locked in the dark & being told to look on the bright side that loving you is like being reminded of what it felt like the first time you accidentally let go of a balloon as a child it's drowning without the water it's the feeling you get when you start to dance & the song ends
0
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 10:51 PM UTC
stages of detachment
ground zero i become aware of boundaries i am a dog chasing cars i sing your voicemail to sleep there are no surgeon general warnings to tell me that *the objects in the mirror are more depressed than they appear* so how do i tell you that there are parts of my life that move slower without you in them? or that i look for you every day in emails & unanswered calls in the sunrises i didn't choose to be awake to watch that i sometimes still stare at doorways hoping you would walk through them    stage 1 you tell your new lover you've got a splinter and they pull the sound of your body falling asleep on mine out of your fingertip    stage 2 your new lover says something at dinner that makes you choke so they call 911 & the paramedics do the hymleich not knowing you would ***** our promises all over the the restaurant    stage 3 your new lover surprises you by cleaning the house & washes the shirt you kept next to the bed, not knowing it was the last thing you had that smelled like me after people always ask what was loving her like? after a really long silence i just say "it must be nice" but i never say it's watching paint dry i never say it's a window seat in hell i don't tell anyone about the dreams where i am reading you bedtime stories each one is a different way you die & every time i can never save you dreams where what i think are angels in my bedroom are just homeless versions of myself you never loved i have dreams where i pay someone to shoot me just to see if you would cry just to see if you would cradle my body i don't tell people that loving you is like playing piano for someone who can't hear that it's hitting repeat on my favorite song & forgetting the words every time it starts over that it's finding out there's no milk after you already poured yourself a bowl of cereal it's getting locked in the dark & being told to look on the bright side that loving you is like being reminded of what it felt like the first time you accidentally let go of a balloon as a child it's drowning without the water it's the feeling you get when you start to dance & the song ends
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