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AnxiousOcean Nov 2017
Time may heal your wounds
but only God can love your scars
Perfect love for the imperfect
AnxiousOcean Nov 2017
plain dark yet I see thousand skyscrapers
emptiness filled with nothingness
and my pocket bleeds the word I spit
my eyes get drowned from its sweat
everyone is nowhere
and so are my emotions
like an old shell left because it's weak
heavy enough to be lifted up
silent, but not peaceful
wildfire slowly tearing down every walls
yet I hear happiness from the other side
it's far, but I know it is meant for me
they're happy when I'm alone
they're happy that I am alone

but it's fine
it is fine with me
it is fine with everyone who gets used to reality
Sorry for my nonsense
AnxiousOcean Nov 2017
pain is with him
they never drifted apart
not even once
the sun knows the truth
and so does the moon
yet everyone knows not
because every time he bleeds
all he bleeds is ink
I'm sorry if I did not give my poem any justification, but all that I want to say is, everytime I feel pain, I write a poem instead of telling them directly that I am in pain. Because I am so sensitive. and I feel so sorry for being sensitive. God Bless
AnxiousOcean Nov 2017
No one will know you bleed
if all you bleed is ink.
Keep on writing. This is not a poem, it's just a quote for all the poets out there trying to express their pain through words. But the world is too deaf to hear our screams behind lines.
AnxiousOcean Oct 2017
you’re the best song that ever drenched my ears
a story filled with wines and tears
the umbrella that kept my rains from my lips
a moon that lights beyond an eclipse
pain that is worthy to be felt
a mistake that I’d commit till I melt
you are a past where I have been
the present that cannot ever be seen
a future that I will never have
and the memory that shall be always loved

I better get out of the woods
AnxiousOcean Oct 2017
I once descried chained feathers in the sky;
they swim from the swift breeze, so high.
Wings do falter, yet one still went by.
Ensnared on a garden; I yearn to fly.
AnxiousOcean Oct 2017
night is when everyone will love you the most
it is when you take a bath and get clothed
they will walk you down your bed
they'll sing you to sleep
cover you with some sheet
will give you hugs like it's the last
and kisses so strong, quite so vast
you might have heard the most precious words
but no, you couldn't, you are asleep on birds
they throw soft things that you barely feel
the rain pours but will not heal

they are thankful that they have you
and they're thankful that they had you
Thinking about death?
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