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Please lend me an ear
Though you hold me close , please hear
Why and when I fear.
I miss watching your words,
always carefully chosen,
light up my screen.

I miss your laugh,
the way it was slightly different,
when you were talking to me.

I miss your face,
always carefully controlled,
even when I knew you were itching to smile.

I miss you.
When there is a storm outside,
you take shelter in your home
till the storm passes.

What do you do
when there's a storm
inside you?
How do you run away?
Where do you hide?

All you can do is
stay in it-
let it tear you apart.
 13h CantSeeMe
alex
I don’t get to see you
too often,
but I don’t blame you
for what you did.

You couldn’t stay,
and that’s okay.
You always try
and sometimes lie,
but I won’t hold a grudge-
who am I to judge?

You tell us
you still love us,
and I know that.
So we can chat,
and i’ll sit with you a while
then you’ll feign a smile

But I see how it hurts you
your start anew,
your empty home.
I see your eyes like chrome.
You never stay too long
and your voice doesn’t sound as strong…

It’s hard to pretend,
and even harder to try to mend…
But anyways,
I’ll stop this haze-
I just wanted to say:
Happy Father’s day
 13h CantSeeMe
Lyle
I woke up tired
thunder rolls
inside of me
and outside my window
the rain falls
steady
but my eyes are dry
for the first time in weeks
I didn't get any sleep
but the sky showed its anger
so it's okay
Millions around,
Yet loneliness I feel profound.
No matter the bonds I try to weave,
They drift away, leaving me to grieve.

I mold myself to fit their gold,
Chasing warmth in hearts grown cold.
But every hope shatters in vain,
Fragments lost in endless pain.

Splintered into countless pieces,
A puzzle no one sees nor fixes.
Seeking solace beyond my mind,
I’ve forgotten the peace I’ll never find.

Drenched and weary in a ceaseless storm,
Fear grips me in the still of night.
Lost in shadows, shunning the fight,
Lost in whispers, fading from sight.

I stand alone, where cold’s the norm
I stand alone, abandoned by everyone.
I feel I have a big heart,
Does that mean a lot?
Or is it something that
Somehow holds me down.
A blessing that feels like a burden.

Sometimes I hate it,
Sometimes I resent it.
Because I have no control
Over what I feel.

I overthink my brains out,
Apologizing for simply existing.
Forgiving wounds so deep,
Too easily, without much thought.
Even when it leaves me empty.

Worrying over people
Who wouldn’t flinch if I disappeared.
Draining my social battery
To the last drop where it doesn’t exist.

I feel guilty for actions
That I had no control over.
Making me rethink my past,
Where I was a name on a list,
Never a person in their story.

I stand among many,
But belong to none.
Because they never loved me,
The way I have loved them.
For all the people who overthink and are forgiving, this is something for you.
I was forced,
To give my heart.
I was forced,
To give my soul.
I was forced,
to give my thoughts.
I was forced to,
To give all of me,
As a whole.
They didn’t show no mercy.
Each attack.
They didn’t get karma,
I didn’t get revenge.
They served my life,
On a ******,
Platter.
They used me,
To there full extent.
Know I’m left wondering,
If I’ll ever come back.
To my childhood,
I dreamed of.
That I thought was perfect.
But those 2 years,
In school.
THAT day.
a physical scar,
That life,
Is a force,
That can rip your,
Life away in a second.
I still think why I let this happen.
The answer,
Is the threats.
I will forever live,
That what happened,
wasn’t true.
But I can’t help but wonder…
What would have changed—
If I had spoken up more?
If I had told them right away?
If I had fought?
But,
I was forced.
now I worry,
That even now,
I’m left here to decay.
THAT day in those first two years of middle school was home to all I knew…
Pain. The SEVERE bullying…the assaults…the concussion(s) I endured
They never got reprimanded— and I never got revenge. So know Im hurting with regret— for not trying harder. But here I am.
 16h CantSeeMe
Artis
Running out of pages,
these words—
they turn into
a jumble of thoughts
no one can understand.
A work of art,
running out of ink,
that never came to be.

Roots—
they never blossomed,
they withered away,
drying up
under a pile of soil.

I'm ripping out pages
in anger,
clinging
to words
I might not even believe in.
One by one,
just to leave them
crumbled,
dust,
turning—
into sand.

The wind picks it up,
flipping to the next page,
that’s already starting to crumble.
My pen
starts to write
on its own.
💗
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