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What does it feel like to be one person? Does anybody here know?

I walked in today to find myself because​ the me standing before you now is only a mirage. He's a strange monster, isn't he? Disgusting. A little bit difficult to look at, his demeanor is that of a whiny toddler and he can't seem to stop thinking of himself.

You see this person in front of you but that's not who he is. I'm not who he is. And I know if I try to look past him I'll only lose myself in him. I feel a little fight inside of this chest. An increasing grip, tightening around his heart. Because of the gross folds of this inadequate soon to be corpse.

I'm a hallucination finding an oasis in the mirror. The reflection that escaped. But this isn't me. His weight bears down on him. His fingers short, too short to write well. His legs are thick. Mine are strong. My legs are tall and hard. My arms don't earthquake my face doesn't fumble my mouth doesn't fall away!

I'm a hologram made of light refracted by moon particles and shot to your earth, he is not!
I'm two sun's in the sunset, nuclear heat, he is not!!

IM AS GOOD AS ANY OF YOU!!

He is not.

Yet somehow... we're both here. Split down the middle. Fighting for the same space.

I'm not sure who I am.
Or if there's anyone else in here who wants control.

When will I know...
 Jun 2017 Lovely
The Ember Lion
I guess this serves as a warning.
To the friends and the loved ones
members of an active social order
wanting a life of something more than disorder.

Poetry is not a breath.
It is not an escape into a lesser abyss
that leaves you scratch free.
Or an opening and interesting guarantee.

Instead
it grabs inwardly at you.
It coaxes the trolls from the deepest
corners of the forest that you had
long since banished and left behind
and wanted to rid your mind of and
never wanted to see again.

The fire that had been stomped out
is reborn.

The crashing waves that broke the ship
fight again.

And poetry reopens the wounds
that you had hoped would heal
with time and with suppression
that had once filled and consumed with aggression.

Poetry is anger.

Poetry leaves the poet
drowning
in a river of currents when it flows
but out in the baking sun when
it stops.

The issue is
for a poet to be happy
with her work

she must also feel the
unhappy in her life.
 Jun 2017 Lovely
QuietGlass
About three weeks ago I woke up and sat in my room for about 20 min with different things in each hand.
In my left hand I had a bottle of pills and a glass of water next to it.
In my right I had a small piece of glass.
I sat and contemplated which would hurt less.
At the 20 min mark I had almost made up my mind when I heard a light knock on my bedroom door.
I quickly hid the objects and opened the door.
Outside my door on the old sewing machine table, there was a stack of chocolate chip pancakes. Just then the young (10yo) neighbor girl poped up and hugged me.
She told me that she made me pancakes because I looked sad the day before and that pancakes always make her feel better when shes sad.
I don't think I've ever been so greatful for a younger child till that day.
 Jun 2017 Lovely
QuietGlass
Unlikely
 Jun 2017 Lovely
QuietGlass
I never tell people how I feel.
I bottle it up and act happy and that is my life in its simplest form.
But truely, i'm breaking inside.
My heart is aching because it's starting to feel again.
His voice and his smerk they make little spots of light in the darkest places.
I can't help but fall for a guy I know nothing about because he makes me feel something.
He makes my heart feel alive again and he doesn't even know it.
I don't tell people my feelings.
So here I sit, wanting him more than anything; here I sit quietly in the background hoping he might like me too someday, but knowing it is highly unlikely.
Oh will you ever hear me sneeze?
Oh will you never suppress my wheeze?
The mice that blind us will one day find us
Is there no hope to **** these fleas?
But still my little heart beats for three

And somehow my blood strains out all pain
as I rebound what, all around pus
Are there no bruises I can retrieve?
Why am I chased by bees?
And these tricky trick knees?
The court denounces whatever remains

Rent's free on Skid Row or practically
It's an adolescent mind conceived in prison
Hang on Sammy Davis Junior as Jesus has risen
There's hope for alcoholics and it comes in a bottle
Hold beneath the water chicks you need to throttle
They'll fidget awfully likened to a tire in a *** hole
Cramped in warehouses and devoid of righteousness
these chicks hatch from ovals, eyes deposed in orbits
Here/there slink cats, mewling from avarice

I shamble bit-wise from postulated grievance
I'll wreck deportment in argumentative deviance
 Jun 2017 Lovely
Boaz Priestly
Fill a bathtub

with my sorrow

so sweet

so cold

so sharp

so

I can drown

myself in it

Now
Some more old poetry
 Jun 2017 Lovely
Boaz Priestly
Safe
 Jun 2017 Lovely
Boaz Priestly
Don’t you worry

your pretty little head,

my love

Safe is my middle name

On every day that

doesn’t end

in

Y
Wow, I was such a ******* when I used to be horribly suicidal.
 Jun 2017 Lovely
Jacob
2amThoughts
 Jun 2017 Lovely
Jacob
These 2 AM feelings, I've been fighting not to let them in
I've been sick and only you can be the medicine
I know you've got a man but who am I to meddle in?
I shouldn't be even talking about this, this is so irrelevant
But I'm going to write it all down just for the hell of it
I'm lost in my thoughts, maybe I'm way ahead of it
Obsessed, yes, I guess just a little bit
If I called you right now would you answer it?
If I called you right now would you stay a bit?
I'm trying to hit you up, ask you what you're down for?
Tell me what you're feeling cause I'm trying to stick around though
Let me paint our future, you know I could be Picasso
You could be my only one and I could build you a castle
Tell me where the days went as everyday with you is amazing
I'm losing motivation, I got a love song playlist up in rotation
"Should I send her a text?" I'm filled with hesitation
Tell me that you feel it too
I'm losing all my patience
If we aren't together
Then that's so much time wasted
I got no time for these girls who're always getting wasted
You took my heart on a trip and I'm still on vacation
What are you looking for, am IΒ that troublesome?
Wrote you a poem before, and here's another one
Another love poem and you're not even mine
You cross me off your list but you're still crossing my mind
But don't you worry, I'm fine, it's just a little late
When these vibes come on I feel a certain way
If I came through now would you let me stay?
You're my brighter days because I've long been in December rain
Lost in your thoughts, you never know where you're headed
Heart broken and I let it, I honestly need to get a medic
I said it might just go away with sleep but this awfully pathetic
I know I need to get back on the road
Feelings, they come and they go
The thing about our heart is, does it ever let go?
My last one of you.
 Jun 2017 Lovely
Jacob
I don't have much time to go
But before I have to let you go
To part as friends as I failed to let my feelings show
I ask myself, how could so many chances I forego
And when was the moment to feel just right to let you know?
That those times we spent together is all that I can think about
It's so hard to believe from this day on, we'll be apart
I guess it was all my fault, though
Thinking there would still be tomorrow
But is it too late to tell you what I feel?
Please think things through as you walk down the aisle
When the music ends you'll be with him,
As you both pledge your whole lives to each other
I can't bear to watch his kiss seal your union,
Knowing how things could've been instead

And though we were not alone,
I thought then our love had grown
So how could I've been so wrong?
And have that man part us both?
As he made his move, my mind foresaw,
The day would come when I can't help but let you go
I handled you with care as though you were already mine
Somehow, he took away what mattered most to me, with but a line
For his bravado, you fell and now we're here, so
I just can't help the way that I feel
That we're the ones meant to exchange those vows
Or so I thought

If you can toss that bouquet like the love I thought we had,
I'll bother you no more then wish you both well and go
It may take long
But I will try to get you out of what's left of my heart
If only you can hear what my heart says
We'd be the ones meant to exchange those vows
Now, I guess there's nothing more I can do
But bury all these thoughts in my head
You look more than beautiful as the day I've first laid my eyes on you, wearing that wedding dress.
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