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Michael Stefan Mar 2020
warning, explicit content**
I F E E L ******A D R I G H T N O W
Y O U D O N T S E E M A F F E C T E
D A T A L L A N D I W A N N A C R Y
A L L T H E T I M E W H Y D O E S I T
G E T                                                   O U T
Y O U              why the ****              A R E
T H E              didn't you stay           W O E
T R Y                  was I not                 I N G
T O H            worth your time          U R T
H U R                                                  T M E
A L W A Y S E N D U P T H I S W A Y W
I T H M E H O L D I N G T H B A G L I K
E A N I D I O T I A L W A Y S E N D U P
B E I N G T H E O N E W H O C A R E D
This is definitely a 'woe is me' poem that I put together a long time ago to be a sick mockery of a crossword puzzle.  It took so long formatting it on this website lol.  I know that it's pretty bad, but we are always the worst judges of our own work.
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
You were soft
Soft to the touch
Smooth like glass
But warm
Like the heat
Of a bathroom
After a shower
You were sweet
Like crisp white wine
Your bubbles
Rushed to my head
I forget
Like I forgot last time
Brittle bones
Are always buried
Under soft dirt
Oh so soft
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
build me carefully
life brought so powerfully
structures of rigidity
extreme specificity

you built me so sinewy
and made me free
deep voice for my decree
echoing over the sea

you made me
you made me free
and you might disagree
but,
now you can't make me
My voice of young adult protest against my families wishes
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
We used,
We used to
talk,
walk,
and cry...
together

speak the words
of wisdom
as we spent
a lifetime
maybe...
...forever

I dream,
I dreamt
...our first time...
such
a
firm
handshake
...like leather

but
you're gone
now
as
you passed
away...
...to warmer weather
This poem is built around several hidden meanings and always gets me teared up.  I don't think I will ever or ever be able to explain this poem to anyone.  I hope you find the meaning in it that you are looking for though, and find some measure of solace.
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
Your intentions remain a mystery,
Like ancient language scrawled on stone,
I do not understand your secrecy,
A perverse desire to remain unknown.

You always were so foreign to me,
No matter the hours spent at dusty tomes,
No knowledge gained of any degree,
As I searched your glyph-filled catacombs.

But in brief, fleeting moments,
I swear I understood
Your hidden dialect of expression,
As your cold air blew
And I breathed you in.
It's over before it begins,
that's my decision.
I got a heart
with fifty incisions.
Past lovers
look more like accidents.
I wake up next to an empty bottle
of grey goose or
whatever someone else chose
to lead the night.
I'm fuzzy and faded,
thirsty and jaded.
Michael Stefan Mar 2020
If only you could have been impressed with me
Then I wouldn't have been depressed with you
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