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 Mar 2019 Karen Figueroa
ejb
M
 Mar 2019 Karen Figueroa
ejb
M
I wish I'd never wasted poems on you.
you don't deserve it

is it weird that I can
see the ghost of you
in this empty apartment?

is it weird that I keep playing
your voicemail before I go to sleep at night?

(I can't help it, your voice comforts me)

is it weird that i can still
taste the cherry cola on your lips
as we shared our final kiss?

is it weird that you've moved on
yet I'm still lying in bed wondering
if you're awake thinking of me too?

I dont want to wake up,
I dont want to sleep.

Locked inside a maze i designed.
i cant leave myself on my own.

Im too pleased to be my own shoulder.

I only wake up alone,
I only sleep alone.

I am only alone.


Deep in myself i am glad to know,
I am always alone.

However it seems,
Alone.
 Mar 2019 Karen Figueroa
julie
to love yourself is an art-
so i let nameless men sketch
their fantasies along my hips
to prove that i am too,
                                                a masterpiece.

**** in an antique wooden frame
that hangs by my throat
gagging on the subject of
                                                 love.
 Mar 2019 Karen Figueroa
yúyīn
this invisible monster is strong and i'm stronger,
but right now i'm just tired
 Mar 2019 Karen Figueroa
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
Where's all the good stuff?
Not all this love fluff.
Let's get freaky.
Let's get strange.
Not all peaky.
We need range.
Get odd.
Get peculiar.
Be weird, it's cool.
People don't mind.
Be sad but interesting.
Not just confessing.
Be unique.
Have some flavor.
We all like some weird to savor.
Express or Depress.
Just be different.
Don't hold back.
Let it get weird.
Used to see a lot more weird on this site. All poetry is great. Even the fluff. But at midnight I just wish there was a little more weird. One can only read so many love poems, X is like Y and it makes me feel Zzzzzzz.
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