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What do you regret most in life ?*
The moments I regret the most were you
The moments I shared with you
The moments I wasted on you
The moments I thought about you
The moments I cared about you
The moments I regret the most
Was any moment that has do with
You
Including every poem
I made about you,
Because you were
The only thing that
Motivated me
I regret it the most

All of it
Mi'Ja <-----    Big help
Poetry has become my self harm,
I only write at my lows...
Instead of blood I see words,
Instead of a blade I have a keyboard...

I want to write about...
The wind dancing with the sea...
Or...
The way you smile and it lights up your innocent face...

I don't want poetry to be my self harm,
Because poetry is beautiful...
An art...
Not.
Just.
Blood.
And.
Scars.
Judge away... I'm trying to not care... No matter how much I do ...
 Jun 2014 The Hated Poet
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Home
 Jun 2014 The Hated Poet
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I realized tonight
that you are everything I wanted.
As we sat there in silence,
I looked at you for a moment
and I smiled at you.
And I don't know if you saw it
but know that it was real.
I felt like it was you and me all alone in this world.
Like we were driving on an empty road.
Going nowhere, no destination in mind.
I want it to be like this always.
If you felt it, I hope you wish for that too.
I feel better than okay with you.
I want to feel like that all the time.
And when I am with you,
I know the feeling will stay.
Because with you,
I am home.
do you ever wonder
about the difference between
looking at something
and the hallucination created
when looking past it?
if you look at your hand
it's all you can see
but if you look past your hand
there are now two of them
sometimes it's hard for me
to remember which is real
it gets me thinking
about how my father
used to wake me up
in the morning by rubbing
his stubble across my face
i spent my 11th birthday
under the assumption
that he might come back
if i drank his aftershave
like maybe if i could turn blue
if i could be his favorite color
on our bathroom floor
he would forget why he left
the paramedics were all sobing
as they pumped memories
out of my stomach
i coughed up the day the post-it note with your new address on it
burned a hole in our refrigerator
coughed up the day
the divorce papers came
and my mother
took a baseball bat to the mailbox
i've been choking on the splinters
for 17 years
it's been 17 years
since the last dinner plate
exploded on our dining room wall
17 years since my mother
started accidentally setting your place at the dinner table
17 years since italian night
at the restaurant on the corner
where the juke box
spat tired music
and like so many other things
it stopped working when you left
i guess it's no coincidence
since the juke box went quiet
that the cds in my car
only skip on "i miss you"
i've been hemorrhaging memories
for so long
and now that i'm looking back
i can no longer tell
the mirage from the truth
sometimes i swear
you showed up to my graduation
and last time
i was at your apartment
i can't remember
if the imprints of my hands
are in clay hanging on your wall
or if they were left in the mud
the day god had the audacity
to let it rain
or maybe it's like the time
i saw someone crying on a bridge
now that i think about it
i can't remember if it was me

— The End —