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  Mar 2019 Xyns
Jude Quinn
I'm tired of love poems,
they stay behind
like stains of blood
after a ******.

It's all so strange to read them
after their inspiration is gone.
What are you supposed to do with them?
There's no place they belong to
after their inspiration is gone.
How are you supposed to move on from them?
Everything you write is about the time
after their inspiration is gone.

Are those tears in my pillow really mine?
or are they something I wrote before?
Can I say I'm truly in love?
or am I trying to burn my old love poems away?

The poems sit in a corner of my room
and my girlfriend can see them when we make love.
Is she thinking the same as I do?
I'm so afraid she does,
I'm so afraid she might go away
and leave me behind with nothing
but stains of love poems
on the floor.
  Mar 2019 Xyns
mikayla swiecichowski
maybe im the puzzle
but youre still the pieces
Xyns Mar 2019
I get so deep in this pit
I wanna stay here and sit
Wallow in self pity
Finally give up and just quit

Disappear for a bit

I have so much to say
But I’ll just bite my lip
Xyns Mar 2019
When the nights wind down
I wanna **** myself

I hate it
Because the harder I try
I can’t feel myself

Sittin and sippin
Steadily losing his interest

And I wanna die
But that’s none of his business

You can’t tell them you’re falling
Just to hear your name
In their whispers

Suffer in silence
Just like I do, myself

Self-inflict
Heavy violence
Just like I do, myself
Xyns Feb 2019
Sing to me
I wanna know

Will you warm me when I’m cold?

Sing to me
Your soul is old
Your heart is gold

Sing to me
I gotta know

Will you love me when I’m old?
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