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Rosie Mg Aug 7
There are days where the world makes me draw a blank, where nothing fits and all I do is think all ropes struck split-ended and torn no paths cross no links and certainly no endings. A trail begins and the hill drops down steeply low below my groans and moans of pain and distraught - I'm forced to appeal, to let them go. Jump! Jump! And I draw a blank.

Sometimes nothingness stares back at me; looming over me and my thoughts - overbearingly present consuming my mind until there's nothing left but this stark stinging sound scratching in my ear
I’m forced to itch an itch I can’t reach; unfulfilled and tense I’m annoyed and aggravated, in agony and anguish.

These days, which seem to last weeks, cut deep into the abyss of my memories;

who I was supposed to be. A dull glow of an image I traced in my mind steadily peering over my hollow body haunting all the squeaks and creaks of my joints.

I'm spooked by my naked brain bubbling pointless noise.

I lay lazily through my creepy trance as vines that held me tight debunk from my nerves. Painfully they un-tie my paralysis and I let my lungs pound the roof of my mouth with ghastly chokes of cursed air. Hours of mindless screeching.

I'm free!

My breath eases up
and my soul finally gets to explore
the deep universe I see
when closing my eyes.
Written in 2025.
Possibly a work in progress.
Rosie Mg Jul 24
A new room,
cold, empty space.
First glance,
uninviting.
I stood rooted.
For a while,
but without thought,
I stepped.

A bright glow through my eyelid
stunned me at the gate,
of my new beginning.
Struck by someone.
She, who never saw me,
who flattered me with her tone.
A woman with the prettiest auburn hair.
Her eyes, a rainforest,
one brown, another a startling green.

I would give her everything.
Happiness, a better life,
a perfect life,
but its beyond my reach to gift.

Her;

a poem, awestruck,
an abstract painting, worth the stars,
a love story, rose and bold.

She;

a flower, blessed with immortality.

She'd be my reason for life.
She's a spell everyone wants,
a warm feeling everyone needs.

All I want is her,
she's too distant to attain.

All I need now
is a world to grow
around my heart
until I grasp my freedom,
like fresh air
on a walk.
Written in 2022.
Rosie Mg Jul 19
Threads mold my throat.
Crumpled paper lay within wrinkles
of time,
mountains of ideas strike the clock

I've run out of lines,
and gasp without air
a faint squeal
as my head bobbles off.

                   S
                                  P
                           ­                     L
                                          ­                 A
                                                               ­         T.
Written in 2022.
Rosie Mg Jul 19
"Unloved"

a flickering red light
at night
shaking hands with insomnia


"They don't care"


haunting my mind.


My lungs wrapped with their agreement,
a trapping embrace - cold and fragmented.


I felt like myself again,
but my box,
didn't come with more pieces.


To replace the ones I lost.


My heart
beats sideways; wrongly,
through my ribcage.
Tearing it, and my body apart.
As easily as paper.


Life's a dead end.
I know I'll lose all parts of me.
One by one; forgotten.


Like ashes in the wind.
Written in 2023.
Rosie Mg Jul 19
Distraction corrupts you.
As you lack interest.
I am just, noise.
Your ears are cushioned; absorbing a buzz.

Just listen to me, respect me.
Mocking me as I try to be civil.
You belittle me.
And the buzzing stops.

Your head finally turns.
You slapped the fly,
and its juices neatly seat the bench,
and you stare, and you don't care.

I slump, melting.
Clenching my jaw.
You pluck my wings,
and I let you.

My dignity stripped.
Your ego; unrestrained, unrestricted.
I just watch,
as my eyes blurt a river.
Written in 2022.
Rosie Mg Jul 19
Love does not stare at me
love that fills the lungs and steals the breath
of those who find their perfect match
and share a bond that never ends.

A magnificent surge of energy
that lasts for days and months and years
a source of joy and happiness
until it ruptures,
thrown onto the ***** pile.

They fall for lust instead of love
they don't discern its subtle tricks
their hearts beat out of sync and slow
they feel a pang, they think it's love.

It starts out fine, but soon they see
the truth behind the false pretense
no Lilies, no Valentine - just desire, a ****** one.
They build a physical bond; un-washable glue.

They crave their touch, they need their kiss
they look for someone else to fill
the void inside their lonely hearts
but never feel the lust they miss
Written in 2023.
Rosie Mg Jul 19
Believe it or not -

I gather you do.

I’m fueling, a growing fire

which burns bright
and gold.

Since my shy heart,

loves beauty

for it, is all of you.

A glowing sun,

playful and greedy,

as I.
P. Written in 2025.
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