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I was never his queen.
I was a beggar for love,
for respect,
for a partner.
I was never rich in love
Go to where
poetry is aroused
that's where misery
drinks with company
and over-thinking
smokes with assumptions

That's where the heart
over-fills drinks
to the brim
with
"is this right?"

and wets papers
with poetry
that questions
its creator
If I move my feet just right
You'll think I know how to dance
Hit the right note, at the right time
And you'll claim I can sing
And on occasion I'll be so sincere
That you'll think I know how to love
When it's all just a desperate attempt
To hide my ineptitude
A short and light poem
 Jan 22 badwords
Emma
he loves me only as a sister—
frail petals fall, their whispers
fractured, bending beneath
the weight of a maybe, a
no.

he loves me (only as a friend)
the echo shifts, a restless
shadow, lingering in the hollow
of what could never bloom.

he loves me (but)—
attraction's embers fade,
a pale ghost of something
once alive, now gray; he
loves (me) not enough
to stay.

he loves me (yet cannot
see) beneath the mirror's skin,
the ugliness I carry,
the cracks I cradle within.

he loves me (only a memory),
childhood’s games replay
in sepia tones,
their laughter a distant
ache in the marrow of my bones.

he loves me (how I bow
to his words)—sharp shards
of blame and fire, I
surrender, a captive
to his bruising choir.

he loves me (he loves me not)
the daisy wilts in silent
confession,
a question unraveling
into dust.
 Jan 20 badwords
Syafie R
You call me your dog,
your *****, your fool,
hurling words like stones
to shatter my heart.

I wag my tail anyway,
smiling through trembling lips,
fetching scraps of kindness
from the shadow of your hands.

You call me useless,
a beast beyond learning,
but I only want to please you—
to sit, to stay, to love.

Even as you turn away,
your voice cracking the whip,
I crawl through every wound,
bearing the weight of your name
like a leash around my soul.

For to be your dog
is still to be near you,
and I, the fool,
would bleed to feel you call me mine.
I cried so hard writing this poem. I'm deeply sorry for anyone who has ever felt the need to go to such painful lengths when loving someone. This is for you.
Just like Orpheus,
I descended.
Though,
my digression was
for different
reasons.
Yeah, I tried to
rescue you from
your hell.
Bring you out of
the degradation,
the debauchery.

It smelled like
***** and ****.
The swine squealed.
The harpies shrieked.
And,
I looked
too long.
I became you.

Thank God I escaped.
Fate dragged me
out by the scruff
of my neck.
You've made it
your home,
but, I will never
visit your underworld
again.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psGsLxRoaII

This poem is a repost.
 Jan 20 badwords
BipolarBear
First comes flame; your beating heart sets alight.
Then comes rain; relieving the raging pain.
But now barely breathing, you feel nothing.
Your blackened heart pauses, before collapsing.
Poem inspired by the life cycle of a star and the stages of depression without the right intervention. The debilitating pain, and the coping mechanisms.
 Jan 20 badwords
BipolarBear
First the radicle must break through the shell.
Then feel the weight of the soil where she fell.
She must reach out, search the darkness for light.
In order to grow - bud, blossom and thrive.
Phases of recovery:
1. Recognize your trial, look to get through it
2. Experience the negative emotions
3. Look for meaning behind the experience
4. Grow from the pain
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