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Nessa dieR Jul 20
After painful years, the images in my head
finally start to show color
From an abysmal black
To the blinding white of your devious smile

They're tainted now in a hue of brown
to deep red
and finally, the sunshine orange you wanted to see.
Nessa dieR Apr 2019
I would run to your arms
Like no one ever will.
Now all that's left is my tiptoes
as to not wake up the only dream that still remains.
My heartbeat is finally louder  
than my own voice
  Feb 2019 Nessa dieR
Joliver
If there was one word
One word, isolated by itself
That I cannot stand above all others
It would have to be "Okay"
I despise "Okay"
"Okay"
Is how your millionth day at work went
"Okay"
Is off-brand raisin bran
"Okay"
Is how you say life is going
When you don't want to admit you spend
Every second of it
Wanting to die

"Okay"
Is packed to the brim with
Hidden implications
Like a treasure chest
Filled with bottles
With little subliminal hatreds
Written on tiny slips of paper
Passively aggressively pushed inside
To discover later
As I pull out a treasure map
And try to decipher
Where I went wrong

"Okay"
Is a one word dismissal
That feels like an essay a thousand pages long
"Okay"
Is a poison dripping with disinterest
When I dared to share with you
Something I thought might make you smile
"Okay"
Is like trying to talk to a wall
While watching the paint on it dry
"Okay"
Takes two seconds to write
Yet I waited days
For that dreaded word
To grace my notifications
"Okay"
Should be used sparingly
As if each time you send it
You **** the receiver just a little bit
"Okay"
Should not be said so often that
I know what you're about to say
Like I saw it in a crystal ball
"Okay"
Is not looking up from your phone
When I tell you about my day
"Okay"
Is not the proper response
To "I love you"

They say that the opposite of love isn't hatred
It's indifference
And I can't think of a response
More indifferent to pouring out
My heart into your hands
Than "Okay"
At least the last thing you said to me
Before we parted ways
Showed that you cared
At least a little bit
"I hate you"
Stung less
Than the thousands of times
Over our countless conversations
You responded
"Okay"
Okay?
Nessa dieR Apr 2018
We.
You are not                                                              ­                          him,
And I'm not                                                              ­                          her,

                               ­                                                                 ­            those,

the ones that we were before being                                                   us.
You were like that but now                                                                  ­             
You sound a little of                                                               ­            me.
    I was like that but now                                                                  ­        

I come a little from                                                             ­               you.
Nessa dieR Mar 2018
in just one instant everyone separates
                    from the images we loved the most,
and dear friend
you will lay
               fragile and
                in pain beside the frames.

I left you thinking about many things
and hopefully you will think a bit of me along the way.

You know,
dear friend,
in this path towards death
              called life,
I feel well accompanied
I feel almost satisfied
when I picture that far away,
                                              wherever you are,
maybe you believe my words before going to bed
or come across me in the streets of your dreams.
  Feb 2018 Nessa dieR
Nigel Finn
People like you and me have grown used to dancing along,
To the raggedy tune of someone else's song.
We are able to dance, and smile, and duck, and roll, and weave,
While still clinging tightly to the things that we believe.
Sometimes we are led to believe we will lose it all; our heart, our soul, our very name,
Afraid they'll take away the us-ness of us; but still we play their game.

I wonder how many others know how to fake their hand?
Who keep the love caged up inside, to appear "normal" and bland?
Perhaps it is just us, perhaps just you, or, again, perhaps just me,
Or perhaps each individual just sees what they want to see.

Perhaps.

Perhaps...

Or perhaps, but...

I had a vision once; all the bad thoughts in the world were mine;
I ****** them in from everyone else, so that all the world felt fine,
And while all other folk were safe at rest, I cried and cried and cried,
And toddled down some empty street, slumped down a wall, and died,
Taking with me all the evil thoughts- the hate, the pain, the strife;
I believe it was the happiest I'd felt in all my life.

I tell you that to tell you this; all people's pain is pain to me,
And I would gladly give you happiness, in exchange for misery.
Don't keep those thoughts locked up inside, and hoard them for your own,
Or both you and I will surely die depressed- afraid- alone.
If, for some unknown reason, you'd like to hear me read this poem, go here;

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10212877965556802&id=1019577632&_rdr
  Feb 2018 Nessa dieR
Lord Byron
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sank chill on my brow—
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o’er me—
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:—
Long, long shall I rue thee
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met—
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?—
With silence and tears.
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