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I remember the day my love sailed out to sea,
but that was years ago; that was when he was with me.
It's never been the same again, nor will it ever be.

He told me that he'd be home before I knew,
I guess he underestimated how hard the wind blew,
Or how mighty the waves were, knocking off and drowning his crew.

And no matter what others say,
I know that there will be a day,
When you return for me and rest your head to lay.

So, I will wait until then,
Until you're home once again.
The way that it's always been…

▲▼▲▼▲

I still wait…
It's been 50 years now.
I will wait forever more.
I know you will come home.
I know I'm a bit bitter,
And I may be a tad sour,
But didn't you say those same things to me,
When we were together?

You make me want to laugh at your childish ways.
You make me angry and sad at the same time.
I'm a wave of emotion and I know I shouldn't care.
But I do.

You've shown how to identify boys versus men.
Boys will lie and say sweet nothings, only living for the moment.
Men will be thoughtful and think before they speak, planning on forever.

So, next time you want to be "there" for me,
Don't even try.
I don't converse with hypocrites,
Especially not boys who have broke my heart.
She wasn't a religious girl
Lost faith a long time ago
She had been disappointed one too many times to believe
Told herself she'd never go back

And then she met a boy
Who shared her lack of belief
Every time she saw him it felt like heaven
But she reminded herself he'd eventually leave

This boy was more of a saint really
He was too good to be true
She waited for the inevitable heartbreak
Which was far overdue

He stayed by her side though
And she began to think about how
He was there when God never showed and
If it was possible to be an atheist who believed in angels
His hands
burn away at my momentary doubt

my skin becomes softer beneath his lips.

his lips taste like a postage stamp for an unwritten letter

with slowly drifting fingers, he writes to me:
he asks about my day with his palm on my rib cage and his sighs in my ear.
he kisses the center of my chest, and tells me a story about friends I've never met
he suckles my ****** when he talks about his alcoholic father.

and he writes goodbye with his hips between my thighs.

he provides no return address.
he simply signs his name.
Let go of this hold you have on me,
Let me be the person I've always wanted to be,
Let me finally breathe,
So that I can be free
 Jan 2014 nicholas the poet
bc
One
I hate myself.
Two
I'm scared to sleep at night because whenever I close my eyes it's as if the ruthless words of hatred and disgust that you throw at me relentlessly replay over and over in my head as if it was a broken record perched on the top of a dusty shelf that isn't within a reachable distance.
Three*
I don't know who I am anymore. I lost her somewhere within this sea of sadness I plunged myself into.
Four
Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless. Fat, Ugly, Worthless.* These are the words that taunt me everyday and latch onto me like a bloodthirsty leech that just found a new piece of flesh to feed off of.
Five
Whenever somebody tells me to be who I am and that they won't judge. I laugh. I laugh because being who I am is just a distant memory. I cant be who I am because I lost when I skipped my first meal. I lost who I was when I learned what it felt like to genuinely hate myself. I lost myself when I learned how to numb myself so that I feel nothing at all. Now here I am in present time, curled up in a ball of my own self pity, crying out all the feelings I wish I had.
Six
Somedays, I wish I could find the me that loves me, but I can't because the horrid words that you uttered to me stabbed her over and over again relentlessly and when you finally walked away, she stood there bleeding out all the love and trust she used to have.
Seven
I hate telling people how I really feel because they take it as a yearning for attention, not a cry for help. I hate telling people how I feel because they would treat me as if I was a problem and not a human.
Eight
I just wish that someone would paint on me as if I were a blank canvas and turn me into something magnificent because I am tired of continuously painting
myself in hopes that my tear-stained cheeks, lifeless eyes, and pain will turn me into the beautiful girl society expects me to be.
Nine
I just wish I was normal.

-b.c.
First poem I published on here, I hope you like it. -b.c.
When I was little, every Sunday I’d go to Church
I was a child drunk off of fairy tales and day dreams
And I loved the idea that we could go to heaven when we died
And the pastor looked me in the eyes and said
"God is with you."
And like any 5 year old would, I believed him

My family bowed our heads and prayed before every meal
But halfway through dinner they’d start yelling
And I remembered what the pastor told me
So I covered my ears and asked God to make it stop
But I felt all alone
And that’s why I’m an atheist

At school the kids would pick on me
I didn’t understand why they didn’t want me as a friend
And I prayed to God that they’d stop
But I also prayed for them too
Because I was a good Christian
And good Christians love their enemies
But nothing changed
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I remember the first time my mom hit me
One time during a fight
She told me I was stupid and worthless
And after a while I started believing what she said
I started to wonder
How could someone so hateful
Call them self a Christian?
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I prayed that God would make me beautiful
Because I wasn’t skinny
And I knew I wasn't good enough for that boy I liked
But every time I looked in the mirror, I felt the same
So I stopped kneeling in prayer
And started kneeling in front of the toilet
And that’s why I’m an atheist

I haven’t prayed in 5 years now
I have only one request of God if he exists
That he end the pain right now
But nothing happens
So once again, I will have to do things on my own
And standing so close to the edge
I think about how I used to love the idea of life after death
But now I’m obsessed with the thought that when I do
They’ll be nothing coming after
And I can have eternal sleep
And that’s why I’m an atheist
Through my own deadly self-consumed bitterness,

I catch sight of you…

Drifting by your lonesome…

No, drowning…

In an ocean of denial,

Your ocean.

Able to reach depths,

that no one can find.

Something,

Out of something like pity,

I guess I'm kind of indenial too.

Waiting for you to realize that you need me.

I'm hopeless without you.

You're disfunctional without me.

I need you.

You need me.

So come to me, when the sea is in chaos,

It will hardly notice your absence, unlike how I do.

Come to me, so that we may float in Our Own Ocean of Denial.

We'll never drift apart, for when we're together…we are one.

Come home.
I don't know, just rambling I guess.
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