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W Winchester Apr 2015
Not he/she/they but "the borderline"
The borderline imagines this elaborate fantasy to be necessary
the borderline turns to clinginess
the borderline may exhibit narcissistic symptoms
the borderline the borderline the borderline

the borderline-
a chalk marking on the sidewalk

the borderline-
trees separating territories

the borderline-
a sign stating do not cross

not me
I am human

but since I'm a 'borderline'
you wouldn't know that

would you?
I'm a trainwreck
samantha page  Sep 2016
clingy
samantha page Sep 2016
they say I'm clingy. tell me something I don't already know.
maybe it's because of all the times I've missed out
because I wasn't there at the right moment.
or maybe because if I'm not around them,
I have nowhere to be.
and I hate that.
people are constantly with their friends, yet
they are never called clingy because they're friends
so then how can I achieve this friend status?
it's said that when you're around people a lot,
they're more likely to unconsciously like you.
but where's the line between that and clinginess?
tell me that. it's something I don't know.
Emily Hammer Nov 2013
He fell in love with the way she slightly parted her lips when she was almost asleep
But not quite
He fell in love with the way she wore large glasses for fun
And how she would bite her pinkie to hold in a laugh
The laugh in which he loved
He loved that she had three freckles in a triangle below her left eye
And the way she tilted her head when she was thinking about very important things
He fell in love with her eyes and the way they longed for him
He loved being wanted
He fell in love with the pitter-patter of her feet on their bedroom floor
Because that meant she was thinking too much and he could hold her
And make her fell okay for just a night
He loved being wanted

He loved her for everything she was and everything she was not

He was falling out of love with the drool on her pillow
He thought it was silly she wore large glasses for no reason
And how she always had bite marks on her pinkies
He began to find her laugh very loud  too loud and always ringing in his ears
He was falling out of love with the three freckles beneath her left eye
Or was it her right eye?
And he defiantly did not love the way her head was cocked when trying to decide between one ply or two
Or the way she always was looking at him
He hated her clinginess
He fell out of love with the noise she made at night
He never woke up anymore
He hated her desperation

He did not love the little things about her anymore and he was not in love
*-(e.h)
E l l e  Nov 2017
Kinda like Acne
E l l e Nov 2017
You're kind of like acne.

The first time I thought you, I was happy
I thought this was the first sign of growing up

You were a big milestone, you know.

After about a year I'd had enough of you
with your clinginess and infectious presence

I knew you had to leave.

My heart wanted you gone
and my body seemed to love you

I just wanted out, but I didn't know how.

Then came the extreme measures
I even had to see an expert

I'm sorry it came to this.

Now you're gone but I still see reminents
of what you did to me

I cover you up everyday.

But then I realize everyone knows what it's like
Everyone knows it's not a big deal

To have a little acne every once in a while.
Daniel Samuelson Sep 2014
An ever-growing list of things that I can't fix
a set of scribbles on a blank lined page
a lifetime of regretful (in)decisions
a stack of unstamped postcards that I swear I meant to send
my clinginess, my neediness
a drawer full of unused paper clips
two eyes that work too well to see what lies beneath the skin
a mouth that I may never learn to tame
two ears that someday soon will cease to hear
a cluttered, clumsy, cumbersome soul
two hands with scars and calloused fingertips
a mind that only ever thinks of you
two legs that don't know where the hell to go
and
a heart that's only satisfied when beating next to yours...

And this is all I have to give to you.
Hi, HP! It's been too long.
I've been spending a lot of time in nature for my ecopsychology class, and thought I'd be more inspired to write poetry this semester. But, life gets in the way. Penned this in a few minutes of downtime during a class. Enjoy!
When we find ourselves
bewitched
by the once-again
betwixt a barest bare
season (of not-there)
and the rock-hard
reason (for there-is), let’s

Place the lemon-sour wedge,
where it can be tasted
with expectantly peppered
peeks and the snowy soft pines
for a gifted we we’ve been
too white-elephant
wary to unwrap.

There’s a transplant
future. We pretended
it (to-be
forever sutured to our bristly back-
then), and it meets the it
it was beneath a scrub-brush
Christmas tree we’ve stowed

Carelessly in the cramped space
where our sameness
lets crawl the other. Tinseled,
pre-assembled, past-
their-prime-time specialty
brands of static
clinginess have diminished,

But not-enough,
as the persistence of any-man
attraction shows,
would if it could bring
Whitman’s samplers
of sentimentality
to cuddly bear on a leftover

Choice (What’s-next,
warmed over and over). We
will stick to it,
fuzzy ornaments
on the crackly loud, paper-
thin present. We didn’t give
up but we did give away

Boxed-up angels
in exchange for one red-ribbon
day, its frilly bow tying us
so tightly to
the pressed-down rule
of our highest of highly
evolved thumbs.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.
Slipping between
Boredom and obsession
Love and clinginess
But I have a confession--
Without you I'm bored
Right out of my mind
You are my muse
And that's hard to find
Yes, I adore you
Always wanting to hang out
Just to be in your presence
That's what I'm all about
Don't be afraid
For I'm sure you have seen
This, I confess
Is what I'm slipping between
Not who you (might) think this is about.
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
The pools of eyes; like tears of a sea,
the virtue of dreams. Morals in the
pursuit of laurels.

Even with the strength of Hercules,
still weakened as only being human; in part.
In solitude of dark thought—a deathless
night, looms like a menace of juvenile desire.
Lust and confusion, a drudgery of chasing eyes.
Such a defiance of love: Clinginess of flesh wanting
flesh—vexations of our once selves.

We've all been young.

Nurture maturity, to teach those behind early,
for their grapes to be full in seasonal vines.

Teach 'em as due course,
as 'verly so, you've once been taught.
As a given,
an open hand of the gift of handing
down wisdom.
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2019
and how does one,
become an orc...
from being labelled
          a troll,
when...
   not buying
          a **** of
butter, a pint of milk,
a dozen's shack
of carrots,
   a dozen of eggs...
and three irish ciders
in a supermarket?
oh... right...
****'s sake!
  wake up!
   own a pet tarantula
you *******
*****!
   cats are so
autistic,
and 20th century!
and women friendly!
blaaaaaaaah!
and then...
"funny"...
    suddenly died;
me?
  oh i was waiting
for that to happen,
hence my clinginess
attitude...
i kept telling them:
i'm about to revise
the blank page
   i'm about to revise
the blank page
   i'm about to revise
the blank page...
    they listen?
  nope...
     orc bypassed
the troll,
bypassing the goblin...
and...
      oh ****,
no hey, but hey presto!
              i'm not even trying...
i hate trying...
   trying is...
trying...
          when it arrives
from an authenticity
of, competent
reactionary...
something, or other...
   yeah...
  i'm really gagging
for the marching orders...
a dog barking in
the night tells me:
crock-****...
              why would
i decide to understand
dog barking...
as, being...
   more informative
to... whatever spew
is about to arrive from
the attention seeking
******?
  the dog is barking again...
i'll put my faith
in that...
  i've lost any ability
to trust my fellow man...
sorry...
   no...
no: is the new now...
        can't do it...
let's revise...
  keep up with the graffiti...
there are...
internet trolls...
which are...
the extended...
    interaction with
internet goblins...
me? oh... sure sure,
internet identity politics...
moi?
       internet orc...
what's that?
   dunno...
  a casual variant of
the sort of societal
formality,
without any uninhibited
   & depersonalized
internet interaction
to mimic societal
                        standards?

i made a spelling mistake!
****! i know i 'ave!

obviously the meme:
internet orc would
prevail over the already
exhausted
   cultural spew /
                 slur...
  designating a troll...

     an internet orc...
is a new breed...
                       die edelbarbar...
far from superior...
i just, "forgot"
to leave any comments.
xmxrgxncy Jun 2016
Contract;

In order for this business relationship to be beneficial to both parties, here is what to expect, and what I'll expect in return.

I expect you to give me attention, especially when I plead that I don't need it. I expect sweet messages sent at random that don't hold any relevancy to what we're experiencing. I expect truth, loyalty, and respect. I expect your time.

In return, you can expect being loved until you wish you had never met me in the first place, being attentively looked after but not to the point of clinginess. You'll be privy to poems, songs, and ideas penned about you frequently, and you'll never be alone. Your heart will be mine to guard and to keep not as my own but as ours. And know this; I will never leave.

Terms for this agreement are thus; time will be made for the other party. I will not have to experience a breakup over the phone because you won't make time to see me after six months of what I thought was love. We won't have to make excuses about how we're still hanging in there; if things don't work, they don't work.

And finally, we must agree to be mutually exclusive.

Under these conditions- which are for the most part immobile but are open to suggestion- and these conditions only will this business agreement be not only agreed upon but maintained. Any breach of this contract will result in...well.

Term to end: hopefully, never.

Just sign the dotted line, here.

____________X
This is what I want in a relationship. I just want to be loved the way I want to love another person. I'm so sentimental, I do better when I have someone to dote on and someone to give me attention in return. I don't really expect much, though. No one in my generation knows how to have an actual relationship that relies on being in contact with their significant other. But that's what I want. That being said, I guess I've resigned myself to not expecting full recompense from my future significant other in return, because I know that that's just not how society today works, it's not their fault. But I can hope.

— The End —