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A Oct 7
I've written a hundred books in my mind,
longed thousands of nights,
dreamt a million days away
and yet, you are not here
anna Sep 30
i came with a warning tag
and there i lay remain
where a heart burns like drooping wax
and all those memories became a stain.
tenderness, i feel none
and tuesday came and went
the winter of the passing autumn
left but blue weptβ€”β€”β€”i strangle myself on lies
that my own tulips has spluttered
where all i am is dust
from a star that wanted nothing.
withered, and truly died
where death is enriched with scars
for like spring and her sweetness,
i wait until i die.
chang cosido Sep 27
πšπš˜πš—πš 𝚒𝚘𝚞 πš”πš—πš˜πš ?
πš’πšŸπšŽ πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽπš πš–πšŠπš™πšœ
πš˜πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšœπš”πš’πš—
𝚜𝚘 πš–πš’ πšπš’πš—πšπšŽπš›πšπš’πš™πšœ πš”πš—πš˜πš 
πš πš‘ich πš™πšŠπš›πšπšœ 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚘𝚞 πš‘πšžπš›πš
πšŠπš—πš πš πš‘ich πš™πšŠπš›πšπšœ πšπš˜πš—'𝚝.
πš’πšŸπšŽ πš–πšŽπš–πš˜πš›πš’πš£πšŽπš
πšŠπš•πš• πšπš‘πšŽ πš›πš’πšŸπšŽπš›πšœ
πš’πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšŸπšŽπš’πš—πšœ
πšŠπš—πš πš’ πš”πš—πš˜πš 
πš πš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ πš’πš πšŠπš•πš• πšŽπš—πšπšœ.
πš’πšŸπšŽ πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽπš πš–πšŠπš™πšœ
πš˜πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšœπš”πš’πš—
𝚜𝚘 πš πš‘πšŽπš— πš–πš’ πšπš’πš—πšπšŽπš›πšœ
πšŠπš›πšŽ πš—πš˜ πš•πš˜πš—πšπšŽπš› πšπš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ
𝚝𝚘 πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽ πš’πš,
πš’πš πš πš’πš•πš• πš”πš—πš˜πš  πš‘πš˜πš 
𝚝𝚘 πšŠπšŒπš‘πšŽ πšπš˜πš› πš–πšŽ.
Ana Ehlana Sep 26
they say i have nothing to be sad for
but they don’t know everything
zero knowledge about my grief or,
the fact that my heart’s always breaking

they don’t see all the things i missed out on
the way i yearn for my father to have been alive
throughout every single moment that haunts,
every birthday after ten that i’ve had to survive

they don’t see the glistening in my eyes
when it says β€œDad” on the phone call
and i watch from the sidelines
wondering what it feels like as my heart falls

& i don’t think i will ever heal
from that kind of aching
i will forever have to deal
with the way it will always be hurting.
TG Sep 17
What do we do,
when we no longer have control,
no longer can say,
or change a thing
about a situation.
We just have to accept it,
as painful as it is.
We need to learn to live with it...
You're stuck in a situation you can't get out of. It hurts so much but theres nothing you can do about it, it's over. You want an explanation so badly, why did it go like this. You gave everything, your heart, body & soul but it's gone. This person/situation is no longer a part of your life. He/she doesn''t want you to be a part of their story anymore. All we can do is, take the pain & accept it. You cannot change someone's perception or feelings. It's over for them, so it is for you aswell. The best thing you can do is move on and live your life again. Even if it's unfair, even if you're sad. You won't be able to change another persons mind but you can change yours. Slowly by time you will feel happy again, you''ll find happiness in the things you can control. Please stay happy everyone even if it's hard sometimes!
wizmorrison Sep 14
I decorated a drawing in my room,
Her cheeks are white,
Her eyes are dark brown,
Her lips are in the color of ruby.

Her gaze is really something,
Her nose is like bleeding,
Her dress are worn out,
I sometimes look and doubt.

I dream last night,
She screams so loud,
She cries for help,
No one was there.

No hands lift her up,
She's in so much pain,
She begged once again,
Every ear are now deaf.

I woke up wondering,
I looked closely to her,
She seems okay,
Who knows what's lying there?

The next morning,
I don't know where my drawing is,
Not a single trace of her,
Was I lost her?
Hello, I'm back! I think I forgot about my account here so I decided to check it out and yeah, I'm like a sleeping ugly poetess and now, I'm back on sharing you my fave thing to do, WRITING POETRY!
m Sep 14
i think that most of motherhood is the aching for that feeling;
the feeling of putting every single thing you are too small to fear
into a being that is nearly too small to love;
everything that is terrifying, everything that is menacing,
brought to light, literal light,
in your actual arms.

i am young and fertile and stupid I know.
but there's an ache, a breaking
inside of me, that is terrified
repulsed and jealous, at the thought of gaining
the inexplicable peace of the splitting of my soul
into myself and hope.
my heart is breaking all the time I need to stop drinking
fray narte Sep 13
It's hard to feel alive when things
are constantly dying inside you.

Some nights, I comb through all my well-kept chaos
as if a secret lover visiting a grave.
These nights, I forget to breathe.

I am sick of asking the cobwebs
how the smallest gap in my ribs
can make room for this much pain.
It has grown into a woodland β€”
and I, the lost, the helpless prey;
the odd girl out.

Look for my bones among wild lilacs,
covered in forest soil, darling,
and you'll know that some deaths you don't mourn
and some deaths you can't.

Some nights,
I comb through all this well-kept chaos
in search for a sign of life,
but my flesh has been a map
of cigarette burns
and vague memories of dying;
strangers have been sick of laying kisses
on things that taste like
they've been bleeding β€”
on things that taste like death.
Maybe one day, I, too, will be sick enough
to stop prodding wounds open
to leave poems in the doorstep
of the things
rotting inside me.

Then again, some sorrows
you don't turn into poetry.
Some sorrows you just feel.

Some nights, I comb through
all this well-kept chaos.
Other nights, I bury it
beneath my floorboard,
hoping that there will be no haunting β€”
no pounding;
just peace.

But then, some chaos you learn to live with;
some, you don't survive.

Some deaths you can't mourn.

Some deaths you just die.
bloodKl0tz Sep 2
Instead of the joy of coming into a port and stepping onto land, land
That is familiar and loving
In love
With having my feet home again
The earth below rejoicing
After so many months at sea

I am instead adrift.  There is unbroken horizon
Spread out vast all around me
My eyes ache in my head from only seeing the sun, only seeing
The flat blue waves

I am so ANGRY that I am unloved I am so ADRIFT without my home port
I call out and the wind pretends to be an answer
All I want is to be longed for
For someone to pace
For someone to watch the sea

Instead, two separate lives, one at sea, one at home.
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