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I S A A C Mar 2022
they are polluted by my delusion
they were born to ruin
my tears are acidic and my burden is heavy
my fears are basic and I feel incomplete already
it's a lot to wrap my head around, especially when my feet are not on the ground
I'd rather ride the clouds or catch a wave
who determined that life had to be so grey, day in and day out
paychecks in and I already spent it, this hole I cannot get out
my teardrops are acid and my god I cannot hold them in any longer
my emotions are stronger the longer they harbor.
Crimsyy Oct 2016
This is a poem for me, to me.

You have a horrible singing voice
but God knows,
singing while you wash away
dishes somehow makes
cleaning your heart
less cumbersome.

I've been worried about you;
you seem to be craving
a psychopathic thrill,
the kind where you feel
everything but remorse;
what a change of course,
you didn't let the monsters change you,
did you?

Intensity sprawls over
your dainty skin,
either full equilibrium
or capsizing until you sink,
either confessing to possessing
a soul gone obsidian
or your confessions completely shrink.

Girls like you
are the reason why you don't see
many small kids out late at night;
you're either fully pacific
or completely acidic,
either lulling stability and resolution
or chaos enveloped by your convulsions.

You're a ******* storm...
Now make sure the world knows.
Dana Kathleen Dec 2014
It’s been 203 days
since I’ve had Dr. Pepper
with your lemon in it.

The first weeks
I had to hesitate at sit-downs.
Now I’ve upgraded to the
permanent taste of Cherry Pepsi
with a slice of independence.

I hope you still ask for
a water with a lime
instead of lemon.

And I hope when
they still bring you
lemon water you feel
my absence, and it
stays with you
when you leave our booth                                          
because I know you still sit there                  
pretending I never did.                                                   

Without a place
for your lemon slice,
you have to grit and bear.      
How does it feel.

I hope that acidic taste
stains your mouth
and reminds you of me.
Redshift Oct 2014
is that
heartburn in my chest
or is the battery acid seeping from my over-charged heart creeping back up
fighting to get out
expel itself from this sinking ship.

you don't ruin everything.
everything ruins someone
and everyone ruins something.
the circle of life
rides its line
cutting into the track fate laid across my wrists.

you can't recharge dying batteries. leave them alone too long and they leak a hazardous acid
touch it, and it'll eat away at your fingers

just try and take it out of me.
i dare you.
try to make me better.
it'll eat away at you too,
just like it eats me.
Daniel Mashburn Sep 2014
I swore not to leave you
But now I don't know you
What changed you so drastically?

Was it lies by your bedside?
A glimpse of the inside
A shadow remains of once was

Torn from my own mind
Lived in my own life
Succumbing to faith I don't have

Was it all in the season?
Did it have any reason?
Would you swear on your life for me now?

A fire extinguished
You've become so distinguished
But who can you say you are when?

A life held at arm's length
A soul on it's short leash
Go on and cut it all free

No one will miss it
This day, go and kiss it
Maybe you'll bring back a smile

A walk on the lone mile
Your heart isn't on trial
Only the brains you once had

War of this same kind
Found in your own mind
Casting a bright light it's own

All fresh red roses
Alone at the window
Will wilt if you don't keep care

It's not so bad outside
But who know's what is inside?
A darkness that hides our true self

What's beneath our faces
A soul... ever tasteless
What's going on inside your head?

This rain never ending
This world ever sinning
One day I'll burn it all down

Your lack of real thinking
Your brain's always shrinking
Your own box is all you'll ever have

This life that's misleading
The trek that we're treading
Where will it all end and how?

This line begs a question
What's our destination?
Were we there before we ever left?
This is also from high school. I dug this up from an old conversation with someone on Facebook.

— The End —