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Throughout my life, I have been taught and told about the pain behind the loss and the heartbreak
But never about the pain of wanting to love someone who has been perfectly crafted for you and feeling as if you're unable to feed them the required love they deserve due to the emotional paralysis you are now inflicted with from your inner brokenness and from the world draining and milking whatever feeling or emotion you once had as your heart has now been melted to stone
And that is when you finally come to a realization that you are now left with absolutely nothing due to the oblivion of what it is to love or be loved and if whether or not you are enough.
Unpolished Ink Mar 2020
Listen to the silence

As the world holds its breath

And waits in hiding

Grass grows in the streets

Parking lots entwine with ivy

Around the rusty carts

And the spaces in-between

Yellow boxes faded by sun through empty windows

No breeze stirs the pavement cracks

Due for mending long ago

Thin cats lick their dusty paws

Stretching out on the hot trunks of cars

Sleeping peacefully

Until the bold rats come out to  play in the moonlight

Skipping down the hoardings

Unafraid

And what of the thousands

Their pale and haunted eyes

Looking from behind every curtain

Radios tuned

Listening

As the world holds its breath

And waits for life to begin again
Brian Yule Mar 2020
Quilting words to pad
This unfathomable ache
Wrap me up hollow
Kyle Duran Feb 2020
The rain dances across
the windows

Hair in face,
unknowing what will
happen

As you look out,
the window
fogs up

Hold your breath

I remember where
you sat

When I awoke
I was walking in a field
holding only a piece of
paper

On it, it said,
“Will you miss me?”

7-21-19
The aftermath of a horrible road trip with people I didn't know.
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Helicopter water ballet
And Charlie's on the grid

Front and centering feng shui
Choreographed in the fields
Where ****** sticks to kids

War is the fashion
That never wears out

Smell its smoke
Sickly sweet and orange
In the early decay of morning
Inspired by the poem "Theatre" by fellow Hello Poetry writer Syed Younas
I’m in hell of a mess
with nicotine wracking at my chest.

But…

I like to think the aftermath doesn’t exist
at night when I’m smoking a cigarette.
When I’m as high as the clouds,
I never want to come down.

Because no one knows what it’s like
to be in need of something else.
To finally have power, even between your teeth.
Inhaling in toxins just to breathe.
izzy Dec 2019
What's left after suicide?
Physically, just a boring stain
And ugly mark, the only thing left
To remind us of the pain
The blue stain on the kitchen table
The brown splatter on the wall
The missing rail
On the stairs from the fall
The hole in the roof
Where the fan used to be
It ripped out the ceiling
Guess those forty anorexic kilos where too much
The made up bed that hasn't been slept on for months
The soulless body in the hospital bed
With a plaque that read
John Doe found by the river
A few miles from the bridge
Had a pulse in his wrist
Some big red cuts too
He wasn't dead but he might as well have been
He stopped being alive when she left him for heroine
So he walked to the bridge they used to run over when they were kids
He looked into the muddy water
And wished he'd given her one last kiss
He thinks he could have saved her
It's too late now anyway
He climbs onto the railing
And pictures flying away
A hundred miles away
On a dust filled mattress
Sits a young girl pretty enough to be an actress
Her hair is greasy and mattered
Her skin is pale and dry
She takes a deep breath and puts down the needle
She picks up her phone to call her guy
She doesn't know she's too late
The last priceless seconds have passed
He's falling through the air, he's going pretty fast
It's too late
It's over
The story just ended
He didn't pick up the phone
So she picked up the needle.
You would understand, Lu
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