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I'm angry with you
I am sure you don't care
If these words were spoken I'd be wasting my air
My feelings not even an afterthought in your brain
You are too selfish to consider my pain
der kuss Feb 2021
midnight diamonds, winds in the south, sun traveled southbound,
    you see, you lingered in some subtle guises when you’re mine, yet you’re gone.

   the stars stud my heavens, hot and flickering, the wind embraces me - these spark some painful thoughts i never told anybody. these remind me that somewhere out there i too reappear in your mind for a while, and this is when i beg the most:

for you never to forget my gentle feelings, and my timid cold fingers.
    i know at best i could be only your afterthought, my dear, and i am learning to live with this, i am learning to live with this fact that you’re letting me slip away.

         you’re with me ‘till this ends, ‘till i have transcended the agony of naive wonderfulness. and i can live with your ghost, these ruins of relics. you’re with me, my sweetheart, ‘till i’m mended and be brave enough to open up to a new soul.
Rollercoaster Nov 2020
A perplexed hand reaches out
and a trembling fingertip reaches the ****.
It circles the burgundy, round grip
with faltering determination
to push the hazel door forward.
this is what happens when you give too much afterthought to your decisions before acting on them.
SL Jul 2019
I remember once, long ago
When you were my entire world
You sent me a text at 2.a.m
The time of the lonely, loving and lustful

I thought it was because,
you were thinking about me.

But it’s taken years
For me to realize
You were never lonely, loving or lustful
Not for me anyway

But because I was an afterthought
I will always be your afterthought
Noura abdulla Jul 2019
Today I visited the town we first met
It felt strange and persuasively calming,
I mean i wanna say i feel happy by the familiarity of the overall (seeing the landmarks, those tiny colored waterfalls near the mall back when i was a kid, my not so favorite school, all those aligned streets in slick rythem that led me home every time I thought I lost track) but see it surprisingly hurts because all I could think about when the sun hits my eyes is how i can blindly remember the way to your front lawn as if it was mine.
It hurts because I know i can drag my feet to your home in this right very second, I could find you in a pitch black evening by the way your feet strikes the earth, and I’d catch up to you and I’d tell you about how I’ve been since you blocked me from your contact list and how i now prefer iced coffee over hot drinks and how i no longer drink orange juice because it causes me heartburn and my well to live curls up in fragile shells and under my finger nails like small rice i hate it because I’m my own wide awake walking ******* menace.
and I miss you.
The thought of you missing a year worth of new findings and updates makes me linger on meals, and under cold showers; because all i wanna do is tell you how it turns out I’m allergic to hair dye, and henna, and pretty much any outsider element that touches my skin for more than thirteen minutes in total.
How I like my new short burnet hair, and that my sister had her first babygirl which makes feel old and I still don’t know if I love it or hate it yet.
and that I grew found of  black coffee, and
how badly i want to adopt a cat as if my life depends on it.
And I AM Angry.
I’m ******* because I wanna ask you how you doing, and how your life away from me been treating your codependency, has it mend you well,
Has my broken glass of memory still hunts your comfort zone.
i want to let you know I still like my Oreos and cereal with cold milk, and I like the way music hold me right back from the end edge of living every night after two thirty in the morning.  and how much i hate how the moon is plain still, and is not as everlasting and it makes me teary eyes for a quarter of a second, and the weather treats my mental health,
I’m ****** because I feel prisoner in my own bone cells and mind frame, and body image and people’s ******* expectations.

I render my mind games into hoping some kinda nature element manipulate you to text me back or persuade you enough to withdraw
Baby, if I’m still in a place to call you that,  if i told you I’m at our favorite place in town would you meet me half way?
because I am really sick of being an afterthought.
KM Hanslik Nov 2018
There are flowers springing from my bones
in places they were never planted
fracture my skull and call it apathy
I say pain is a better road than dying alone;
can't you see the way my vision is blurred,
squinted too long at the sun now I think I've done damage
burned holes in my corneas before the age of 21, but those are just
surface things, right?
the road feels a lot longer when the cold air hits all my soft spots, like my neck so I cover it up
pooling all my efforts into growing thicker blood that will keep my skin warm
;keep kissing bruises on my arms, thinking that love will heal each new halfhearted attempt at self-sabotage
or manage the leftover evidence;
did somebody forget their brakelights on?
I'm trying to figure out how to get these needles out of my head
rocket science, learning to reverse detonate what might be left
in my system
system check, leaving sticky residue
behind me in my heavy concave tracks
softly trailing back
gotta learn to do it right the first time before I backtrack
my ears ringing like a sound clap;
bringing up old war wounds like we've lost gives us some sense of entitlement
things we don't want to lack,
leave the last stack
where I can mull over the aftermath
digging graves for those who are still alive,
burn my skin tonight
burn it right off my bones so I'll know I'm alive
still kicking like the second round
the afterthought that realizes what went down the first time
don't let me out of the house tonight,
god knows what I might find.
Tasneem Anjum Sep 2018
You trust so easily, Fragile Heart
When you know it's when you let them in
That they break you, and tear you apart.

You believe everything you want to hear
Fill yourself up with empty hope
That's recycled out as salty tears.

You tie yourself to the ground with scars
Like a balloon secured on a windy day
So they remind you of who you are.

"I'm not going to be staying here."
You wanted so bad to fly away
But Love, just know, you're not going anywhere.
And here I am again
melanie Jun 2018
I am an afterthought
A second hand emotion
A distant memory that is just out of reach and leaves you vacant

I am the second lover who can never live up to the the first
A lukewarm cup of coffee that you'll drink but never enjoy

I am chipped in the major places of my heart
But you keep coming back to see if you can fix me

Yet neither of us enjoy my anguish
Yeah, I agree with you,
So why you got to yell?
Yeah, I said your right,
What else can I do?
You just wanna fight!
Oh whatever, what the hell?
Did you just say we're through?
That's fine I'll walk that line!
No, plz believe I can walk,
Yeah, there's no reason to
reasonably talk,
Here's your ring,
Your castle is all your's my king!

Now halfway to the road,
You take me into hold?
Hold up, this is enough!
I'm tired of this ****,
Tomorrow you'll apologize & say it was because you were lit!
Happens every time, getting tired
of this same rhyme,
Go ahead & just **** me this time,
Keep choking me until I'm past passed out!
Do what you're always bragging about!

Great just what I thought,
I'm still going to wake up,
like the morning afterthought!
Written 04/232018
When you can't escape neither by life nor death. Fiction.
Julian Revà Apr 2018
There's a gap between what
I fear and what I think
to fear; there's a night, sure,
between those tiny things

Because to fear is to live,
as the leaf
in the burning forest
still breathing, fearing
not the death, but leaving the living

I do not fear the death
I just fear the night falling over
my sholder, my head; my integrity
what it means being me

I fear those things I'm not certain of
(as the rest of living things I think)
But scarier is to know
that we truely do not know
the certainty of all
the things we say we know

And of all those nocturnal dreads
there are a few that keep me awake
waiting for an answer that will never come
as the lost remembrance of an ancient love
as the farther forefather of a forgotten folk
as the man watching through my window
in a windy storm passing by the city

There's a lot of dreads at the midnight
that keep me awake thinking
about things that I should not
but I think all the condamned
are bound to write about nightmares
and imaginariums that does not belong to us
but yet, they're ours to transform

And maybe one day the dreads will go
far away from our city, as the storm
maybe one day we will burn as the leaf
and then we will stop fearing
what we do not really know
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