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Alexis 8h
I thought of you once more,
The way you broke me,
My heart is at war,
I no longer wish to be.
My wings lost all their feathers,
I can never fly,
I just sit and write letters,
Until my thoughts die.
You indeed strangled me,
A little innocent rose,
I cannot let my petals flee,
Pain is what I chose.
Bursting in flames,
My heart still cries,
When it hears your name,
Denying your lies.
My soul consisting of agony,
Wishes to become a ghost,
Disappearance my path shall be,
I will run from you the most.
Your name will never caress my lips again,
Nor will you break my bones,
The memory of you will be my pen,
Writing on the stones.
I am going alone,
This pain will never be spoken of,
The wind has blown,
Taking away my guarded love.
Using an old steel pliers
He extracted the entire goodness out of me
And hid it in a leather-pouch he carried
I bled profusely
The pent-up evil burst forth to attract more of it
And the white marble floor was dull grey
Where I stood to wonder what else was there
Inside me that I could easily lose
There was hardly any goodness left to protect me
I was worried
My eyes sought the last flicker of twilight
That seemed to have vanished all of a sudden
But I did not see any evil or noble apparitions
Floating about
Fear had not set in yet
The air had not acquired an acrid stink
The stink that is said to rise from the soot-covered pot in which
Morbid thoughts brewed are allowed to stagnate
Outside the leaves had yellowed
And the talk was on to ignore me
I had expected to be summoned by the keeper of Time
sushii 4d
goddamnit can you just

stop doing

everything wrong?
the passage of Time
through the tunnels
of my mind

renders a weary passenger,
(impossibly burdened
by the slight breeze
grazing cheek and
rushing by)

He yells in frustration,
a ringing in my ears

plants fists in the walls,
a throbbing in my head

when i close my eyes,
i picture the passage of Time:

white-knuckled, clenching the steering wheel
his back is buckled, a bitten-up pencil,
and the haunting rattle of wet,
staccato breaths

"i want to escape"

and i am sorry--
eternally, sorry
The imagination is evidently pure; its here --
The ascent of ideas and valiant colours, and hysterics
In matrimony- on this delirious evening mood
(But he needs more paper to write)

We are familiar with The Great what's-his-name?
Ah - The Bard, out of the reserved shadows he would abrupt,
Create scenes of quiet saints turned to garrulous beings
(But he needs more paper to write)

On his tattered paper, he would write of idle witches, comedies, tragedies, of
The insanity of Love, the flaws of princes, fools, knights,  daughters, servant boys,
His work resembles that of festival with black and blue harlequins
(But he needs more paper to write)

The pity for Jesters, Twice as bloomed as the audience laughs at him!
What pessimism, what insanity, caused such a twist in this plot? they say
To understand the agony of the human spirit, where he writes inexhaustibly
(But he needs more paper to write)...

Tribhu 6d
I called you once or twice, yet the phone kept ringing,
And nothing more but my sighs
Filled my dark room with shadows clinging
I wanted to tell you, tell you what's left unsaid
When you left my doorstep, my silence filled the hollow you hate.
You wanted answers I couldn't give
I couldn't shade my tears for you then,
For you I tore myself and died and lived.
Vigile my soul, agile my eyes
Weakened by the agony, a fragile heart dies!
Let me tell you, my love
Tell you what I felt for you.
I felt the sunshine, the moonlight
The thunderstorms raging through.
I'm fragile, let me go.
Your heart still beats, but mine beats no more.
I wanted to tell you, how I die
And even death can't do us apart
Filling your heart with abundant cries.
Don't you cry when I leave, I will though
If you love me, you'll let me go.
I call you no more, my heart skipped a beat
I'll love you till the moonlight shines
Even in new moon, soon enough we'll meet.
Pained my soul, I couldn't let you know,
How much I loved you, even my fragile heart loved you so.
"My heart lays in sadness,
it silently cries in pain"
My heart is broke and I'm out of glue.
sushii 7d
what have i done?

my heart
has been filled to the top with liquid—
a glimmering red,
so much so that
it just
burst open.

what have i done?

my heart
is a porcelain doll.
so beautiful, that you want to touch it, but
once you do, it shatters into a million pieces,
because you drop it.

what have i done?

my heart
is a thief with a knife.
it holds it to your chin,
as you struggle and squirm underneath the blade.

look what i have done.

look what i have done.
shiv Sep 10
and this is the apathy that will kill her,
this rotting agony which roils in her veins.
and this is the apathy that will break her bones,
regardless of her attempts to halt it.
and this is the apathy which will eat her whole.
and this is the apathy that will decimate her soul.
"I'm a prisoner
of my own mind,
sentenced to life"
Anxiety, grant me a parole?
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