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Fire has to burn.  
I wish I could hold it.  
Feel its flicker – blue flame  
luster spiraling along my lips.  
Have it dance on my fingertips,  
sweep across my longing skin
in streams of copper gold.  
Tuck it between my ribs  
and tame it.  
But fire has to burn.
Deona Spiteri May 11
Everything suddenly went quiet
So peaceful, so relaxing..
I can't hear a thing, except
the faint sound of my own footsteps,
even though I can't feel the ground.

Everything's moving, yet nothing makes a sound.
Lips changing form, yet no words are spoken aloud.
Running and screaming, still nothing.
I've seen all this before.

These are the best moments of my life.
Yet I can't bring myself to feel happy about it.
I can't feel happy or sad or all the emotions in between.
I try to reach out for these memories, but nothings what it seems.

This world was so enchanting, so peaceful that it felt like death.
So peaceful in fact, I couldn't even hear the screams and tears.
Couldn't hear anything more.
Couldn't move, couldn't see anything,
apart from that which has been seen.

The door closed. It felt like forever, when it was really just 7 seconds.
In those 7 seconds, I relive what was best.
7 seconds of true peace and happiness.
7 seconds of tears of fear.
7 seconds for my blood to turn yellow.
7 seconds for my eyes to lose their spark.
The eyes that once were bright, now hollow.
This poem was originally inspired by the fact that your brain replays it's best memories for 7 minutes before dying! :)
Jay May 11
I once held you so close, like a promise I vowed never to break, something I truly believed even time couldn’t steal. But now, all I feel is the silence stretching between us, and I can’t help but wonder what you’re really thinking. You say you just want to move on, like the love we shared was something disposable. Like I was just a passing moment, easily overwritten by something new. You’ll meet someone else, and he’ll get to see that look I used to dream was mine alone. Just the thought of it twists my gut. I know I won’t forget us, not really, but you’ve already turned our story into something you file away as the past. So I’ll laugh with the guys, play my games, maybe even mention your name like it doesn’t ache,but when the clock hits 3 am., I’ll be wide awake, haunted by questions I no longer have the right to ask. He’ll buy you a drink. You’ll smile, maybe even laugh like you used to at my jokes, and in that small act, I’ll start to disappear, washed away, bit by bit. I don’t think I could ever fill the space you left with someone else’s name. I can’t blame you for trying to move on. But, it hurts knowing you might be doing just fine while I’m still here, burning in the wreckage of what we used to be.
Jay May 10
Real love doesn’t disappear, it settles. It sinks into the soft earth beneath our memories, nestling into the hidden folds of life where even time can’t quite reach. Silence may reshape it, soften its edges, but it never truly leaves. It lingers in a fleeting glance through a crowd, in a quiet song playing in an empty room, in dreams that stretch beyond the morning light. I know I have to go now, the lines have already been drawn across the stars. So I’m trying to follow them without questioning the path. Still, if the universe is kind, if fate forgets to lock the door, then maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance we could find our way back to each other.
Damocles Apr 25
Over my head
With the weight of your sharp words
I feel like Damocles
As the sword is slightly swinging.

Would it **** you to miss me,
When I disappear into a shroud of my own fear?

Sound echoes through galleys
Filling the silence between us
Like tethering the lines that we drew.

Just lead me to water,
Let the waves surround me
I wish to drown in the deep.

Over my head,
With all of your sharp words
I feel like Damocles.

Let the sword fall
And knight me, nightly
As the dark calls
And I whisper back in my dreams.

Let the waves come,
Swallow me under,
I am drowning again
Deeper in black depths.

It won’t **** you to miss me,
When I return to you again.
This is inspired by a journal entry the night before I attempted suicide, looking back I wish I had the tools I have now to take care of my mental health.
Damocles Apr 23
***** is what you are
***** is grunge under the nails
How your gritty tales told pail
In comparison to your dingy secrets
Infectious with your soiled lies
Excrement from bitter lips
Words that never did or ever will mean ****,
Exit from your waste-filled ships.

***** is what you are,
In this way, toxic barrels rot the frogs
Or how you irradiated touch melts minds,
A walking cancer cell, and everything you say is terminal
You’re what turtles suffer, plastic nooses
To hang your head upon loose laurels kept,
***** is all that you are.

***** is what you are,
It’s diesel exhaust exhausting to deal with you
Laborious and full of smog
All for the hope you could find an in
And in the end, gaslight me again.

***** is what you are,
Like toxic markers, or lead paint
And the more you color, the more I’m unimpressed
You are sadness incarnate,
You have bad habits by definition,
And the more you try to get close
I remind myself why I fly further away.

***** is what you are.
We all have toxic people we wish would ******* and leave you be.
Damocles Apr 21
Under the dead oak
Where dead hands reach from the roots
To grab at my legs as I stare up
Into the pallid luminance of the goddess moon.

I wonder if my time should come,
Would I spill all my secrets?
Would these outstretched fingers be calling out to the stars
Receive me as my soul flew from the scars
And saw me off into the distant distance
Would heaven be so hard to achieve?

Well, I’ve spent all my years,
Coming back to this retreat,
Umbral canopies hide my escape
As I write for days about the last one
Because the last one I thought was the one
And in all these moments I’ve -
Grown to know that I’m
Not very certain of certainty, no.

I want to know before I go
Off into the ephemeral ether
Was I ever the one you chose?

As the curtains begin to fall
And the stage starts to fold,
May I find courage,
If I could be so bold,
Reaching the pallid luminance
With arms outstretched by the root
I’ve barked so loud at the moon.

Touched by the light of grace,
Hoping these limbs shape the form of your face
Could you be the one?
Another one that was inspired by my journals from when I was younger. So much teenage angst lol
Damocles Apr 16
Tears that I’ve shed
Are written in books you have never read
I keep the ink warm so it bleeds the words
I have never said.

Too afraid to shed my skin,
These walls weren’t to keep you out
But to keep me in,
And all of my dark sides play violins
Mixed with guitar, a metal opera to see if I sin
But you’ll never know the secrets that I keep
In the gardens out back, where I bury them deep
Hope they grow limbs to cradle you in sleep.

Tears that I’ve shed,
Warm the cooler side of an empty bed
Maybe if I lay a little closer to the edge
I can feel the remnants of your skin.

How it feels to feel so lost
When the world stops spinning at the cost
Of never knowing what it was ever worth
Devalued in the palm of my hand,
You could sell me love, but all I have are pennies.

Words I could never speak
Leak from these shakes leaves
Whisper from the ink and breeze
Carrying my heart like a desperate plea,

Don’t you look me in the eyes
I cannot return to stone,
Once you’ve broken the curse
All I have is this home,
And I know I can never face you -
Without the weight of my pen.

Riddles on my face like a bad tattoo
I’m a maze that no one seems to get through
Amazed that everywhere I look, there’s a new you
But I remain, the bonded spine adhered with the glue
So turn around, or flip the pages
I hope it hurts you, like it hurts my face with
Tears that I’ve shed.

I hope you know
I write about you in books you’ll never read
It's like you were never real,
So tell me now, alone, inside your mind
How does it feel?
this one is a combo! inspired by my teenage journal and playing the guitar.
Damocles Apr 4
Your tongue makes a precise incision,
Words like a scalpel, cutting with precision,
Bypassing my systems like a jewel thief,
Grasping hold of my heart.

Are you a bard or a thief?
It’s hard to tell the difference—
When you play my strings like a guitar,
Out of mind, yet in tune with the violence.
Your eyes direct like storm clouds,
Twisting my image until it suits your need.

Just make a decision—
I’m exhausted with pretense,
Starving for substance,
Why is it that no one replaces what they take?

And if I were a bodega,
I’d stock only the finest farewells,
So you couldn’t buy happiness,
While pawning my world to the highest bidder.
You thought me caramel, but I tasted bitter,
Spoiled long before you spun a web.
I’m not dancing to your tune; the music is dead.
been looking through old journals and trying to create pieces from the entries, these are up for critique and discussion :)
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