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Bree17 22h
i need something to do
anything
to get my
mind
to stop
spiraling

but i dont have the
energy
to
do
anything
anymore
even writing is draining me
the only thing left to do it sleep
How long does it take?
For you to see my poem,
Mr. Publisher?
You have me checking the mailbox,
Over and over, like I’m a little boy again.
Every time I open it and find no letter,
I feel the pain of self-doubt inside.

I wonder, Mr. Publisher, when will you read my work?
Or, have you read it already,
And are planning to send it back?
Using the ‘significant postage’ I left in the envelope.
Will I open your letter,
And find a cold message of rejection?
Or, will you love my poem?
Will you beg me to come publish with you?

Oh, Mr. Publisher, I need to know!
The little boy in me has grow old by now,
He clutches his walking stick,
As he goes to check his mail box.
Looking for that wax postage seal,
Red like the hide of a fox.

Mr. Publisher please!
I grow anxious everyday you do not respond,
And I re-read the poem I sent you almost every hour of the day.
My lover left me, Publisher Man,
She cursed me for giving more attention to you than her.
But matter not, does that!
That witch will see the man she left when I get my letter of approval from you!

Though, she did take most of our things with her,
Left my house a little empty, didn’t she?
Where will I sleep,
If she has the bed.
Alas, Mr. Publisher, I mind not the lack of sleep,
I’d rather spend the time waiting for the letter that's coming soon.
But how close is soon?
I remember telling my friend,
I’d be able to be her lover, soon.
But soon still hasn’t come,
As she still waits at the door for me.

Mr. Publisher, not a very good postmaster this town has!
For I still have not received your message of approval!
How strange is that?
I’m sure it simply got turned around,
It’s been days after all!
Days with no bed,
Days without my lover,
Days missing my friends.

Dear Publisher Man, have you not sent it at all?
The little boy who ran to check the mail,
Had his funeral yesterday.
I was invited, but as you know,
I was busy waiting for you to respond!
I’ll have to visit some other time,
For I’m sure I’ll see the postman who carries your letter soon.

For the first time in days I left my mailbox,
Mr. Publisher,
Well, not by choice you see.
For, you had me waiting for so long,
I died before your letter came!
What a shame,
Guess you didn’t have time for my work at all!

Mr. Publisher, not a soul came to see me be buried in the ground,
I kept telling my dear friends I could be with them again,
Soon.
But soon never came,
And the only one who will weep on my grave,
Are the crows,
And my dear friend,
That I left years ago.
Ha! Will she be my lover now?

You can keep the stamp Publisher Man,
I won’t be using it anymore.
Wrote this while I was waiting to see if I got approval to join this website. It's a little twisted but I think that gives it character.
Mr Shakya Dec 2024
If a bad, unsettling thing is taking place,  
Making me humiliating in my inner space,  
At some boiling, anxious pace.  
Holding tightly, proving biased case,  
Losing the sight of self-knowing’s sole grace.  
I’m just consolidating my inner defined haze,  
To make things appear true in my defined chase,  
To claim my augury true at every place.  
Handling, exploiting inner flowing, mazy pace,  
Imagining to feel hard the defined charm to chase.  
Knowing this decision of self-harass,  
But this is so smothering, exhausting case for himself.  
Where the world is just the consolidating of inner defined haze,  
Blaming world and stuff to be constructing mess.  
My face, my fears, guilty gears and all phrase  
Are working only to fulfill imagined embrace.  
Even this is something been given to me by some random accidental bass,  
Originating from some muddy collision on rough surface.  
This blaze has, if you see, innumerable face,  
None of which has their own eyes but handed gaze.  
While there are either none or all sovereign hands,  
Just like cloudy shapes, random patterns intermingled colors have forms in void names.
Zee Nov 2024
I overslept again today.
Terrified of living life.

Too afraid.
To chase the sun.

I wish on the stars.
To play their part.

Wondering if I will ever be,
Good enough?

To live the life I've always dreamed.
Instead of falling fast asleep.

There's no room for me to breathe.
Suffocating and sabotaging.

The life I want for the life I don't.
Wasting away another day.

Running on empty.
Will it always be this way?

Instead I'll fall fast asleep.
Dreaming of what my life could be.
Persephone II Nov 2024
She held
her
Family
Friends
And Lovers
Hopes,
dreams
and plans
In her hands

And wept
Kara Nyx Oct 2024
She’s the one bright spot in my cloudy days,
Not always around, but she finds her ways.
When I reach out with the weight I bear,
Her words may not fix it, but I know she cares.

Her answers aren’t perfect, but they don’t have to be,
Just her presence is enough to comfort me.
She’s joy wrapped in quirks, strange yet kind,
And somehow, she always brings peace to my mind.

I wonder how long before this, too, fades,
Before the shadows of my life make their trade.
Will the silence grow, will she drift from my side,
Will she see the truth I’ve been trying to hide?

That I’m not enough, that the fun wears thin,
That the cracks in my armor let the darkness in.
But for now, I hold on, each moment a gift,
Afraid of the day when the tides will shift.

I don’t want to lose her, don’t want it to end,
This fleeting comfort, this cherished friend.
Yet the thought lingers, with each laugh and each glance—
How long can I keep her, before life takes its chance?
Platinum Oct 2024
Ouch, A pinch brought me out of where I was
Where was I, who was I, i suddenly felt the urge to sigh
Ooooff, it was my birthday, I was turning 18, another rating, said my friends who were also anticipating
Was I alright?, Miss Chad looked at me in fright

I don't know, Just started looking at classic **** a little to deep
I suddenly knew what to throw away and what to keep
Some birthday gifts just weirdly started spelling the word "creep"
Am I but another lost person or lost sheep

Nauseous, I thought I was sick
I turned on the TV and started calling Rick and Morty, Morty and Rick
It amounted to no time that my homies started seeing signs of the ick
From chilling with the mandem to playing the ladies's pick a *****

Now I'm at a refute to leave
I'm no longer able to play "lots to take, less to give"
Wait, I now have my own taxes and bills
The money I have at my disposal, gives me the chills

Hold on, wait, is this truly maturity
This isn't what my friends told me I should be expecting
Well, it's happened, and at least, I know it can be handled
***** maturity, ***** grown-ups, alas, they are still boats you have to paddle!!!!!
aidan Sep 2024
hello my pal!
my friend!
my guy!

lets gather round’ the camp for tea
i’ll sing to you my dearest song
if you’ll sit with me for the long

i often don’t see much of you or any
now since i’ve been blue.
the days are running rather thin
i wonder how this could have been.

before i start my silly tune
i must profess a word to you
or several words, i realize now
i hate my job
i often frown.

but do not fret
for its a job
where money is made
yet not for long

i’ll quit this job
i’ll quit it now
i’ll quit tomorrow
how does that sound?

or might i live in misery
with i, with you, this cup of tea!
if this is misery, then please
forgive me but i don’t see
this all seems fairly nice to me,
this all seems fairly nice to me.
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