Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
In the midst of jolly red
I alone stood bit distant,
Aloof, and somewhat lonely

Merry is just an arms reach
Yet that gap felt like light-years
Among the crowd, I'm not one

I chose to let the cold seep
It built me my apathy
Supressing both joy and tears

But what sealed can be unsealed,
A hint of warm, long lost love
And I'll wish for stars collide.
I'm made of cobwebs, shaded grays,
echos faded by the murky streetlight;
Festive blobs signal the holidays -
and ricochet off me into the night.
.
A thick, dull fog 'tween me and them,
a brick wall no one can see;
seamless weights in my hem,
and dust inside what used to be me.
.
And then there's you, a year away,
waisted tears, and prayers null;
an end thought for each void day,
a whisper-scratch in my old hull.
.
The words avoid me, skittish things,
like birds that flutter fragile wings;
the right ones are only fledglings,
too young for new beginnings.
.
And I wish that I could care for cold,
worn out flat 'tween mortar and pestle,
a forlorn growth ring in a tree of old,
trapped inside a rotting vessel.
.
.
17.12.2024.
(for G. And for me, I guess)
i wish i were a louse
so i could crawl about
and land on someone's scalp
rodion, exterminate me now
for such a time as this
take a final bow
before ceasing to exist
remove knowledge from within
a minimum wage job
blow on a dandelion
and turn down the volume ****
can the blinds be closed again?
from when i was a child
existence didn't seem so thin
the sauce is only mild
maybe i am mistaken
for i am still young
but will i feel the same
when the photo album's hung?
the opposite of a hobby
is a clean ceramic plate
the milk of human kindness
has gone past its expiration date
hand moves past the hour
writing within its margin
chronos will laugh
as i fertilize the garden
speaking to an empty sky
full of nitrogen and O2
if you really were here
couldn't i know, too?
mephistopheles knows
how long it's really been
spray insecticide in the air
an addition to the compost bin
don't mistake my words
for self deprecation
i simply wish that i
was unaware of termination
a reflection on the awareness of mortality.
Gayathri Nov 23
There’s a snake outside my house
It eats rats
It scares thieves
Tell me why I should **** it?
Maybe one day, it will come around
and swallow me whole along with its tail
"But today is not that day." or so I say
staring at the crimson sky,
as it slithers through the grass.
Pagan Paul Nov 13
Yes, this may be the crime of the century,
the solution Watson is elementary.
He did it! You see that's not so very hard,
so be a dear chap and inform Scotland Yard.

I am bored with this detective endeavour,
I am tired of being so ****** clever.
Sod it! And eternal damnation to all
I'll just wait for the House of Usher to fall.

Why? You ask my reference to Mr Poe.
It's this apathy that is starting to grow.
I cannot be bothered with all this tripe,
so Watson please fetch my violin and pipe.
I seem to writing lots of mildly amusing silly poems... hmmm!
Seren Nov 4
The apathy of my heart refuses to ask for love.
For it is as cold as a gravestone,
in front of which you have buried my bone.
I feel no sorrow, for I have done my part.
I tried my best to make a home out of you
but you kept tearing it down.
I lended my soul to you whenever you walked away,
hoping you to return it as safe and brave.
But whenever you came back home,
you brought it back so weary and grave..
Reimers Sep 14
I don’t know anymore, how to feel something again
Feels like I’m drifting, lost in outer space, to god knows where
Unanchored from everything, yet my chest is heavy, eyes are lifeless
Each day repeats itself, every conversation feels hollow, insincere

I bury myself in work, not to build, but to forget
Laughter doesn’t echo, smiles barely stretch, just motions
And if I disappear, would it really matter?
It’s not selfish, just silent. Space swallows sound, and maybe it swallows me too.

In this silence, I lay dormant—
I no longer expect anymore.
There’s no pull, no push, just a vast, empty stretch.
The stars hang motionless, indifferent
and I’m no different
Spades Lacoe Jun 19
Across arms length before myself,
Windowpane translucent amongst the light,
Glowing brightly against the sunrise,
Reflecting the flame within my might

Violet hues, vibrantly bleeding
Into a perceived heaven,
Nirvana nearly taunting,
Impartial only by the second

Cool blues amass,
Blanketing perception,
Ever expanding their reach,
Offering little connection

Dew below rises,
Heated by desire to be known,
Pulled by the gravity of ownership,
Kin only to a cyclone

Glass before myself,
Grazed by wary tears,
Uncertain of any legacy,
Panels become my mirror

Faltering into dusk,
Unsteadily steps lead on,
Dissension unmasked,
Laced starlight gazed upon
Have you ever tasted bittersweet?
Have you ever felt broken, incomplete?
Has life ever not been fair blue skies?
Have you always seen through complacent eyes?

Sometimes, comforting the grieving soul
It isn't easy, but you don't know
Seeing tears, you're repulsed and unsure
You'd rather argue than console

Sympathy was made for thee
Apathy thy familiarest treat
For your lukewarm meals I pity thee
Your have never tasted bittersweet.
If you're reading this, it's not about you, don't worry
Next page