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Matthew 7d
"It's okay"
A whisper from your soul
words so
ethereal
because they
come from you
You,
I,
might be wrong,
    but buried in your shirt
the phrase
makes the tears fall
My heavy eyelids
Your blue shirt,
is now the perfect pillow.
Seanathon Feb 8
The self says no
You cannot be
All that you once we're never me

Albeit truth past all within
There is also future time yet spent
To be more than all that has ever been

So move yourself
Til you you move again
Before the self can find it's voice and then

Would you tell yourself
You must
You can
Lol
Chris Feb 5
all the wrong words have been spoken,
strikes landed, and left scars open.
I wear it as a charm, a token.

I'm nobody, I am broken.
David Jan 22
I see you crying
because of the dark shadow in me,
but your sorrow is my sorrow
as your happiness is my happiness and
I want to cry too,
I want to cry with you,
trying to comfort you
when it's impossible to
because I am what I am
and I can't change the past,
I can change myself
and I can't do nothing more than staying with you,
hugging you in our tears,
maybe we will cry forever
thinking about how good it would have been
if I really were a better person
as you believed when you chose to stay with me.
I want to watch the sky with you
and give you a star to make you happier,
but I know it's not enough,
I just want to take care of you,
stay in my arms,
I'm always here,
I want to make you feel warm,
singing you a lullaby
because I love you infintely,
there's no love like you,
because your feelings are my feelings,
and your heart is one and dual with mine,
and my biggest dream is to see you fly again one day,
again,
high in the sky,
higher and higher
towards the sun
and there will be
no more tears,
no more shadows,
just the shine in your eyes
to smile again.
I wrote this poem to my ex girlfriend after an argument.
In few words I told her I didn't believe her, but I was angry just because I missed her, always away from me.
baby all I wanna do
is try and get along with you
why do we have to fuss and fight?
can't figure out, it's just not right

I know I slept in kinda late
I'm sorry, I don't feel so great
I'm trying to change the way I feel
but you just don't see the appeal

I can't be still, I can't be lazy
and you look at me  like I'm crazy
or worse, like it's some kind of crime
to build myself and **** some time

I'm sorry that I can't sit still
it's just the way I have to deal
I go too far, I get obsessed
but if I don't, I get depressed

at least, if I work out a bit
I won't feel like a *******
lie to myself, at least that way
I had a good, productive day

and if I went to meditate
at least, I got my thinking straight
but with all this, you're just annoyed
with everything that brings me joy

can we start over?
baby, please
I love you
I don't wanna leave
but when you
start to act this way
it really pushes me away

can't play guitar,
can't take a ***
without you finding fault with me
and that's just how
you make me feel
I gotta doubt if you're for real

so tell me, baby
what did I do?
I'm trying so hard to get along with you
don't wanna go,
I wanna stay,
but I feel like we need some space

to meditate,
to cook and clean,
to work off nervous energy
why does it have to cause a fight?
and cut into my sleep at night?
my anxiety, ADHD, and bipolar are all ******* with me at the same time today. Sorry if I'm getting on your nerves, I'm really trying to get my **** together.
Rita Sailor Jan 8
i moved down the street
across the pub you've done your drinking at
the new guy's sorry to say
your name doesn't ring a bell
                                                  guess five minutes is five munites now
Rita Sailor Jan 1
how do i live with an open wound, you said, unsure where it is, yet already sensing it's about to rupture
make sure to change band-aid every so often and learn how to cook
ravyn Dec 2018
im a poet and i didnt
even know it
the words stream from my mind
like a raging river
swept away by the
current and im pulled under
my chest burning (and my eyes, always the eyes) and
my head might explode soon
from the Words i cant
stop falling out of
my mouth

a glass of punch staining the floor
the effect hard to get rid of when it
sets(sits, words weighty and unaddressed
in the empty room and feelings float
broken and tear stained)
it takes some work to cover a punch
and the parties are still affected (effect, effect) until
someone brings it up

but a normal conversation? can we
have a conversation youre
not talking to me or with but at and
the only way i can express this is
evidently the written word
but will you read the way you
argue (loud brash stubborn ***)
  if the only way to get rid of this
  residue is to talk
  im not sure if it matters how i communicate
  its like a schoolyard and your
  emotions are blanking out over my sidewalk drawing with white chalk
  because god forbid your opinions ever wait
this is more like slam poetry so i guess better spoken aloud
Deadwood Jawn Dec 2018
Some of us Christians                                    
          Some of us do a fantastic job                          
                       Some of us do an odd job              
                                Some of us do a terrible job.  

                                                         ­    And that's not O.K.

Because some of us will never agree on anything.
But that's O.K.

                                                           ­                   It isn't O.K to
                    
                                                     Attack
                                            Attack      At­tack
                                         Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
              CKATTACKATTACK            ­ATTACKATTACKAT
              attack                              ­                                      attack
              ckAtta­ckAttackAttack            AttackAttackAttackA
                   ­                      Attack            Attack          
                              ­           Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­ Attack            Attack
                                        ­   Attack         Attack
                                            Attack       Attack
                                              Attack   Attack
                                                     Attack

                                  T h e  o t h e r  b r o t h e r s !
Live by the sword, die by the sword. This is one of the causes of my mental distortions. It is likely borderline. Who knows. This was written after getting fed up with the Christians shouldn't have tattoos debate. Oppressive household. **Use computer for intended layout**
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