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Nigdaw Oct 2021
as I lay down my head
my phone next to me
on the bed
your text
vibrates across the mattress springs
like a technological tinnitus
inside my ear
my consciousness
you want to talk
but not like that
just to make an unarguable point
guilt ridden acronyms
miss-spelt accusations
and inappropriate emojis
convey your emotions
with a twisted sarcastic humour
interlinked with your vent
you know that from the safety of 4G
it aggravates me
I’m bored with it all
too much to even reply
it would make more sense
if you weren’t
abusing me from the spare room
Norman Crane Sep 2021
we spoke / we listened
now we are each other's head-
aches, quietly break-
ing
Norman Crane Sep 2021
coffee cup broken
pieces strewn across the floor
sharp words were spoken
now we are silent;       no more
(s)weeping;    sad ceramic gore
Swan Songs Feb 2021
Colourful discussion
Free to be unfair
Our intentions strictly pure
But hastened resolve braced the air

Some misleading understood
Selfishly devoted
I felt compelled to share the truth
Of what I felt should truth itself

But you laughed at me and my blasphemy
You laughed at me and my blasphemy

As if I declared the world was round
The "context" is not an excuse
how can rumors
be only unfortunate news?

The fault is yours but I am the one you accuse

You appeal to reason and want a truce
but why do I feel like I can't choose?
His4Her is a series of poems with different points of view of fictional people
I needed you to agree
So that I could be free
Of you
Of them
Of it
I needed you to agree
Because arguments always look better that way
agree with me.
Kai Mar 2021
vices binding my soul; ever complying
perfect obedience; never denying
i'm silent no matter how terrifying
i'm on the verge of tears but never crying
my lungs only produce a quiet sighing
i'm screaming final breaths but never dying
and all the while my pain's intensifying
my wings fledged and outstretched but never flying
i try to speak but there's no point replying
i'm done with all your endless justifying

you could've changed, but you're just never trying
the 11 syllables thing is part of the poem. you get lured into thinking it will flow nicely like an iambic pentameter, but then you reach the end of the line and you feel like you have to interrupt yourself to maintain the rhythm. that's because you do. that's how it's meant to be read. the interruption is part of the poem.

you can read this in multiple ways. either one person struggling against another, or two people arguing.
Lee Carter Dec 2020
I argue with you inside my head
Angered by words you've never said.

I write our scripts to my design
Then am vexed when you botch your lines.
Dedicated to the lady.
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