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Creator Sun Oct 6
Hey
Hey.
You probably won't see this,
But what I want to say is that I.
I hate you.

You're stupid.
Filthy.
Unreasonable.
There isn't enough words to describe your awfulnesses.

So why does it hurt?
Why does it hurt when I push you away?
Why does it hurt when you chase someone else?
Why does it hurt so much?

As much as I want to say 'I hate you!',
I realise that I.
I.
I love you.

It's stupid, isn't it?
If I told you this, you'll laugh at me.
Reject me. Pity me.
I just know you will.

And that's why I never told you.
That's why I kept pushing you away.
That's why I'm drifting away, drifting away
From my light. You.

But absence makes the heart fonder,
Doesn't it?
It hurts so much, it feels like I've
Left my heart behind. With you.
I'm salty that my poem got lost due to a connection error. Anyways, do you think this letter fits a Tsundere or Utsudere better? I'm experimenting with letter formats in an attempt to raise my motivation for my scenario writing which is where I've been focusing most of my attention onto. I have a lit exam tomorrow too, so extra practice in analysing my own poem for me!
Seanathon Sep 24
The rain unsettling shakes more than me
It shakes the summer out of the pensive trees
The quiet out of the evening still
The confidence out of the newfound skill
And more so than the colored leaves
Which newly rest on dampened ground
As the sorting of the rain gives way
Resulting in a plethora of familiar sounds
All merging beneath and moving fast
Like a symphony of cicadas in the summers past
Known only to one in time as the same  
As the parting whisper of trees in the rain
Written on a whim tonight, when I first heard the rain greet the evening trees and their fading leaves. True story, the idea behind this is that the trees part ways with their leaves, just as we human beings will one day have to part ways with our children. Slowly, steadily and with a whisper.

Hi SVK!
Zane Smith Sep 23
the days I feel
my brain is blocked,
I take a step back
go for a walk.
no phone needed
through the neighborhood.
searching for peace
a quiet state of mind,
finding ways
to leave it behind.
one way I take my pause for the day, giving my brain a moment to process
Peter B Sep 22
And when I die,
the fame will come,
but I'll be far away from the limelight,
from all the glitter and gold.

From posing to cameras,
from being someone I'm not,
from doing this for the money.
I'll be far away.

I'll be - home.
Nylee Sep 15
A clear sky
No grey sight
With fist full of desires
green dreamy eyes
I fly away
.
Invisible Sep 15
Looks like she has more power than the king,
But the king rules all,
She's just a doll.
Sit there, look pretty,
When he asks for it, lie.
Sit there, look pretty,
When they come for him, die.
She has more freedom than the king,
As well as less protection,
She's just a decoration.
Stand tall, talk short,
Let him make all the decisions.
Stand tall, talk short,
Wait for him to close the curtains.
Bound by her duty.
Can't escape the ruling.
By his side, or by his feet.
Doesn't matter, it's just meant to be.
She's going to sit there, look pretty,
She's going to stand tall, talk short,
But she's going to fight for them, walk freely,
Because she knows it's all for her to keep.
Said I would make more. And I did.
This one's longer.
Poetoftheway Sep 12
will my roots wither if I pull away?

this, incessant self-querying,
the heart pain tug that tugs on a
clockwork-random schedule,
should I pull it up by the roots,
that, the deepest cut of all.

when you obsess, perplexed about responsibility,
about escape, from what you’ve planted,
which came up with thorns unexpected.

the sweat, from the care and feeding,
rankles and saddens, for this
investments sour taste makes you question
your common-sensical nonsensical,

that intersection where the heart and the brain clash fearsome.

this is oft, too oft, how life sinks it teeth
into you, and extracting those thorns,
leaving teeth marks
hurting long long time after
those withered roots get tugged, pulled,

like a pain in the heart that was exorcised,
but couldn’t never be fully excised


9/12/19
Michael Hole Sep 10
The reason I don't like you,
let me put it into words.
You're a prat, a drain and a hypocrite,
a ****** characterless ****.

You talk,  you talk, you ******* talk
But you never say a thing.
You think that you give speeches
Like Dr. Martin Luther King.

But you don't because your boring,
You bore us all to tears.
Ruining every social event,
by banging on for years.

Bla bla ******* bla bla bla,
your monotone drones on.
You're in love with the sound of your own voice,
while we just want you gone.

So pack your **** up in your soapbox,
And turn your answer machine on.
Then ******* back to snoresville,
or wherever the *******'re from.
Erian Sep 9
I can count your name a million times
From fading stars to sunrise
There's nowhere I'd rather be
Under the sun's shining gloom.

If meteorites faded upon the ground
If the moon danced, crumbling down
If the galaxy was safe and sound
Would you stand there with me
Under the sun's shining gloom?

If we sank beneath the sea
If the world's turned upon our reach
If we watched Earth plummet underneath our feet
Would you stand there with me
Under the sun's shining gloom?

Or would we drown below the blue?
Would you pull away, as you do?
Would you pick up the pieces, lathered in glue?
If we stood under the sun, blazing like crystals in the dew
Would we fall apart?
Or is it too soon?
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