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Hunter Sep 12
My life is turning into the bargain store,
And I hope you don’t mind most of me is used.
For example this broken heart,
If you find all the missing parts,
You’ll be surprised how kind it really is.

The store is open come inside,
You can easily afford the price,
You may find what you are looking for.
I can’t guarantee that’ll you’ll be satisfied.

If you don’t mind that half the merchandise is used,
With a little mending,
It could be as good as new
After being used and abused many times, I start to feel like like a item given to pawn stores. Nothing fancy to brag about, hopefully you'll find in me what you want. I'm not perfect, in fact I'm broken but with a few tweaks I can be better.
m h John Jun 27
denial:
you tell yourself
they just needed a break
a vacation for the day
until a vacation turns into a week
and a week to a month
then you realize all the questions you have
are left wrapped in cellophane

anger:
your presence to me
was as calm as the sea
until i remembered every promise
you ever made
and then suddenly i become the sea
and these waters are no longer
soothing to me
but are now a violent whirlpool
where all my emotions
end up in the middle of

bargaining:
this is where my “what ifs” come into play
and how my “what ifs”
create a fake imagination
to where it is now a fake escape
from any kind of pain
until i can adjust to what my reality
is now set up to be

depression:
these black out curtains
still aren’t dark enough for me
i can still see your face
sitting in every picture frame
on my walls
with your smile
hanging there picture perfectly

acceptance:
this is the final stage
now i finally feel alive and free
the sun is no longer my enemy
but is now a friend to me
to remind me everyday
that i am alive and okay
i am now content with this
being my reality
break those picture frames, seeing the shattered glass will help make you feel better
Laokos Jun 22
here I go,
blundering through another day

trying to show up for my end of
the bargain.

I sit here,
with this pen and this notebook,
and the stuff is
supposed to barrel through me.


it's supposed to shake the debris free.

it's supposed to melt the lock.

it's supposed to blast my cemented mind apart.

it's supposed to summon shadows and make them dance.

it's supposed to swim on the surface of the sun.

it's supposed to show me all the rainbows in the darkness.

it's supposed to shine the silver on all my shredded scraps.

it's supposed to reach through all my ******* and show me:

     emeralds and pearls\teeth and knives\
     blood and glass.

it's supposed to twist the blade and spit in the ****.


but this morning,
it's the big bupkis
     -nada

just the weight
of its silence...



that *******
probably
has the
day off
too.
Allyssa Nov 2018
Skin on skin,
Tracing each other’s bodies with gentle fingers,
Grabbing with needy hands,
Wanting each other a little less.
Emptying our souls,
Light being cast away,
Love wasn’t here.
No,
Love was an illuminating star.
Our definition of love was like the crumble of earth,
Letting it fall through the cracks of our fingers,
Dissipating.
Diminishing.
Delirious.
We didn’t make love,
No,
We made numbing promises within our bodies.
Our temple,
Our beloved temple,
We forgot the structure of which it sat upon and now,
Crumbling like the earth,
It collapsed.
It fell and it caved and it hurt.
It hurt like hell.
Our bodies continued to collide,
To touch,
To grind against one another,
But we did not complain.
Feeling physical was the only thing that kept us feeling at all.
*** wasn’t apart of the deal but I guess it is now.
Kalarav Oct 2018
Of what cost is a smile?
Of what cost is a 'hi, how are you?'?
Of what cost is an act of kindness?
Of what cost is selfless love?
Our ego seems like a good bargain.
Or simply a good gain.
Chelsea Primera Jun 2017
There is a wishing well where I live,
filled with coins down the bottom,
some are shiny, some old, some rusting into the water.
Circles of copper, silver, aluminum and gold.
Here I will take a bet,
throw my first quarter into the pond,
There it falls with a bubbly thud.
Day by day I will sit by it, murmur a silent prayer,
Doing nothing as the sun set.
So when the dawn comes,
I will get exactly the opposite
of what I wished for,
My coin lost among the thousands,
In this miraculous wishing well.
Äŧül Dec 2017
Look there - my beauty sleeps!
Oh my dear pal Time steer,
Why do you overwork?

Take some rest, over here,
Let her rest & rejuvenate,
Allow her to sleep till dark.

Come, pal Time, let us bargain,
And you settle for a slower pace,
She's tired, my baby, let her sleep.
Personification of time.

My HP Poem #1684
©Atul Kaushal
Isabelle Sep 2017
Under the moonlight
In the middle of the cold night
You will hear an elegy
The coldest, saddest story

Of how his heart was stole
Of how he lost his soul
To a maiden so heartless
Yes, a maiden so heartless

Many said, it wasn't stole
Instead he sold his soul
For a priceless illusion
To be with the girl of his ambition

So the story goes
The sinister he calls
To bargain something worthy
For a heart that costs no penny

He sold all of him
To get all of her
But the wicked will win
And the fool will suffer

Buying her heart doesn’t mean
Getting her love and affection too
Giving all of you doesn’t mean
Getting the same of what you do

So every night you’ll hear
Like a wolf wailing to the moon
Who can’t get hold of his dear
A man murmuring a mournful rune
Finally finished this one, after being stucked in my drafts for a long time.
Yep, up for some stories.
Tehreem Dec 2016
When life killed life in embrace
With the raw kiss of words
Each moment died in love bargain
Wedding-bed turned into crypt
The hate sprouted day by day
Bitter and vile dripping the dark
Stripped sweet past that was lost
Bare in awe of rushing scattered rain
Lasted in pieces of mighty fury
Frayed forlorn gone forever
No more yelled the flower in thorns
Withered season brushed goodbyes
For you in your dark, in your light.
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