ryan Sep 12

spite is simply in my nature
you show me your back and ill show you the knife
i give you the most genuine of my fake smiles
to gain your trust for my agenda and nothing more
and if i begin to feel bad dont worry
it wont last
instead, i cut it off and continue moving
going and going going going
spreading sickly sweet fake smiles
and half truths and things that look and feel like good intentions
"they could never hurt anyone theyre far too kind"
if only they could feel the serrated edge in their spine
as they continue to love and praise me

im. not a good person
IamJayMack Sep 3

My ship stands abandoned,
Rocking, riding, rolling in the tempest,
I stand ashore on Helena,
Waiting, watching, wanting in self exile,

I will rise again; Allied with time,
Time is your foe; True as hair grows,
Enjoy your prime; I've yet to see mine,

When my coffers cough coin I will spit fire,
As sure as you know that the sun will rise,
No winter ever lasts; long as they may seem,
And in the dead of the night I am recovering,
With the passing of time I grow stronger,
At the end of the maze is the monster,

Check your horizons daily; keep a vigil,
One cold day you'll be spent and vulnerable,
You'll find the mountain beacons burning,
A thousand sails paint the distance white,
Now a fear you simply cannot ascertain,
I fall, but I rise, I rise again.

I want to burn
Everything that I ever gave to you
I would douse myself in gasoline
And smile through the flames
But I never seem to have
Enough matches
To set this whole world ablaze

I  gave you everything and more

Darkness appears
When one is not sincere
Nothing but a cloudy scenery
As a result of the ambiguity
Lots of chaos and confusion
Along with frustration
For it is better to be forthright
Instead of putting up with a fight

Mark Lecuona Aug 2

what is old is new,
when it is discovered by children;
what is life is no longer true,
when a wise man’s words are carelessly spoken;
the age of purpose can only be measured
by the circumstance and pain of its birth;
but to send an olive branch,
flying into a storm created by your own breath;
is to send a message that cannot be accepted,
and to ask for forgiveness that cannot be expected;
for who would send kindness to its death,
except the one who never knew its worth

Cat Lynn Jul 31

Sweet to the Mouth,
but Bitter to the Body

Thanks aL1gn3d for the poem idea XD
chipped tooth Jul 16

Spit the small words stuck
between the gaps of your teeth.
Before too long, they will begin
to decay the bones of your mouth.
Your smile will be stained
with things hoarded behind your lips-
Those little bits of bitterness
spread sour on your tongue.
Take a string drawn taught,
or a sharp stick
and carve out those nasty thoughts
and see just how much
your gums bleed

There ain't much to talk about
No more.
I guess That's the way it is
When you're on the Road to Divorce?
You aren't invested in the Future,
But you don't want to be bitter about the Past.
There ain't much to talk about
No more

Tay Jul 11

Some are born to their natural mothers
But oh not me
Some are adopted that is me
But the hardest thing is
When your birthmother gets married
And is ready to have a child
Thus want more to say when she has a child is force a smile
And say congrats what do you say
You keep that child but yet not me
You were young and foolish and
You went
Too far
But now suddenly reality turns harsh and the whole thing goes too far
That's the thing they will be my half sibling
Which is
Quite hard for
Whenever I visit them or see them after they are born
I will be reminded
That they were lucky keeping their mom
While my half sibling is smiling I will be crying
For in Grief And realization hits me
Now she's ready to have a child
She actually keeps
Every time I will see that new baby
It is like a knife embedded in me
Unlike me
Who was adopted
Treasure It

Sometimes I am proud of being adopted sometimes I want to curl up in a ball and cry

Sometimes I wake up at 3 a.m.
Body shaking,
and the phantom beat of a drum beating under me.
I saw my favorite band,
you saw her in my smile.
I wonder if you were ever mine,
if you ever planned to let me in.
Or if I was always destined to be a hazy month,
Something you remember only when you have nothing left.
Nothing about you was hazy.
You were clean cut and hard pressed,
pressing on me like a rib on a heart,
Unbearable at times.
I hope she's not another hazy May.
I hope she has so many lines and hard edges,
that Picasso himself rolls over in his grave.
But I hope you cut yourself on her edge one day,
and get swept away back to my hazy May.

a poem to my first heartbreak that i just found in my notes (the poem, not him; though he's back too)
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