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Kewayne Wadley Nov 2016
I never just agreed to the complexity of modern technology.
This whole wait now
I just called to say hi.
I mean face it, we are wasting precious minutes
While the boogieman still sits in the deepest crevice of our minds.
The things that drive us wild.
Our fantasies.
The pajama pants left untied for a reason.
The warm hands that await comfort.
**** the phonelines for not receiving that message.
That ******* voicemail recorded soon as the boogieman creeps in just as we close our eyes in wait.
**** you for not picking up the phone in time.
For not committing the intrusion of the late night thought of you.
Bare feet, long shirt and velvet thong.
The sprinkle of perfume dotted beneath your bellybutton meant for me.
The gasp of your moans passionately fogging up the screen of your Galaxy note.
The custom text sent only with a picture beneath a pulsating background.
Give me one good reason we should continue to use these **** phones while they tempt us with what we already know.
When what we feel is more personal than some **** handheld device
Jellyfish Nov 2016
5
My face hurts from smiling
I just can't stop.
The things you say to me
Make my heart throb.

I can't tell if I'm nervous,
or happy or both
But I do know one thing,
Our love will continue to grow.
Don't look at me ><
Tony Luna Oct 2016
I close my eyes and the black sea rises.
As I try to sleep, I feel my body sway.
My dreams are filled with many surprises.
So I force myself to stay awake till the next day.
I love amusement parks, but when it comes to sleeping it *****. Then when I start to dream it gets crazier. So I force myself to wake up.
blue mercury Oct 2016
i.
i still feel you in those times when i can drain the pain from my veins just long enough to smile, before it rips my skin and crawls its way back into my blood stream.

ii.
you are every poem i have ever written about love in a nutshell. you are so **** pretty. your pretty is a shredder, still ripping me to particles when all i want to do is sleep. forever.

iii.
i'd sing no doubt but you don't speak anyway. if i disregarded that though, would you see the irony? would you see that what i mean is i love you, i love you, i freaking love you, and i'm sorry i didn't try hard enough.

iv.
i still think you weave words like blankets for newborn angels. even when the blanket is wool, and it's itchy, and god babe, was that last poem about me? because if so, i want to ask if i'm a baby angel or if i'm just one or the other, a baby or an angel. because right now i don't feel like either, i just feel lost.

v.
you make me sick.

vi.
not because i don't love you.

vii.
i'd prefer you burn me with words instead of whipping my already scarred heart with silence. now my wings are falling off and i am falling apart with them. the cloud i'm floating on is pitch black and its on a pathway to something horrible.

viii.
i define fragility with silent sobs in the back of my throat. my wrists still throb even though for almost a year, i've been totally clean. the amount time i've been clean is coincidentally very close to coinciding with the amount of time i've known you, and i don't know if ever knew you because i never thought you'd just go like this.

ix.
i left for you. almost everything i do is for you- why don't you understand?

x.
i'm still not ready to say goodbye so the change in the weather tries to do it for me. it says that a new season means a new life, and since i didn't know how to live without you in the old one, maybe now i can learn to live without you in this new one.

xi.
this is almost a goodbye. one day, maybe it will be.
very personal. ack.
blue mercury Oct 2016
i don't kiss angels
but i love them until i
become one myself
mickaela Sep 2016
I know there are others,
                                                         ­                                                        Like me
                         They are there, searching for each other (and themselves),
                                                    ­                                                            Like me
                                                      I know they are slowly learning the truth
                                                           ­      That, like me, they are not like you

                                                            ­                                                          You
   ­                                                                 ­                            Are you like me?
                                                             ­                    Maybe not, or maybe yes
                                                Maybe, you’d like me, because I am like you

                                                            ­                          But perhaps you aren’t
                                                          ­                       Maybe, you aren’t like me
                                                              ­                     And that’s okay too, you

                                                            ­                                 You are not like me
                                                              ­                     And you are everywhere
                                                    An­d its just like me, to want to be like you

                                                            ­                        You want to be different
                                                       ­                       Unlike me, I want the norm
                                                            ­                    I want to be common...but

                                                   ­        If you were like me and I was like you
                                                  You’d want to be me and I’d want to be you

And, like you, I’d be connected
With the world, related
I’d be like you, associated
With the world, correlated

Like you...I want to be “different”
No,weird.....”Unique”?
Like you, I’d want to be “special”
But isn’t that just odd?

                                                      You know what
                                                        Let’­s just stop
                                                        Tiri­ng, isn’t it
                                                      Confusin­g, silly
                                             Foolish, completely idiotic

                                                    Midw­ay, Let’s end
                                                         Let’s just be
                                                        You and me
I have been on both sides of the spectrum-too weird and too normal. When I felt out of place, I wanted to be normal. By normal, I don't mean boring or whatever. No one is really boring, after all. I mean...you know, normal. Normal?
I know, I don't know what that is either. After I became what I thought was normal, I did feel dull and boring.And it was tiring, pretending to be someone I'm not.

The wise voice in my head told me that I was being stupid and that normal doesn't exist and that everyone is weird and blah blah blah. That voice is probably right. But no matter what, I'll always want to fit in. I don't even want to be 'normal' anymore. Just accepted.

Thanks for reading<3
Audrey Maday Sep 2016
9/3
The burn marks on my skin,
Left by his prints,
Make me never want to be held again.
Ghost Writer 3 Jul 2016
I feel a quiet pain
One which sits there
But to tired to form a name
I feel apathy, in the dark corners of hate
I know one thing, yet the guilt fills me too full
From the wound on my hand, to the wound on my knee
The bruising is not pretend, it just lives in the depths of me

e.s.
Some people
I know
need a
"mute" button
installed immediately
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