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Mark Wanless Feb 2023
they say and therefore
we are imaginary
blind money makers
Mark Wanless Jan 2023
there is a something
that i want and want and want
it makes me blind now
Coleen Mzarriz Dec 2022
The slit between the roof and the abandoned house gets me—the moon drowns in his own mystical clouds, wavering and so full of light.

I squint my eyes as the moon hides his presence from me. Almost knowing I had captured it with my own eyes and the grey clouds scattered like waves, consuming my breath and taking it away.

He knows it still haunts me from time to time and he gave his best to give me an embrace—even when my very own existence is running cold and dry and my breath thickens with the mist of unwavering thoughts coming from the night and the stars twinkle at the sight of people looking at them—like a mirrorball entertaining strangers from the club and they shine in their spot. Even when I close my eyes, the moon peaks in its stillness. All the poets used him as their muse, radiating this mellow one could think of when the sun sleeps in her slumber. The poets had perfectly described him in thousands of words and painted him over the mural where I can see him directly and the strangeness of him calms the raging waters in me.

Even when peace is quite chaotic and chaos is peaceful, a trap between the slit on the roof and the abandoned house, squinting my eyes as the moon hides his presence from me. And she haunts me as the sun begins to show herself in ways I am blinded by her light.

In some ways, she shines even when it is night.
In a way, she looks over the moon when he wakes up from his slumber.
In a way, the stars and clouds enveloped her with the warmness of their breath.
In some ways, I couldn’t look at her for too long.
In some ways, I am silenced by her beauty.
Wrote this around October and as I’m scrolling through my notes, I found this. Glad I still have this poem.
Yoh Esters Nov 2022
She told me it was like a thick fog. Orphan clouds that will never see the world from above. The way she described her blindness was like taking the next step in hope it doesn't lead you off the cliff.

She  saw the world through her hands. Her touch gave her the canvas, while her mind was the paint brush. Yet, she wanted to see it all. Surgery was the only option.

My Past Self Asked: "What didn't you know back then?"
My Present Self Answered: "I know now that love hurts as much as it heals. I made a
𝐏ast
𝐑eassurance
𝐎pening
𝐌emories
𝐈ntroducing
𝐒timulated
𝐄xpect­ations
to be there for her eye surgery. I'll be the first face she sees, but I wasn't there for her. So she only saw herself.......... she only saw the world without me in it."
Maja Nov 2022
Human life is funny. I tend to think of us as candles.
And we flicker.
We’re small.
We die.

But, you feed that candle, it can be a fire.
And we burn.
We blind.
We remember.
My Dear Poet Jun 2022
Because you’re upside down
in my mind
You may as well change the light
Or keep us blind
As we sit here in my head
all night
I see you
you see others

I am an address
not on your list

I, silent
you, short on attention

I, understated elegance
you seek the crumpled and crumbled

I, content
you, bored

I, ever present
but for you always a blind spot
This poem is from my book of poems - Vendor of Poems available on Amazon and Kindle
Sophie Mar 2022
A moment in time and space,
a white scar against a fawn hand
indigo iris inside a colorless eye,
and burning rose into pale cheeks.

This was permanence, before it was
torn apart by its own user,
in anxious desperation for the
imminent future, which promised
absolutely nothing to her.

And they wondered why she couldn’t
get on with the others.
More to be seen and less to be
heard,
a quiet life to be lived out,
alone; painlessly.
a girl who cannot fathom the external world in relation to society or other people. she cannot make herself perform for the others, which is all they want her to do. she is promised nothing in return, and should only hope for the best outcome in life, but she does not feel the need to make excessive efforts if the outcome is not fixed, or if she should not get anything she wants. she wants more certainty in her future, she doesn’t like the open-endedness of things. she would prefer to live alone in peace than take big risks without knowing whether or not they will pay off
Jakob Feb 2022
this empty cup
with empty wishes
empty dreams all
my unfulfilled visions
thought you were
my future misses
but all I did was shoot
and miss ****,
why didn't I listen
thought my heart
was persistent but
now I hurt and
can't resist it, the
pain don't care
like I do but
won't fix it
she only wants
my attention
when it benefits
her own checklist
guess I'll never be
able to send her
my charms, just
broken hopes
hanging cold
like a rope
necklace.
Jakob Feb 2022
you push
as i pull
we both sway,
you keep hush
so i'd speak
like a fool
as i feel
what i say.
i seen what i love
you only remember
what you hate.
my vacancy
is your fear
to be lonely,
& estranged.
my mind
wanders,
frequently
i'd think of
you daily
inside of
my brain.
a place in
your heart
is my safe
haven that
i desperately
so craved.
although
it was just
a place i was
unwelcomed &
not meant to stay.
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