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pk tunuri Jul 2018
If someone you once loved the most
Ends up creating problems like a ghost  

Either by developing grudges on you
Or to prove what he/she did is true

Be yourself. You are doing great
Stick to your opinions no matter how much they hate

It is just to make sure you hold back onto him/her
And to Cover up thier mistakes by making them blur

Don't let anyone hurt you
It's not at all worth, the pain you go through
Dean Russell Jul 2018
Weathered eyes
Watching I
Wondering why
Stupefied.
Either the tale is
Wrong
Or, surely! not yet another
Lie?
‘Here within the story lies’
I heard you whisper;
And I just thought you meant
‘You made your bed’
(did i steal your whispers?)
So let’s not deny
The bed,
Another tale yet to be said -
Because another fable
Makes me feel unable
To know knowledge.
Then again.
Then again, Maybe it was never meant for
One.
One plus one isn’t always an equation;
Just separate entities
Together again, are you now an
Enemy?
I don’t know where it came from, yet here it is.
cleann98 Jun 2018
the more I try
to give us color
the more we smudge
and blur altogether
do we need a new canvas?
or a new paint?
or a new artist?
Brandon Conway Jun 2018
A relationship
          Is a lot like
       Collimating binoculars
             It’s time consuming
           It’s difficult
It’s about aligning
                      But in the end
       Often is left even more
Blurred.
I dropped my binoculars last night doing some backyard gazing. It has been knocked out of tune, to fix it is to adjust the objectives to the prism with the eyepiece so that the light beams are parallel. Confusing stuff. I tried and now the view is even worse.
I said I wasn't going to do this anymore, but here I am, doing this.

maybe I wanted
something to dissect
something tangible

I pick you apart
but it's all abstract

pen in the hand
I can draw a line
foot in the sand
I can draw a line

I think of you
and everything blurs
together
Callie Apr 2018
i prefer when
  the lines
     on
        my paper
            become a blur
Aleeza Mar 2018
the thing I hate admitting the most
is that I miss you

a familiar feeling, this I know
residing in the base of my ribcage
pushed down with every breath I take
tucked away in the shadows of everyday
supposed to be forgotten until a more convenient time

but what is a convenient time
when every minute passes like nothing
when days and weeks drag on like eternities
when my waking hours are pockets of time turning up empty

I get stuffed into cars and trains and planes
watching as cities go by like mere blurs in my vision
counting broken streetlamps and closing my eyes against the dawn
drumming my fingertips against my seat
looking over at my sleeping companions
and thinking about how it felt to hear you whisper softly
asking if we’re already there

used to take deep breaths while lowering my shoulders when I’m with you
used to let my laugh resonate in the too-quiet spaces
used to let you know about what I have always hid from the world
used to hold my arms open for you to come into

but now I’d rather not stay too close to you
knowing that my everything will go rigid at the tension I didn’t even know we had
too aware of every word and every sound I make
a longing to go back but understanding that everything  is well in the past

we are adults now, after all
no more of the youth that made us giggle at each other’s shenanigans
talk of dreams isn’t even something we have time for
as we end up worlds away from a home we’ve shared over the years

maybe we can tell them that we tried
what with all the differences that became bricks in the wall between us
knocked on each other’s doors and holding onto a shred of hope that somebody will answer
picked up conversation again and again but knowing it will go nowhere
not the nowhere we used to be lost together in
but the nowhere we now hate

I don’t know how to talk to you
about the hate I feel for myself and how I want to claw my own being out
about the exhaustion that won’t go away with sleep
about old pictures that I can’t even bear to look at without feeling sad
about how much I want to talk to you after all this time

sometimes I’m worried I might forget
the sound of your laugh whenever I try to dance
because all my life I’ve never been great at moving in time to music
how your hands are holding me by the waist and trying to guide me through steps
those eyes I can’t look into anymore sparkling with contentment
the last strains of a song from somewhere enough for us to glide to

or maybe in a few years’ time I won’t remember
the soft but sure way you lean into a hug
arms around me with so much strength and yet the most care
I never knew what fitting perfectly with someone felt like before you
telling me things I can’t quite comprehend through all my tears
and I have so many words, none of which I can say
because how can you understand when even then, right there in your embrace
we were already so far away?

I keep myself up at night to try to run through it all
how we’ve soared and fallen and gotten up again and again
offering arms and hands to steady each other
sharing earphones and nodding to music only we can hear
quiet moments where we both looked down at our laps
our uneven breaths as we walked back with the sun only starting to set

I’d hate to ask for time
when for a while it was me who couldn’t make time for you
making excuses and shutting you out from the chaos of who I was
but I need it now more than ever
with the burden on my spine pushing me down further

no, I don’t want to ask you to carry it with me
for it is mine to bear
all I want is the way you used to hold me as I broke
maybe it won’t put everything back together like it used to
but for now, I don’t need it to

I’d hate to ask for explanations
when I don’t even have one for how I set out on my own without you
drifting from you like the paper boats on floodwater
but I want my heart to be quieted
from the doubts that plague it but have long been ignored

no, I don’t want to ask you to fight to keep this
for it is I who caused the rift
all I want is to hear about how it felt to see me go where it was hard to follow me
all I want is for you to explain why when you told me I was beautiful in a language I couldn’t understand, I still knew
why you keep telling the world I’m someone to be proud of when even I’m not proud of myself

I have come to accept it all, though
watching as your back disappears into the shadows after being bathed in neon
turning to the sea of glitter and flashes and smiles
knowing this was your world too
and choosing to leave it all behind is best
you say there isn’t much of a place left here for you
I keep thinking that your place is with me

but I will go back to the place where we grew together
dance to the songs you forgot to pack with you
let my smile reach the heavens we stared at for too long
watch as everything blurs as I go
knowing that someday, maybe
you will know what place to come home to.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
The world drips down.
One drop at time.
Dragging and blurring
the colors
that marks the edges
that separate all of us.
A drop too heavy,
a drop too light.
And as it splatters
into smaller drops.


My love and my peace
are droplets fallen far apart.
My happiness and my people,
my dreams and my courage,
exist in different planes,
different moments
confusing me
of what I am,
of what should I choose to be.


And there falls another drop
and someone else
also gets to know,
what it means to be undone
and scattered.
And how beautiful it was
that a droplet of your pain
fell on my droplet of love.
How beautiful,
that a new world was colored
in the drops of the one destroyed.
Nayana Nair Mar 2018
I will give you a list houses
that once used to be my home
and addresses that are the only memory
that has not been blurred
or manipulated by my mind.
If you ever want to find me,
go there.


You will see the line of trees that
framed my sunrise
and almost dry riversbeds of
round white stones, where
I slipped once (or more).
You will see the duststorms,
and the heavy rains
I stood in.
You will see the the intersections,
I could never quite cross.
But all this you see,
is not me.



If you want to find the ‘me’,
‘me’ that I do not know of,
that I cannot give you,
go there.
And look for windows I sat by.
Look for the cold floor I lied on.
Sit there and think of a girl
who never felt quite like a person,
who could look at what lay ahead
and know
that neither the path, nor the journey was hers.
Who only wanted a room flooded with
gentle light of drowning sun,
and songs that could make her sadness beautiful.
mikumiku Mar 2018
When the friends are cheaper than the pills
What am I supposed to buy?
When the *** don’t do and horror thrills
Shall I laugh or shall I cry?
When the high lasts longer than a word
Which am I supposed to take?
When the dream is sharp and reason’s blurred
Do I sleep, am I awake?
When the body’s hotter than the heart
Will it keep me warm at night?
When the love hurts better than the dart
Shall I kiss or shall I bite?
When the egos bigger than the deeds
Which am I supposed to praise?
When we cut the wounds and not the weeds
Is it life or just a phase?
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