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Yemaya Apr 28
is but a frame,
one that leads to places you cannot be
hanging them above you--
but just to see.
the window is my enemy.
Deep Apr 18
I loved you more that day
When I said,
"I love you",
After it, day by day,
Moment by moment,
love slackened in scale.
maria Dec 2021
I want a boyfriend
to take my breath
to make me feel
to keep me warm
to kiss me to sleep
Let me reborn
I keep messing
with the wrong ones
I'm tired
and bored
Written on December 13, 2021
© ,Maria
Madeleine Nov 2021
When you ask me what I am doing
If am bored
Or doing nothing
My response to you will be
A A Oct 2021
Sunlight beats in through the window
offensive and obscene.
I wonder what ungodly sound just awoke me,
was it only the alarm, or
was it the deafening sound of my conscious
that so disturbed me?
Upon waking, one has to ignore the weight of existence
Or drown in it's wake.
Sleep, running away from me, abandoning me,
Has led me here to this moment.
Rising out of bed, reborn from the night,
for the millionth time, and still
always questioning everything.
"What has my life brought me to,
that I must continue to wake for it,
and why is it more worthy than sleep?
Is participation in life truly necessary?
Why does each day bring with it the same
repetition I've always known?"
Sun rays never speak, never answer
The questions that morning brings.
Spike Harper Aug 2021
Things come and go.
Like people I suppose.
We play games to pass the time.
Roll dice on gambles.
Take chances with our lives.
Only there is no collecting when coming full circle.
That's called a mistake.
So we jump to other boards.
Hoping we aren't sorry.
Realizing there is no perfection.
Trying to balance every risk.
Like we ever had a clue.
Some try so hard.
While others scoff at effort.
What is the right combo that will lead to the end game.
It's like an ever changing rubix cube.
So many patterns to memorize.
But doing the same thing.
And over.
Is that living.
Or insanity.
Whatever it's called.
One thing is certain.
We shall never get bored.
Playing with our demons.
Dilshey Aug 2021
This foggy mind,
where the mist won't cease
Opaque clouds drift
to my thoughts - the breeze
intentions unclear,
abandoned with slight fear
passions muted -
purpose is queer.
White page lies blank
Black ink is drained
the brain's an asylum
neither insane nor sane
Is this the Kingdom of Boredom?
for all empty souls & crumpled blanks
Please reach thy vibrant hands into the dump
with the glimmers of galaxies in your eyes
& drag me out of this living slump.
In a phase of feeling blank
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