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Courtney O Mar 2017
Why it took me so long to grow up?
While you were pouring yourself over beds
I was fighting demons with my head...

And if I find myself at a crossroad,
no one to turn to, no man's land
I still have my friend's hand
I still have the heat of those
who never go far
I'll go back...oh no, I will never go back!

I do love you, I do love you
but I cannot fight my life
And your insistence
makes my heart pound
but not in a good way

And if I find myself at a crossroad,
without you, without him,
I don't have time to cry, because, oh,
this is life....

And if I find myself alone again
I've been here before
I've got a crutch, prosthetic legs
I've learnt a lot, that never wanes.

And if I find myself again alone
I won't spend my time in the Tinders of the world.
And if the cloth's about to tear,
let it tear down, tear us down
and go on, go on...

I'm prepared for the worst
and I'm standing strong
Taurus Mar 2017
Never ask for much
But you just kept taking.
My heart kept giving
But my mind knew you were faking
When you said "This will be the last time"
But you kept on taking, hurting, using, burning.
I wanted to believe, wanted to trust you
But "too far" is just one more step toward yearning.
You took so much good, even took some bad from me
But what you left me with felt like a storm-ravaged home
Your inventory of taken things, stolen things, ruined things was huge

But what you forgot to take was my power to write this poem.
Written some time ago when I was remembering a bad period in life.
uzzi obinna Mar 2017
Oh lovely friend of mine,
Where have you been?
I held you all night in my arms,
You were my lovely twin;

Oh lovely friend of mine,
I have found a good place-
A place where we can sit and laugh,
And recall the good old days;

Oh lovely friend of mine,
We dreamt of this place-
A place for which we lived our lives,
But now we've parted ways.
Wesley A Mar 2017
If I should never return
Let your mind turn from grief
And your eyes be dry of tears.
Although it may be hard to understand
Why I am no longer part of your life
I hope you never think.........................
Greta Wocheski Mar 2017
i think you got lost in the realm of our kiss,
a sweet narcotic that swept you off your feet.

- g.w
ali Mar 2017
when we met
i told you
that i liked to spill my insides
all over the paper
and you told me
that you liked to fix things.
take them apart
just to rebuild
and i fell asleep thinking about
if your brows scrunch together
when you are fixing your mother's hard drive
or if your tongue refuses to rest
comfortably in your mouth
when you are focusing.
i never thought that
you would break me apart
and lay out my insides
all over your bedroom floor
just so you could try to fix me up
with tape and glue and whispered sentiments
but by the time i had figured it out
you had already taken my voicebox
placed it under your mattress like
a trophy that you could pull out
and show off to your friends.
but i am not sally and you are not jack skellington
and my skin does not look good
stitched together
with your truest intentions
ali Feb 2017
the truth is you were never satisfied
because all you wanted to do was see me fight
but when you tried to steal my heart
i had already ripped it out of my chest for you
and when you threw words at me like daggers
just to see me cry
i was too lost in your eyes to hear
how much you hated me
softcomponent Feb 2017
take off like the bird you are;
beyond the horizon,
looking toward Port Angeles,
in the cold,
in the night--
the sound of chat and crackling fire
wafting across Dallas Beach
as we use the
on our phones to navigate nature's cragged stairwells,
up and down and up and down;
the relief,
the respite,
came from the snowblind-white patches of
that we would then soon decline and hop to softer sand below.
There's a relief in going uphill when
means you must come down;
tho I think of these remembrances,
spasmodic, fragmented memories of 3 and a half years together
I realize you and I had faced a bigger battle
---one that terrified us both--
as to whether we should
part ways
as if it were perhaps

but there's no relief in an incline like that.
We'd have been walking uphill both ways.    

and now we  are
in the dark
with nothing but the
of our phones

walking uphill
*like we had a choice.
softcomponent Feb 2017
there are times
when the thoughts
float through my head,

of you,

and I picture your face as it glows
but from a place of distance
---like it wasn't
that we ended almost 4 years of love in close proximity
--- instead,
it's been 6 months,
and with some distance on the pain,
rationality has processed all aspects of the break
and twisted the Rubix cube of my life back into its
solid reds, blues, greens, and yellows.

as my concentration slips in the early evening,
this distance is replaced with what feels like a soft,
slow-motion punch
---not just to the gut,
but through the gut,
twisting my intestines into knots of withdrawal,
my eyes drooping from
"why does it feel like I've had a death in the family?"

it's like clockwork;
I have a window to work with
each and every morning,
but by 4 PM if I'm caught mid......
-sentence..... in my....
"A History of the Modern Middle East",
my stomach dropping
global oil prices
in the 1960's
under the tutelage
of the
Saudi King
every word I read bounces off my irises
like they were tennis *****
and I'm playing squash with the pages.
softcomponent Feb 2017
you're not going to read this, and why would you?*

it would be either
of me to expect even so much as a text;
as if our separation implies the ******* of a proverbial
Berlin Wall* between us,
where less than a week ago we were the same *country,

our landscapes of rolling hills,
city skylines,
and forests
so overgrown
that only
of sunlight
could parse the ever-greened canopy,
phasing into one another seamlessly.

We may have been our own provinces,
but aside from small street signs declaring
Welcome to Jen
Welcome to Kyran...
aside from separate cognitive centers of self-government
your shock-blue eyes and fleek eyebrows,
my navy-blue irises and grey,
sunken sockets,
we were a willing confederation of persons,
                                                                ­        and betrayals---

In our past, and provisional separations,
it was your betrayal that pushed us both
into the doldrums of love-lost confusions
and self-hatred;
not that there would be much value
in assigning a blame
with hurt still attached,
because the point,
it seems to me,
was that we somehow made it through everything together.

There wasn't a personal adversity we didn't learn to conquer
---until I began to fade away from you--
lanky, thin, often broke, and depressed,
I retreated.

I cocooned myself in studies of the past and the present;
for some reason, despite my overwhelming love for you,
despite the unspoken commitment I had made
to you
in my head
so long after your second infidelity
when I realized I was finally over it
and that I loved you more than I'd ever loved anyone before
--and in ways I never could have foreseen--

I backed-off,
I fell back,
I disengaged,


I essentially abandoned you.

After your impulsive infidelities,
when you admitted you hadn't been
nor were you in your
"right mind,"
you promised you'd get better.

You saw councilors, therapists, psychiatrists,
and psychologists... and you did.

You really did get better.

You overcame all that had been pulling you so low and so far into the darker vicissitudes of irrationality.

And yet, when it came to my own faults,
inadequacies, and disengagement,
I lacked your courage.

I didn't even try to overcome them.
In my self-imposed screen-gazed solitude,
I often thought of how much I loved you;
of how I hoped you might just wait out my confused disengagement
like I forgave you for your betrayals which had,
in their times,
hollowed me out emotionally for months on end.

The thing is, you wouldn't have blamed me if I'd left you then.
You would have understood, and let me go,
regardless of the heavy pain in your solar plexus
and the hollow feeling in your heart.

Though it never came to that,
I now have the chance to do for you what you'd have done for me.

I don't blame you for leaving.

I understand,
and regardless of this heavy pain in my solar plexus
and the perceptive hollowing of my heart,
I will watch you as you go,
        I will wave,
I will live with the weight of regret and memory,
and remember what you wrote in a poem once
when we parted ways after your first infidelity.

Sitting in the university library, reading on Moses,
what went thru your head was

"closure feels more like i can go on without you, i’m glad i met you, however an emptiness drenched in self-regret will always remain."
(Bu Ert Jordin by Frida Bark--listen while reading for added effect.)
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