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Eve Apr 28
You said that my words were bitter
You said my tone sounded harsh
As if I was on a mission to hurt you
As if I'm the villain in this story.

It hurts that you can't see right through me
It really hurts that you look, but you can't see me
I truly thought we were better than this...
I thought we knew each other better than this.

My words may have been bitter and my tone harsh
But it's only because contradiction spells my heart
I want to hate you, eradicate you from my life
I want you to come back to me and love me until I die.

I don't know what to do anymore, I can't ignore you
I can't not see you, to not feel you, to not breathe you.
Obliviate what ruined us? If only you were willing to try.
What do I do? God, why do I pine for someone like you?

If only you could see all these words meant for you
Would you then be able to see me, not think I'm harsh?
Would it make you pity me or give you the courage to try?
to try for this bitter girl who was once just on a mission to love you until the day she dies.

Thomas W Case Mar 27
When the urge
to react to the
tactless clowns,
down looks like
and life's teeth
are sharper than
a steak knife,
and take a
sacred pause
Ken Pepiton Jan 19
Time's were hard, we see,
as we look back and wonder, asking
is asking who knew, or knows,
at the ha,
a breath acclaiming exhaled, huff.
I know. It acts as if, I am the prey, in quest…

Of course, in slow, out burst… ah wit' ha a aitch
witches silence, 'ear ye, 'ear ye,
order in the court,
the open court before the temple,

gather, all ye hinderers and holder-backs, rally
round the banner over us,
which is love of duty to God and Country,

¿Eh, little man, dis tinctual intel, confi, semper set,
semper fi, do or die, or do and die, why
is not a factor,
or luck is not a factor, time and chance, dance…

dance with this wondering mind, wishing to be
of some significance, when plopped
on the scale,
for what it is worth,
for the cost
to fit the three strand thread
from Delphi riddles writ
in Greek et Ebersprachen Proverbs
from the very early days,
collected fragments
of ever ago, cetera

as far as ships had sailed, we know, now
we have sailed farther,
we have flown, as far as our perception may
hold the experience,
as power we may use, if we choose, buy a ticket,
wait in line…

read one hundred and forty seven maxims,
think three missing, for I was told to find
one hundred and fifty pre-positioning
glyphs, single sign, single signal, taken

as given, one will to wonder, one to wonder why.

I am at the moment Qwerty Guy, qwertying code,
in clear text,
through sieves witches were known, to use,
by King James, the first, of England,
who wrote the book on sorting
witches from his loyal servants,

all sworn to alliegiance,
to the king of two kingdoms, all stand,

Come to order, let the judgement begin…
in this worlds interpretation,
of ἐγγύα πάρα δ'ἄτα
- Swear not at all… Certainty makes madness
after we recall, there needs be order, must be
in the court,
where each man, wombed or un, and possibly,
old or young, or, better said,
old from young, must judge the angels
we each trust to always see things our way
- draw the right vectors, from my POV
- Graphic communication demo
Cartesian, belling thing, seen on two dimensions,
to and from, but here
the point
the readers perceptivity
to the precept set in ifery was,
so quite long ago we lost our grip,

holding, holding, holding that thought,
we thought, a chapter or so ago, you know
we thought,
was a thinkable thing, and we thought it.

------------- Proud of it, too.
Dis, take it
Easy, you are privileged, legated privacy
for knowing what may be known,
in the realm of all you may ever know.

Gnostic mystic alien ties
religamental truth coded moral worth,
stores of stories studied in hope,
choking on the dust, those missing,
the bringers of peace,
the releasers of the knowing to the chosen,
those selected by childish preferences,
to become the model image
of good done right,
as natural as
sneezing whole armys into being,
after sowing dragon's teeth for years.
All we agree, we may imagine, making up

Messengers from former days,
telling us to mend our ways,
no, telling us, to get a grip.
Oracles or angels, or mass hysteria,
none portrayed as boogermen and witches,
wrinkled hags and fatphag priests in shades.
At you, we see the dust blown.
A series of sneezes axon-triggering,
deep anti-histamine relief reaction, coming on,

must be something in the wind,
must be my body, reacting, doing what must
be done,
or I shall die, or I shall die, each sneeze,
from within me cries,
no, from inside,
we whisper, prepare, to not spray snot,
in civilized mindspacetime patterning arrays.
Ah, this feels fine, okeh, let life work wonders in the dark.
With the hustling of leaves falling onto the ground and my hands used to the cold weather of Maple Street, the same sky where little strange souls like us meet—under the waves of clouds thickening our sight and our smiles splattered all over the place—remains.

I stirred my coffee, and you drank your now-cold chocolate drink. Your eyes carry the burdens of the stars and gravitate towards mine—I have been awake and alleviating the presence of old souls surrounding us, and I broke down. You embraced me like the classic song you are.

A lighthouse guarding travelers attempting to overcome the sea, I caught your hand and pressed it closer to my chest. Doors opened, unfolding a new chapter for us to climb higher than usual, and you looked at me like I used to look at you in pictures I keep for myself—lulling this young, brave soul to sleep in dull hours where you softly snore in a damp bed while the moon speaks in a softer tone to let you close your weary eyes and darkness begins to unfold within.

Sometimes it makes it harder to breathe the very same air you inhale—and these two young hearts live in another world, closer to home, and you held me, finally, the anchor I once dreamed of, and now your presence I could see—your skin I could be comfortable with.
wrote this for you, my love.
Moe Dec 2022
it feels as if everything
needs to be done all at once
watching all your fallen words
while you become a ghost in my presence
a subtle trembling “I'm not ready”
unable to breathe you in
you needing time & space
feeling like any other given reason
strung out to dry
will make you fall further behind
lua Oct 2022
the meadow watches me
eyes hidden in flower buds
while i run through the tall grass
chasing after a ghost
its blurry form shifting colours
like the sunset and sunrise
sweat drips
down my cheeks
maybe i'm crying
i can't tell, really
i just know that
my lungs breathe clean air
for the very first time.
Eve Jul 2022
I swear it, I'm not suicidal or anything,
But do you know how hard it is to breathe,
It's so hard that I just wished that I stopped.

Mahati Jul 2022
I've been seeing nightmares in my sleep
tryna stay awake so i wouldn't dream
i can feel the demons following me
tryna push me when i cross the streets
it's getting way harder for me to breathe
knowing that your putting curses on me
you're not even here but you're killing me
you're not even here but i can hear you breathe
are you gonna stay with me or will you leave
i can't get over the anxiety
who are you to walk all over me
who are you to stop me from reaching my dreams
you said you're the devil on my shoulder
but you're just a lover turned to enemy
i don't want to be running i want to be free
i don't want to be reminding myself how to breathe
just let me go let me be
just let me go and let me heal
i'm not a robot for you to control
i'm not a toy you make up stories about
i'm just a human who likes to love
you're too sad you have to hide your truths
Cara Anne Mar 2022
I have spent my whole life attempting to find the sun.
So, that I may have a source of light,
In this dark tunnel that I inhabit,
Which is defined as my life.
But it was not until I halted my journey that I realized,
The world's brightest stars need darkness to shine.
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