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Johnnyqu33r Jun 13
Several deep breaths
Exhale slow and smooth
To find the center
To find you

Saddest eyes I've ever seen
I made them twinkle and
I made them gleam
To find you

Several deep breaths
Exhale softly sigh
You were the spider
I was the fly
Dark Dream May 21
You lit the match
Now you can’t Control the inferno
You have awoken the fire
Scaring away your dominance
Your now lack of control
You will never Have control until
You learn that chaos is in control
That the unexpected happens And
You will lose
Then you might gain a sliver of control
If it’s given
You might grasp control Over yourself
Your reactions
What will be Surprising for you to realize
It’s so easy to control you
A few words from me
Your ******* just left you
Bye bye control
I just strung you along this whole time
What you thought you knew
Was exactly how I wanted you to react
The design you wove gave me the ammunition
Before you said a word
Left To Rot May 10
I trusted a burglar,
she broke into my carefully organized mind
took everything out of it's place and stole my peace.
I'd give you a discription
but she's out of this world,
all I can say is she had red curls and magic green eyes.
This emptiness,
This silence;
Will they ever go away?
Make it go away, I pray.

Is it okay to miss the chaos?
Is it okay to miss the uncontrollable thoughts?
Even the ones that I once badly fought.

Emptiness overcame me;
Mental shutdown was real,
It has made me numb;
where I cannot feel,
my breakdown.

My mind plays a series of images,
The moments we could've had,
The life we could've had.

The music I listen to
have been my only guide;
My therapist in need,
While I decide.

Where is home.
Raven Feels Apr 26
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I stopped for a glare--then regretted the unfair:)

up on high

still feels they glide

inflicted on the mind

no fear no mercy in the blinding neon stinging light

already alone summoned my end

no upon that seat I nursed I wish to bend

look for far in the eyes that chaotic that ray

a crowd I leave in its uneven may

on my finger tip

a better fate for them to sit

A quicksand cyclones downward at the center,
A spiraling hole spun around by the sands that enter,
They scratch at the innards of my heart,
Pulling everything down and ripping it apart,

I’ve tossed so many things at it,
But they just drop into this endless pit,
Nothing seems to fill it up,
Instead everything just gets ****** up,

It’s like having my flesh sliced by scattered grains,
Spun at high velocity as it sheers against my veins,
Carving out tiny wounds accumulate into scars,
Blood seeping, lost and disappearing with its cause,

Cries are ****** up and then dispersed,
Scattered into pieces until it’s no longer heard,
Screams are silenced by a ringing vacuum,
Run through bleeding veins buried in my womb,

It’s like something wants to come up,
Like a volcano that’s ready to erupt,
Everything that’s been sunk and saturated full,
It’s getting ready to finally burst my soul,

I didn’t want to shut it all up,
It wasn’t my choice to have it all ****** up,
I tried so hard to pull it out with my strength,
But I underestimated the length of my pain,

It’s been loaded and treated with all its vice,
So I don’t know how to clean it up nice,
I think my exterior is too thick for it to ever explode,
But I think that one day, I am going to implode.
Martin Boško Apr 12
Hear the Eagle's painful screech
While those with delusions preach
Poisonous tears of rage and sadness
Spineless bow to feed their Madness
Ants drowning in the Sea of Lies
While laughing vultures from East arrive
The Eagle longingly looks towards the heavens
The Eyes intently stare at sheep armed with AK47s
A spectacular clash of two camps with strong will
The Flawed Experiment of a Shining city upon a Hill
Written November 6, 2020 in the chaos before US election results were called
Duckie Apr 10
Putrid smells of dirtied innocence,
A veil of eager stupidity,
Misfortune converts to violence,
Roots caged by the ashes
Of what once was,
My hometown of resilience- staled,
Replaced with glory seekers
Spewing words void of value,
Pickets of dishonesty,
Weekends of gloom,
I feel foolish as I reside here,
Bleeding within the garden of thorns,
Punctured by the claw of the bird.
Zoe Mei Apr 9
not much more
than a metaphor
as a butterfly flap
is a windstorm.
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