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Sarah Jones Dec 2014
Hanging with friends,
Feeling sinks it.
It creeps then consumes.
Fake a laugh,
Give a smile.
They don’t need you.
They don’t want you.
You’ve seen it before.
Being with you is a chore.
Roisin Sullivan Oct 2014
Cry for me,
And let your tears
Burn a river down your cheeks.

Sing for me,
And let your tongue
Choke all your insolent lies.

Dance for me,
And let your feet
Carry you to my own Hell.

Come on now;
Be my puppet
And move to my directions.

What was that?
You are tired?
How the **** d'you think I feel?

Don't you know
That loving you
Isn't so easy anymore?
E.S.
Andrew Durst Apr 2014
I never asked
for anyone to
bend over
backwards
or make sure
that I was okay.

I never asked
for the creaking
floorboards that
keep me awake
as I toss and turn
at night.

I never
wanted to be
stricken by the
fear that I can
never let go.

But I will.

Because I
never wanted
to hold on
in the first
place
and I never
wanted
a reason to
complain.

I never asked to
    be drunk;
    I planned
    on it.

The moonlight
shining in from
my fourth story
window
is fading
from the rim
of my glass,
so I can't
see what exactly
lies in front of me.

Making my way to
the bed so I can
rest once again
has become more
of a chore than
a peaceful thought.
Inspired by Bukowski.
Just that kind of day.

— The End —