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Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
We were once better together
When we were madly in love
All we have are broken dreams
Memories of what this once was

At night visit photo reels
Happiness left in the past
I was a citizen of your world
Instead of immigrant trespassed

Toss and turn in twisted torn sheets
Up late because I can
Don't sleep next to eachother
Holding grudges with gentle hands

We used to share same mattress
And blankets as well
Awake to face every morning
No reason to argue or yell

Into memories I retreat
With no success
Sound of your laughter a mocking song
And half-hearted at best

The day we promised to always be
Friends no matter what
Forever lingers on my heart
Perfectly etched with sharp cuts

The way you looked at me stayed different
Tone of your voice when you'd say my name
From touch to your kiss to everything in between
Only blue eyes remained the same

Our soft skin no longer free of marks
Nowhere near as fit
Smiles on rosy cheeks
Naive and unaware of the coming *******

Back then conversation was not forced
Felt comfortable baring our hearts
These days hardly speak to eachother
Were much happier at the start

And darkness fuels nostalgia
Resurfaces in its daily routine
Screaming when exactly and where along the way
Did you start forcing what you mean?

I miss the couple we were
Passion without the pain
When your heart was still golden
I wasn't half-insane

Hours and minutes spent in a hurry
And cigarette packs
Problems that seemed so significant
Give anything to have all of that back
Written 1-23-19
faith Jul 2017
i can't make myself happy
when i can't get off this chair
too anxious to stop crying
silently hating my stare

my face is so ****** ugly
i'm shaking, i'm trying to stop
nothing could ever console me
this dark and familiar spot

depression that grabs me is all too familiar
i'm crippled and tired, too tired to care

a few pills will save me from cutting my body
again and again i'll make myself sleep
it's always been there, this darkness and crying
but now i know that it's better to sleep

because it escalates to rage and seeing spots
and punching holes in the wall and filling holes from inside with
alcohol and cigarettes and petting my pride

my egotistical mind that thinks that if i look good
at least i have that, and that's one thing i have

so i spend hours in front of the mirror painting my face and doing my hair and ******* hating my face, my ****** stare

if i look long enough i see myself change and no longer am i fragile, i'm filling that space
where i can't hurt i  just harm and push everyone away
it's harder to ache and to look at my face
than it is to get cold and harder to touch and harder to shove

and i can't replace my face with anyone else's
so i better make it perfect
keep on going and try to calm down
keep myself busy and play music loud

so typical.
it's a cycle.
i'm trying.
still breathing.
7 - 20 - 17
Tøast Jun 2017
I want to travel to far off places.
Sit in coffee bars writing notes,

I want to go to Paris,
Walk along the river
And feed foreign ducks
Foreign bread,

Smoking cigarettes and watching the sunset, as it kills the day. A romantic display of a brutal ******.
A poets stupid love for foreign places and romance and coffee.
He felt immersed in the thought of a woman cigarettes and designer clothes
But I'd rather feel immersed in the thought of the smell of cherry blossom perfume and a video game controller in her hands
Call me what you want
Just aspiring for something different
Everything feels like the same old archetype you see in English class
If you payed attention
I know some of us didn't
It's okay
I slept in mine
Because we hardly did anything in there
Talk about false advertisement
If you thought my life ****** before, you're sadly mistaken
Instead of entrenching ourselves with tons of books
We did a little work and took breaks in our work like Clay Aiken
Bouncing into something new only a few times
Now what i expected
I just wanted to be those happy kids in those school commercials
Was that so hard to ask for?
Literature and good friends
You don't even know the first thing of elation like i do when i put those two together.
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
Two inconnu sheathed within sight of one moon
Betwixt embers'and uppers consumed by whom
Two nocturnal allies have each exhumed
By Caffeine and Adderall's swindling tomb
And Nicotine's cluches; an imbibing room

He can't spell    
I can't speak    
None bespeak    

He's got canines and relatives
To replete empty spots
Whilst a book full of lies
Keeps my soul ersatz.
So, too soon or too late
I will resume
And instigate
This nighttime bloom

For Phil Roberts

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
Francie Lynch Aug 2015
We met on a sun-sand beach,
You asked for a pull
On my ciggarette,
So many decades have passed,
I can't forget
You pulling on my ciggarette.
A memory photo.
Marissa Jul 2014
The warm ache of *****
Touches my stomach with soft
Hands and all i can think
Is why
and the tickle in my throat
From nicotine's playful kiss
Makes me sicker than before
Woozy and exhausted
I cry to myself
And wonder why you're far
Gone from me
Loneliness caresses my face
With hot tears
While I panic
And want to die
In the place that doesn't feel like home

— The End —