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Natalie Sep 18
we’re on the side of the cliff right now
you and i
one of us is about to jump and create a forever distance between us
i used to think you would be the one leaving me on the edge of the cliff at the end
but the constant drama, bad talking and hurt that you’ve intentionally caused has not just guided me over the edge
but pushed me over the edge
I fought so hard for you
I wanted to fix things with you
But my arms are getting tired
My fingers are starting to ache
I can’t hang around for much longer
I’m exhausted
I’m ready to let go
I’m letting go.
Lately I haven't been communicating well. I'm stuck in a abyss with no one but me. It seeps down the edge of my field of vision. Engulfing me so the light can't illuminate me. I am left alone with claws and only my skin to rend. Left alone with my fangs and only my flesh to mutilate. Left alone with sharp things and dull connotation. My toxic thought process has flayed away all of the normal. All I see is what must be ripped asunder. All I feel is the joy of another's pain. All I am is what I have hidden. Step inside to see just how bad I can hurt you.
Tony Tweedy Sep 9
I write not for my arts sake...
I write for my hearts ache...

I write not to remind myself...
I write to re-mind myself...
I perform my own exorcisms through my keyboard
Navila Aug 8
Clarity
pierces through
my darkness,
my trembling despair,
to the place
where madness
razes
my inner landscape,
kneading my insides
tender.

The eye,
inside,
dilates and dispels
the concrete duplicity
of my ersatz assurance,
in the carrot-dangled
reality
of another’s false promise.

Its act of finality
renders me raw,
imbued with hope,
free
to bask
inside the light
of my own
being.
Face your fears.  Face your tears.  Face your future.  Face your years.
Face your heart aches.  Face your pain.  Face the trauma you've faced again.
Facebook.  FaceTime. Face-to-Face.  Oh the places you will go when you satisfy a face.
If only I could be in the field with Rumi, with my soul in the grass.
I'll be there very soon.  I just removed my face-mask.
By:  Thrystan Tate
m Jul 26
And so I turned my poems
Into a hot air balloon
And held on until the clouds
Were suffocating,
Until like ants you disappeared
Into the earth.
The oxygen eventually depleted
And while choking for air
I grasped still to these words,
These fleeting moments of
Clarity,
Until darkness consumed me
At last
Carl D'Souza Jul 25
When the world feels
like one big maze
full of twists and turns
and mostly dead ends,
I take  time-out
to do philosophy
which clarifies
my emotions and thoughts
and progresses my mind
towards the wisdom
I need to improve my situation
to increase my joy and happiness.
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