"I hate you now as much as I will ever hate you."
Our fingers laced with strained prose and my blooming heart.
There's only so many ways to tell you this without us both realizing we might have not yet learned our lesson.

The truth is, there's no way for me to know how much this really hurts. I've cast myself numb to the touches of future lovers and to be honest I've said too many times that I would cast this out of my mind but, baby, if you loved me, would you leave me?
Could we bury this romance in a candlelight processional and a chorus of holy reverence, how long could we hold each other till our arms crumbled to dust under the six feet of people we once were?
Would our kisses turn to ash so close to new flames we might light?... could either of us stand the flames?
We'll be okay, I know in time this too shall fade but once, I had high hopes. Once I was left confused crying to a plane window and you couldn't tell me anything to ease the chaos in my mind. Why would you offer yourself to me like that if you didn't want me too?
I'm so stressed, pressing on for answers but, maybe there's nothing to find.
I'll move forward.
One day.
I couldn't 'hate' you more.
Gray 1d
I just cannot stand confrontation.
It’s simply the worst possible frustration.

Nothing can escape the spiteful comments that people thoughtlessly threw aside.
Might as well call it the friendship suicide.

All this yelling gets me feeling so worn out and tired.
Leading to me being uninspired.

I end up losing all forms of motivation,
And rather stay hidden completely in isolation.

Why would i want to stick around and listen to my friends argue?
It would be toxic to absorb in that painfully dark hue.

I would rather be alone than experience anymore confrontation,
After all I believe it to be one of the worst traits of any given conversation.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we all just get along?
Why keep contributing to making everything go so horribly wrong?
The conflict of new paths,
And perspectives...
Is that they all lead to the foreign
Whether good or bad.
And more often than not,
Predicting the outcomes is impossible.

What if I'm striving in vain?
If I'm afraid of death and endings,
Then why can't I be afraid of pain?

Sans endless
When the ending is decided...
Brief thoughts
Kush 7d
These sonnets, these sonnets
These words would never end
This love this melody
This lilt shall remain a friend
this passion this hope
this need; lives it transcends

I keep writing making silly rhymes. Words fall, bend, blend in an array of meaningless thoughts. Love contend with ache: Heart content with brain. My soul, unable to comprehend, lets out a sigh. Unintended it amends and wends my beilefs. My boat ascends foreword. My heart pretends normal. Away from the condescending colleagues, I head to in the direction of dreams. At a distance, I see her waving, and I look down on my hand, engraved a name: she owns. My palm distends and announces an arrival. I pretend this will be final. A call from the wild invokes my mild intentions to tell her the truth and hope this won't be vital.
Tom Stodulka Jun 12
Arguments, anger, frustration.

Conflict, mediation, meditation.

Today it’s all about our cortex, our right brain, your left brain.

Our amygdala, your feminine side, someone’s masculine side.

Maybe even the bright side.

Who is right, who is wrong.

Onwards, backwards, forwards,

Glass half full, too often these days the glass is empty.

Relationships are strained, pressures too great.

The pot boils over and over.

A fire burns into the very soul. Too much gets destroyed. The damage is done.

Things are certainly inflamed as people are enraged and anger reins.

How are you travelling?

What are your goals?

Common sense, like Paradise, lost.

Love is lost and sometimes re-found if good fortune favours you and maybe the brave.

Children suffer; best interests I hear you say.

But does anyone really understand?

For too many it is all about me, me, me.

Sadly, it is all about agendas and egos, it is all about me, me, me.
From 'Storm Clouds & Silver Linings; My Journey' by Tom Stodulka.
She said she wasn't
B r o k e n

but her mind is in
P i e c e s

and her heart is
B l e e d i n g

because of the
S h a r p
E d g e s
We think she is fine, but in her eyes it's otherwise
Samantha Jun 8
People are like bubbles
Bottled up with troubles
Protected by a little container
Until they come face to face with their struggles
When they face their struggles  
Their bubble may crumble
This causes people to stumble
Stumble upon their troubles
They have a choice to pop
Or think non stop
They shouldn’t give up
Not until they float to the top
I've got to give President Donald Trump
Credit for one thing.
He has succeeded
In opening up a lot of old wounds....
A lot of old bitterness.
These are conflicts
That were never fully resolved in the past.
President Donald Trump
Has helped us
Become aware of This.
Late in the evening we chew over
     how to foil dilemmas and conflicts

Does resolution come from
     defending my ground

Or by being sure I establish
     your guilt

Is life like a court
     of law

Or a platform for

The answer may be
     far afield

In an arena where shared
     feelings and misperceptions
     trump facts

Where love is honest enough to yield
     a renewed commitment
Avery Glows May 22
I love the taste of fire and ashes,
even the pungent sting of burnt charcoal.
Decaying in gasoline.
Because they were remnants once,
of who I was.
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