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Cedric Feb 2019
‪I see people struggling with what they learned.‬
‪I’ve yet to learn anything.‬
‪My mind just feels empty and blank.‬
‪There’s nothing in it but abstract forms that ellicit vague and varied emotional responses.‬
~
‪Suddenly, without warning, “it” attacks.‬
‪But my apathy would invalidate “it”.‬
‪But “it” stays there.
Waiting until I feel again.
Until “it” re-triggers my emptiness and apathy.
Waiting to be filled only to be spilt and reduced to nothing.
An absence, a darkness, an abyss of unfeeling.
A deprivation of senses as if something has died.
“It” just does what “it” is intended.
At first, apathy dismisses “it”.
But soon, I regain my consciousness.
And “it” subdues my consciousness into apathy.
“It” is an endless cycle.
There’s no other word for “it”.
~
It is just “it”; an entity that lacks words to express, a phenomenon.
An anomaly within me.
I’m tired. Academically drained, lacking passion and dreams. Lacking aspirations, goals, ambitions and motivation. Lacking a future outlook. Trapped in a cycle of an empty mind and a broken body. I don’t feel anything but heaviness. Maybe this is depression? Lapses in memory? Random aches? Hypochondria? “It” swallows me whole.
Matthew Feb 2019
Words said by my ancestors
and to be said by my descendants.

It is all a cycle
in a greater meaning
of nothing

I'm saying words that touched the tongues of many
Are they wise or foolish?
Does it matter?
It will only repeat the cycle
It is all a cycle
Tanay Feb 2019
A few tears rolled down my cheek.
I had been hurt before
But, this time the wound was really deep.

I have never felt this weak.
My world is now upside down
And I cannot sleep.

War is an elusive lover.
Don't fall for its charms
And lose yourself forever.

I have discovered.
Hatred is a vicious cycle
This chaos makes me shiver.

All I want is to see,
A beautiful world
Where no war is fought
Where no soldiers die.











Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2019.
All Rights Reserved
It is just a compilation of thoughts that came to my mind after a recent incident. As usual, this is just a perception and I have kept it simple.
Saint Audrey Feb 2019
It's in obscure recollection
I wonder if it's falsified
Hesitant about the path I can't abandon now
Finding new ways to survive

Bathed in the rays of the sun
Fraught with uncertainty
I wasn't prepared for the atmosphere
Losing my chance to speak

I never had a key
It fell in place
Though I still sleep
I hold to grace
Hoping to recover what's around me

I guess It's still on me
I don't feel the same
Lost in this sleep
I hold to grace
With the colors all around me

But your words
They always bleed through

I'm aware
You think the ways I do

And your words
They always ring true

And your words
They'll always bleed through
Allissa Clifton Feb 2019
Feminine has become a intimate word to me
Something to hide in the ***** drawer locked in the floorboards
Too intimate and innocent  to show to the the worlds
The first chance they get they drop your drawers and say well why would you go and do that? And demand you do; you try to say you won’t.

Why so sensitive?

They want those white ******* so much they crave them
search
       for
            them
                      in the dark
                                      
But mock them in the  daytime
to be sensitive was to be gullible
So why Walt’s in those white petals when the world wears ***** boots
How do you shed those pants for linen loons
The world has shown how it degrades the “dumb blonde” and her worth
To be feminine to be intimate to be innocent to be sensitive to be gullible to be worthless
Growing up I had a hard time time being intimate with other people, I don’t mean the ****** way I mean the feelings that you have the closeness to the other person and the nakedness you have to show your true self. Somehow this got connected to being attached to all the reacurrinng word in this poem. This is also shown in the first couple of words how the a after become isn’t an right before the vowel in intimate, showing the closeness to each vowel and how this is seen as wrong in this sentence.
A Simillacrum Feb 2019
What's there left to say?
Rest the head on knee.
Finger weaving hair,
our eyes on T V.

What's there left to burn?
Cool the heart from heat.
Inhale deep dismay,
then exhale slowly.

Twilight, half lit dark.
Bare to share the beat.
Taste, taking turns,
highest high,
lowest low   ly.

Freckle you with light
brown skin fingertips.
Depart the anxious
rush to ***,
savor sole   ly

to put lip to skin,
to prolong the sin,
to enjoy to no end,
calm, and then
rising action,

****** and
the unwinding.
Wolf Feb 2019
Plunging into
Old habits
Again
Why

Why am I here
Repeating
This once
More

I will never
Escape my
Own heart
Now

I was sober
So tired of
The word
Love

Now I am drunk
Still too young
Falling
Down
Rezium Feb 2019
Create and destroy.
My heart.
My mind.
My soul.
               Yet you couldn't see my scars
I cut my lip,
I held my hands.
Yet you couldnt see the blood pouring out of my vains.

No one cared.
No one's there.
I'm too ******* scared.






And I'm afraid to die.
My morphine is way over.
Dopamine.
More and more.  

Couldn't look up,
Even when he tried to step up.
Enough us enough.

Wrists have been saved
But my hands are damaged.
Lip overflowing with blood,
Ive tried to manage.

Remember these passages...


_ _ _ _
Nothing more to give...
Tanya Feb 2019
A drop
     which falls
                  in the sea,
                              becomes
                                      
              sea.
          〰️〰️〰️
   〰️〰️〰️
         〰️〰️〰️
   〰️〰️〰️
to my Ukrainian friend.
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