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I'm desperately worried that I'm ruined.
She is young, and me too
We share our love in a bed
Talking about what if we live together
Talking about what if the world ends forever
And does our love still stand in the damaged heart?
She is young, with beautiful eyes, thin lips, a very cute smile,
and her long hair fall on my legs
She does not care about me but she really cares about myself
I talk about many plans after doing a beautiful thing
She talks to me that it is impossible
I ask her to stay in a long time for me but not for myself
I get many things to do before letting her go
But sometimes she decides to go without telling me before
She is young, and me too
So I write her in really true
I miss the way she loves me but not in herself
Indonesia, 14th March 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
ShyAnne Mar 5
You
Suddenly nothing else mattered
You were there
Your charm and humor
Suddenly I was ok
I used to watch as they walked all over me
Now I realize
I don’t deserve to be used
I am worth sacrifice
You give me your time
You call me yours
You aren’t ashamed
To be seen with me
To hold me
Out in the open
You stand up for me
When they stare and laugh
I feel safe next to you
I don’t know how long this will last
But I have issues and I have to ask
That you don’t use them against me
I don’t wanna jump all over you
But please don’t use it against me
I hope you see
I’m just scared
Hurt by way to many
I trust you
Don’t abuse that
I love you
Please don’t try to use that
My wrists are healed
I don’t want to reopen it
You fixed me
If you ever wanna leave
Let me down easy
I’m sorry if this scares you
I don’t wanna hurt you
I just want you to know what you’re getting into
Because what happens
When hands get put on me
More than you know
This is a warning
A boy I used to love... a boy I gave my all to... a boy who broke all of his promises to me.
SomeOneElse Feb 20
Am I broken or defective
Nothing seems to be effective
Wish I could be good enough
But instead I feel rebuffed
Lost and lonely broken hearted
Laying here a tortured artist
Longing to be loved and held
This loneliness to be dispelled
A poem on loneliness and rejection
Skye Jan 24
I’m made of rubber
Worn thin over time                        
Used over and over                                            
again.                                                                              
          
My heart is elastic,                                                                                    
It snaps back into                                                                      
Place, but it breaks                                                
When your blade gets                
Too sharp.

I feel like a balloon,
Floating some days                                                      
Then punctured on            
others.                                              

Mend me,                                                              
Breathe me                                
Back to life…
©Skye
IMCQ Jan 3
I am an open journal.
With a lock long lost.
My pages, riddled with ink,
Lay exposed.
Wandering eyes waver from page to page.
Taking in the tales of lost loves.
Cheering for the stories of triumph.
Learning from listed lessons.
Come all who wish to witness,
Stories of me.
Stories we wrote.

A cover so unassuming.
How to even judge,
Something with so little to show for.
Title-less, addressed to no one.
The grooves and creases,
Spread across the binding.
Worn.
Lived.
Better days,
A distant memory.
Be gentler than those who payed no mind.

Pages that lay uneven.
Torn asunder,
Blacked out or burned
Many, left untouched. 
In places, the ink
has bled through.
Some made to be beautiful.
Others, defiled.
These pages, all precious.
Even the pages
I'd like to forget.

Sable seas of ink,
Flow onto parchment.
Bringing life to desolate pages.
With it
The tellings that brought this book to you.
The lies.
The hurt.
The truth.
The remedy.
A reminder to be weary of people,
The exalted who hold the pen above you.

There will come a time
When this book is shut,
Shelved for the last time.
Yet, these stories can drift on the wind.
From lips to ears.
From old to young.
The life I lived.
The Stories,
We wrote them.
My world within paper.
Am I the book, or the stories that began on those pages.
There was gold within me.
You only had to break my heart.
T R H Dec 2020
All my strength is gone
I can't fake it anymore
I'm not strong
I'm not resilient
I'm weak, broken
Damaged, alone
I'm too tired to fight
So I just let them in
Let my thoughts win
And I'm so grateful for these masks
So I don't have to wear mine
No forced smile to hide behind
And if you see it in my eyes
It's so much easier now
To say "I'm just tired,
But yeah I'm fine".
Tucked behind the golden locks,
that cascaded down her face
Were the footprints of dancing sunbeams,
that left freckles in their trace

And a pair of vibrant green eyes,
that flowed like twin creeks
Showed that she had been broken,
as they flooded her cheeks

Shattered by a voice, from which,
she could never break free
And he whispered in her ears,
just like the buzzing bee

His voice was rough,
and his every word stung
Much like the devil himself,
he bore a forked tongue

He made her believe, that she,
would never be enough
And he insisted on making,
every day tough

He told her she was damaged,
unwanted and broken
Like a loose seam, she came undone,
with every word spoken

Her glossy green eyes,
behind luscious locks of gold
Fought an unfair war, against the lies,
her anxious mind told
The voice of my anxiety
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