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Emptier than space
Emotions flickering on and off
Like the trillion stars that
Are kept looking alive
Even though we know
They exploded a couple light years ago
Empty; like a bottle of Hennessy
that everyone has taken a sip of
Should I go and try to fill it with glitter
Or water and some freshly cut flowers?
But I feel out of place
Though everyone comes and takes a sniff
No one asks where the real me go
And I have no other purpose
But to be forgotten as people
Move and go with the flow.
Where’d the real me go? ©️2021 Jana Pelzom

I don’t really know what I’m writing, but I do know that I’m getting a little damp again so I did what I could to try and push it off my chest. We can’t afford therapists so we do second best, right?

P.S If any one of y’all reading this have mental health issues, I hope you win.
Stygian 2d
So I guess this is it huh?
After all the love bombing and fake feelings you’re finally ready to move on
You’re ready to remember what it felt like when I didn’t exist.
You’re excited to feel warmth in a new place.
Because everything turned cold here.
You made it this way though.
You turned off your feelings.
Maybe you didn’t even have any.
Maybe I built a false persona of you in my head that was genuinely interested in me.
I must be crazy to think all that time I spent investing in you, you were only pretending to like what I was saying.
Like what I was giving to you.
I didn’t ask you for anything.
I barely reached for a hand.
But yet again I’ll switch my feelings back to nothing and pretend like you never even stopped by.
Cause it’s that easy right?
I’m not that interesting to remember.
I’m not that hard to forget.
You must have found someone better.
So I’ll pretend we ever met.
D CoLe Jun 3
I am a worrier ,one of light
playing with stone and might
   in life's cradle,
in a jungle of emotions with only but my pride to cuddle.
I strike with my halo,
to darkness saying hello.

    Have never give'n to the   'bliss' he bestows on seekers,
but the feeling is no longer as good.
My heart whispers the secret garden to my my mind,
and I wonder what's like to given to the temptation.
Mortal  to our own thoughts and broken by the eyes of the world,  tread softly because oh, the earth is delicate and quite selfish with its secrets
I like to-
Poison my tea
To remember to breath
Shallow as the sun
Setting under the sea

I like to-
Put my hand to the fire
Just to beg for the cold
If I ever grow tired
I'll still be a fool

I like to-
Step barefoot through glass
Just to feel the blood flow
If it heals for a while
I'll make trails in the snow

I like to-
Cut deep,
Dig for the bone
If I find it and pull
Will I feel alone

I like to-
Drag it out,
Suffer real sweet
Its a sickness inside
And it runs so deep

I like to-
Hold my breath,
A belt on my throat
I tied it so tight
So i left you this note
Leifa May 31
I woke up one night
And I cried:
"Papa, I don't want to die!"

It is so sad when I look
To that child of the past-
Long forgotten and still
He weeps.

I am but a feigned rendition
of the boy inhabiting this soul.

We are so different
As oil upon water.
Yet how can I say
I was never him?

As now nothing
Seems more sweet.

That delicate snowflake
Fell into streams
Long spent, and yet
I sent for him.

Little did he know
His ending was not in death.
But he cannot be found.
Silent is the child's cry.
Brett May 29
I don’t know who I would be, without the darker side of my personality.

The painted desert of night allows me to explore the eternal moonlit forest of my life.

The beating compass of my heart, points in no particular direction.

I pace my steps on its rhythm, though the deeper I venture, the less I can rely on its repetition.

Neatly trimmed hedges devolve into bogs, witches to the west, sirens sing to me through the midnight fog.

The road less traveled stained with blood, a path beaten with hurried footsteps and battered love.

I take to the tress; beneath the wind-strained leaves, the monsters are now stalked by me.

Demons by day evade my pleas. Now, stuck in a dream, they can’t leave.
Nylee May 29
Why does the moon keep on hiding their dark side,
Am I turning into just like you,
reflecting the bright and hiding in the dark night.
Brett May 29
Sometimes I forget to breath
A nagging voice, gnawing at my sleeve
My demons,
          at the gates they seethe
Begging for me to set them free
Darkness beckons me,
           with its ecstasy
Clawing from the inside, but
Outside I crack and wither
Like these scars are all that’s left of me

Picture perfect portrait of paranoia
Sunken eyes
My inner voice has distorted
Causing me to toss and turn,
and become contorted
Foreign is my reflection
The Dark Man has trapped me
With his apathy
I let him in
Depression wins
A journey into the dark. The core of my abilities is in my courage to converse with the darkness. An eternal struggle
Ziploc May 28
Soft, a damp; an umber forest. a mossy way.
rain; wet trickled dirt. distant ravens.
boots; crispy ferns. snapping twigs.
just breathe; a deep gray whisper, the irresistible scent of fern.
falling back into the dark musty bristle of a bear, quickly being submerged by deep grey, smokey clouds.
Look up, in the feathery pines - a flying squirrel! his eyes, lips, and spirit all at once smile saying,

"hi. little duck,"
Just a little thing I wrote a while back... makes me feel good
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