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Alex Aug 2020
Pink cherry blossoms fall like shedding tears
Gently caressing the earth as they land.
To me, it's just decay like rotting flesh
Of one once loved. Just bones and putrid smells

Idle conversation falling upon your tongue
As your bright eyes exclaim more than words could.
These words die out soon enough and I
Never cared for the company of beauty;
I am but a misshapen wretch beside you

Oh! Friend, lover, fiend and vagrant - sorry,
But I reject it all. My heart closes
Like a fist and all we were fades like
The stones at the foot of Ramses, devoid
Of what we once were; more ghosts than people.

Snows and skies of laughter slowly diminish,
I replace them with silence and apathy.
Soon I forget what was so funny
Nor do I particularly care.
Carlo C Gomez Aug 2020
The space between.

A time to sell yourself.

A time for passing.

Sometimes I touch the right.

Too much, the wrong.

Resplendent deterioration
we live by.

With casuistic slogans
and closing doors.

D'you know disembarkment
leads to land sickness?

It does.

And who can then make
heads or tails out of
the qualms of tolerance
and his cousin, ignorance?
Amanda Hawk Jul 2020
Quite simply
I don’t care
lingering here
I stay, not listening
watching the world fall
I wear apathy nicely
it hangs right upon shoulders
and let the day build up
piling up around me
enjoy a cigarette
as I watch everything decay
Kat Schaefer Jun 2020
Some people carry sorrow
In such a way that it flattens
Their shoulder blades
It erodes the spinal cord
And devours the skin
Until there is but a memory
Of a person that remains

And yet somehow
We continue to feast
On the crumbs of grief
That fall onto the dinner plates
Of our most fragile memories

And still we sleep
In the crevices of
Our deepest insecurities
Only to be comforted
By a gentle reminder
That the end is
Growing nearer everyday

And we continue to play
The part of the aspiring optimist
Always grinning and laughing
While what's left of our insides
Curdle and churn
For even they are aware
Of the lie that sorrow makes
Kamilla Jun 2020
Flourishing Life and reaping Death
A fated relationship,
One which dooms greenery into ash
Although strife is expected
Death shall be respected
Aware of the destruction and pain
Death’s question remains,
“Why must I be destined to destroy Life’s beauties?”
“Why must I cut short the beginnings of buds,
And push forth a frost which kills them off?”
But through it all,
Life will answer his call
As long as there is growth,
There must be the sweet release of decay
Your sleighing is justified,
Don’t allow your doubts to waste you away
Zywa Jun 2020
Limos off the road,

stripes of gloss paint in the dust –


write how it has been.
Collection "Half The Work"
Serendipity May 2020
I stare at graves
and the autumn leaves
that fall,
as my envy
for decay
consumes me.
Sheila Greene May 2020
Anger, hate, rage
Bleeding black
Numb heart
Great hole
Engulfing my soul

Sadness, death, decay
Hardness remains
Heavy breathing
Slowing pulse
Alone, shallow grave

Calm, peace, hope
Ray of light
Breaks night
Like sun on dew
Evaporates the black

saved a soul
I am back.

© sd greene  6/15/17
We all have a darkness hidden inside of us.
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