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I didn't want him to die
If only he'd had a survival guide

If such a guide existed
He wouldn't have been so twisted

It's painful to hear the truth
That he died because of you

So you choose to hide
In your comfortable denial
you choose to hide in your comfortable denial
Sophie Sharp Aug 31
So I guess now it's real,
all the dreams I used to feel,
shattered, battered, bruised and far away.

Denial is a strange beast,
keeps holding me to ransom and all for an illusion.

But through this troubled time I've always thought
somehow things would be unbearable for you too.

Seems that I was wrong.
k e i Jun 20
a concept:
you in a tux and me in a red dress that reaches my toes. we sit on the hood of your 50’s beat up chevy, drinking cheap wine straight from the bottle, speaking in metaphors and hyperboles. we kiss ‘til our senses burn and no sooner would it be one of those nights we try to stuff in the back of our heads even when we both know better than keeping cool in our own state of denial;

“for without blinking an eye the moon has seen it all.”
Julia Celine Jun 4
Living on borrowed time,
Our love built a fortress
That we'd never get to live in
It's reinforced with resilient hope
And embellished with reminiscence
Too bright to be buried
Too strong to be knocked down
But we defend against nothing but footsteps
As we walk from this hallowed ground
Cut the limbs
off a boundary

of trees,
and the police come running.

He was more supported--
there was evidence--

twisted branches
on the ground--

video of it
in action.

It took three days
to go from comfort

to sorrow--
she who freed me

also made me
a ghost.

My i
diminished--

blood on all
my four walls.

I'm still
the only one

who sees red.
His wife doesn't seem to care.

She can always deny
everything

and stick her head
in another book.
yet another quiet reverie
precursor for a life forgotten
snatched away like the dreams I never had
of lush green valleys around the mansions,
fancying a meal of venison
in a clandestine shade of night
sparkling wine was a flavour of few,
lying awake at night
with a lover by my side

raucous laughter coming from all around
kind behaviour of the family makes you astound,
as a whole rather than a half
all together cherishing your art

lives were made and ruined in the night,
take it from an artist for losing everything in sight

a kleptomaniac of not just thoughts but words to boot,
fishing for inspiration while straightening my suit

scrambling for meaning even in the delusions,
living in denial rather than waking up from illusions.
Maybe in my dreams, I'm an artist.
Cae Apr 14
I'm not gullible, you know.
I know second chances
are just excuses.
I know I have to stop counting the stars for those
who wouldn't even stay up to see them glow.
I know.

I can't keep breaking myself to fit their template,
to make them feel perfect.
I know I need to start burning bridges
with the match that has always stayed unlit through my temperance.
I know.

I need to stop looking through rose-colored lenses.
I always hoped that when I took them off,
nothing would change.

But maybe it's good that
I finally see what has really been in front of me.
Eva Adams Apr 11
You wore the scent of betrayal
The more I sniffed it, the closer I was drawn towards you
I had never denied being in love, but for the first time, I was in denial
After a few weeks, days or even years, when the scent will fade, you will too, I somewhere knew
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