R Miller Jul 14

The internet is slow
and people keep
Bubbles of self importance
Removed from humanity
The world crumbles
and there’s concern
over a mistakenly made
overpriced coffee
First world problems
focused on the
wrong crisis

Megan May 8

The First: A ceremony,
a mayday dance with paper flowers and smiles all round,
we love the island, we love the island,
we love everything that’s new to us.
You and I in the field-dance of my dreams.

The Second: A house of mirrors,
someone I know sat at a table as I stand on glass;
glass everywhere – glass, glass, and me
in my bare feet
dancing around the shards.
Something stabs my leg, and I do not hate it.
I hate myself.

The Third: A ship,
A Titanic from my nightmares.
Not sinking, but not sailing;
not waving, but not drowning
and me, watching it go,
me, the drowning,
me, the drowned.
I don’t remember this one too well,
I don’t remember what’s real anymore.

The Fourth: An acknowledgement,
“these are all dreams”
I dream an acknowledgement of the chaos I call familiarity.
I am dreaming my dreams –
aren’t I mad? How mad am I? How many levels of self-deception can I exist on?

The Fifth: A death I can’t quite remember,
somebody kissed the soil of this island goodbye,
somebody knelt in the dust and the ashes of the paper flowers
(when did we burn them, you and I?)
somebody left, and it was not me.

The Sixth: An end,
waking up from a coma to an insufferable hospital bed,
the shattering of a dream within a dream
a reality I created coming cascading down from the night sky;
and you, the snowfall,
you, the cold shooting stars,
you, the glance into the night sky; the beg for it to swallow me whole.
You, the one who swallows me whole.

You are the crying at work,
you are the strawberry flavoured water,
you are the angel in my dream-nightmares.

And when everything melts away,
as the dreams sink with the ship, and the flowers burn, and the glass shatters,
you are there, always there, solid in a field of cold shooting stars.

You are the only thing I wake up to.

Mostly based on some dreams I've had in the past few weeks.
Katsuo Iwata Apr 23

Gray shapes moved through blue fields,
and foothills faded to starry skies.
She’d traveled there and back again,
yearning through the kitchen window.
Beyond the lawn and chalky curb,
Over boxes full of tiny people,
To the edge of the horizon and back to here.

He was talking still somewhere.
Lips and teeth and tongue and clicks and clacks.
There was speech and sound but mostly noise,
And she wondered when it would all end,
and then it did.
And it was quiet,
But there was no calm.

Tied to the phone
ears plugged, never alone
listening for specific tones
tripping over, things unknown

Anchored to a four inch screen
texting, your boring, vaccine
maybe not always, clean
places been, and things you've seen

Disconnect and live the dream
no tether to electric screams
keep the faith, to the extreme
dance in the sun, and not, in data streams

It's addictive, just as much as is alcohol, drugs, or an exquisite woman.

Don't you get it?
we sweat it
they get it all

I won't give in
be a cog in their wheels
it feels like I'm pushing up daisies,
I'm not yet pushing twenty

why is it they got plenty and
I have porridge for breakfast?

Fears for the future
and it doesn't exist
it might never

we might sever all connection with
what makes us human.

This must be the dislocate
it cannot be fate,
I've tuned out from the show
does anyone else know
what frequency we're on?

Vyscern Mar 20

My past was always blurred,
From when I was a child
All I knew from others was
I was angry, reckless, wild

I've recently learned the truth,
My eyes are growing wide
As the barrier within becomes
More a longer, broad divide

How do I love my parents
When two were not mine?
The other two were always gone
And this barrier just won't die

Biology didn't dictate
That she would ever try
When depression caught and set in
All she saw was failure, alive

Behind closed doors, physical
Or within her mind
She shut herself from me
From the world, alone she cried

But I cannot forgive
You were supposed to be there for me
Too young to understand her marriage
Didn't stop her cheating

Step Father didn't do much,
Believes her every lie
Made it the world of his past
But neither did he try

Father on deployment,
So the connection isn't there
I see it as a friendship
And it is too heavy to bear

Step Mother was a saint,
Made me fit again
But I have no love for her
Just respected as a friend

It's a hole deep inside of me
Like acid to my heart
My mother never tried,
And that tears me apart

Feeling so unloved, alone,
In sorrow
And although I have three houses
Not one of them is home.

Truth hurts... it disturbs me that... this is me...
Bailey Cohen Jan 28

you are a child. you are the passage of time.
you are someone i love(d). i asked for your hand
and you gave it to me. cut it off and everything.
the only thing i can hold is your hand. it is
disconnected from the rest of you.
you are standing in front of me, with stubs of muscle,
blood, and bone in the absence of your palms.
when i say palm, what i mean to say is a flower.
what i mean to say is a zinnia. what i mean to say is
an entire garden of whatever. when i try to
intertwine our fingers, i cannot. your fingers are
immovable. your heart is too. you are a human body
made of 63% water, but every single flower inside of you
is still wilting. i say Come here i have an entire lake
underneath my ribcage. Come here i can teach you
how to swim all you have to do is let me. Come here
i love you, but only underwater.

buy my ebook "an apology in 3/4" for only $2, here: https://payhip.com/b/sbiy !!!

Disconnected syllables of broken names trying to be whole
fill my dreams and echo through my home
while the eyes of a billion childlike selves cast their judgement...
Who are you.
Dislocated limbs pile in corners of my room
and I've forgotten where each fits,
and to which long past figure they belong, but still their eyes question...
Who are you.
Disappearing thoughts leave mist in their wake
only remembered by their now empty space
and a distant weakening whisper...
Who are you.

mk Jan 14

it's raining and
the sky is cracking and
the clouds are growling and
all i can hear
with my ill ear
are the gentle drops of rain

the rain has broken
all the telephone wires
there is static when i try
to reach out to you
the internet died
sometime last night
and there's no way i can
speak to you

the cable was taken away and
the lights are flickering and
my phone short-circuted and
my laptop overheated and

i'm disconnected

i'm thinking back
to our last few days
and thinking of
the words i never heard
the words you never heard
when the calls dropped and
the line went numb
did you ever even hear me
when i whispered

and i wonder now
maybe that was the problem all along
maybe we were always on the verge
of making our always into forever
and maybe our love just got stuck in

bad connection.

JR Falk Jan 6

We are sitting in your car, and we are quiet.
The sun has set and the only illumination is the streetlights of the city I've told you I wanted to show you since the day we met.
For once, we are not holding hands.
Three hours prior we were staring at one another across the top of a table at Qdoba and you assured me things were working out. You assured me that we could continue as we were. This wasn't goodbye.
I assured me you weren't forcing those words, yet three hours later, as we are leaving the city I never got to show you, you are not looking at me.
The day before I would not hesitate to say I love you.
The day before, I would not doubt your touch.
The day before, I explained to you that I do not say "goodbye" when planning to see someone again. "Goodbye" is too permanent a term, "goodbye" is when you can't promise you'll come back.
Now, we are sitting in my basement and you lie on the couch.
I am sitting on the floor.
You're looking at your phone as I look for something to watch on the TV, and you do not seem to care what.
I look for something for you.
As it plays and you watch, I watch how quickly we are fading.
My heart yearns to show to you that I believe we are worth this, but just like the sun faded from the sky and we were overcome by the night sky,
it seemed the light had faded from your eyes and you no longer saw the sky in mine.
I attempt to make my way beside you on the couch, and I soon realize that there's no longer room in your life for two.
I found myself memorizing each freckle on your face,
I found myself remembering the shades of blue your eyes kaleidoscope into when hit by the sun.
I found myself wondering just when they might see sun again,
as I could tell they no longer shone when looking at me.
It was then that I realized my heart was no longer full of love,
it was empty from the lack of reciprocation.
You looked at me as though I held the answers to everything you'd ever asked,
but I feel as though you quickly realized I was an issue, outdated.
You left about midnight.
I kissed you as you left, and I thanked you for coming.
You assured me it wasn't a problem.
I told you that I loved you,
and you told me you loved me, too.
You said "goodnight,"
and for the first time,
I said

My chest feels heavy.
Next page