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Tatiana May 2018
I don't like roses.

Their meaning weighs on me too heavily.
The red screams of a passion
that is one-sided,
for I don't believe I can return
such emotions.

I don't like roses.

Maybe I'm just with the wrong person?
And that's why I feel no passion.
I struggle so much to get romantically involved
and it makes me feel broken.
They always give me those **** flowers.

I don't like roses.

I don't know what love is.
Though I know what it's like to care.
These flowers are too focused on the idea of love;
a cliche, cookie-cutter, romantic option,
that seems safe, yet it puts me in a depressive fit.

I don't like roses.

But, I really wish I did.
I really wish I did.
© Tatiana
I struggle greatly with romance and getting close to people. As a result, many of the things that are staples of "romance" make me feel uncomfortable. I just don't want to feel like I'm broken and I wish it was easier for me to just enjoy these romantic things. But, I don't like them. and I don't like roses.
Moeshfiekah Mar 2018
That dredwire tonuge soaked in black hard tar spoke only the piece of the puzzle which was converted into lies.

He who walks the red sea in dreams drowns slowly in puddles . The making of his own blood. Satisfactory in the future for non is built on your words. Let me show you how it's done.
I hope you get what wrote. Uhm it's basically how the story fits into your life. But then again every story is seen in many ways
yellow-thoughts Dec 2017
my drug and addiction

i have to drink coffee
or else my head wants to explode
but like in medical terms
it's my pain killer

but in the same time
coffee makes my hands shaky
and heart too fast and
i want to do everything at once
and nothing at all

i really don't like coffe
it tastes like nothing
like burned sugar
and its blackness scares me

what should i do?
if i don't like my savior...
what's your relationship with coffee? xD
Quinntin Bravo Dec 2017
I hate the snow
Each flake elegantly dancing their way down the sky
Slowly drifting in which direction they please to
Leaving cold stings across my face

I hate the snow
Each flake containing an intricate hidden design
Millions of masterpieces laid across the streets
Only to be melted away
4-13-12-8
I might try other poems with similar syllables because I enjoy random math things
Jonathan Finch Dec 2017
I sat under the quiet trees all the restless afternoon,
Dreaming of what had been and never more could be:
Bitten the clouds, the declining canopy of air
Weary with insects weary with bats.
Black days black nights.
The benches of the dead set out, the dining dead.
At eight I rose, bitten the clouds,
A dog barked dead and long
Down the river of dead sights.
The thistle over which the dead goldfinch dreams of seeds;
The crimson road that marks the accident.
In courts, in currencies of plenty, wherever you are,
Do you hear the frogs croak, “Katharine”?
Jonathan Finch Nov 2017
She was that fatal girl who said the worst goodnight.
No one but she!
None could have dished out poison with such right
Perceptive wit upon occasions
Of late merry-making when wine and beer,
Cakes and red cheese, dallied down
The honeyed round.
                              Skill! Skill!
Such women with such skill!
Super controllers of no destiny!

Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
To fetch a pail of scorpions.
Jill came down
With daisy-chains
But Jack was bitten to ribbons.
from "Love" Poems For Kathy : Green. Lac ed. Leaves.
Jellyfish Nov 2017
The truth?
I’ll treat you like an acquaintance
until I won’t have to know you anymore.
I just can’t get myself to trust you again.
Jane Sep 2017
My father said, I was meant to have a sister.

Perhaps, the darkness she was meant to have I absorbed.

Surrounded by affection,
infatuated with popularity,
never have been disliked by anyone.

That's me.

constantly jealous,
caved in with paranoia,
never fully understood myself.

That is ,also, me.

Is there any purity left in a heart that craves vengeance?
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