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Lotte Weiss Apr 2020
My heart, a sinking ship

Bereft of balanced beams

Descends deeper towards its doom; Depth

creating elusive dreams

My hope, a shifting plate

Converged with reality

Shifts, shatters, shakes its foundation

A quake leaving heavy debris

My body, a tattered shoe

Weary from the long trek

Desperately pleading for its restoration

Left a disheveled wreck
Mansi Mar 2020
Everything seems gray
Like tasteless
Zero motivation
To move or to do anything

Why do I feel this?
Why so tired and disoriented?
Diksha Prashar Feb 2020
We are on
Voyage of successful
Mixing hard work
And struggles
As spice
Some find shore
Earlier than anticipated
Others in midst
Of catching up
A little disoriented
By hurdles and stumble
Invisible ropes
The crumbling hope
Of making to shore
leo arden Aug 2019
one and another played a game in the forest

where the dark trunks rose tall

and the creatures were a chorus.

the delicate blue air in the midnight’s gloom

left one disoriented:

are the sounds one’s voice too?

one wondered and wandered, but after some time,

another’s voice and one’s thoughts

intertwined in one’s mind.

one cried and one protested, one just didn’t know;

was one even moving?

for one lost feeling in one’s feet below.

the cold wind blurred one’s sight, and nothing seemed clear

so one closed one’s eyes

overtaken by fear.

one was without feeling, legs to chest, and even one’s face.

now all one wanted

was another’s kind, warm embrace.
embrace one another.
AD Snail Mar 2018
My dear when I tell you,
"I'm a late bloomer."
I need you to know, that I meant to say is,
"I have lost my petals and my stem is bare."

Own ****** hands, The only criminal is I,
I have taken shears and torn ungracefully.

There the petals lay underneath.

A gentle breeze then came by and swept them away,
Never to reach my clutches again.

My dear I made myself bloom far to early,
Letting the petals of myself vanish.
Leaving me astray within my own vessel.
A line of vases
the wind blows against
knocking them over,
but only a few left broken

Some picked back up,
others left with just a scratch
but i'm part of the batch
that shattered.

Built back up,
glued together,
you can't erase the damage done by this weather,
leaving me unwanted forever

Left there all alone
to be knocked over
or thrown
until i've shattered once more
so you just leave me on the floor

because i'm
too far gone,
yes, you made me
too far gone
and now no one will piece me back together.
Feeling numb saying words from the tip of my tongue.
A succinct expression deriving from a passionate exclamation.
Lunar Oct 2014
i might have become
         h o l l o w
         as the bottles i drank
             as my cold fingers
      e m p t y
        as the inbox on my phone
  as how this poem is typewritten

how much more naiveté
do i have to go through
in order to realize
because i know im hurting
yet i dont know how to explain the pain
i Sep 2014
broken fingers,
broken hearts
and lost loves
who will stay
forever hidden
in manhattan.
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