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Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2018
Oh, how frivolous death truly is.
I no longer fear the quietus that will one day consume me.
Death is no more than the punctuation on the end of our tragic tale.
It's no more than a remedy for humanity.
Humanity is the grossest display of intelligence.
The most grotesque example of curiosity.
To call our species remarkable would be a scourge upon the word.
We taint the very things we love,
and incubate hate.
I take great umbrage in knowing my meaningless existence was spent as a human.
The contumely we have towards ourselves is enough to shed light on how excessively horrible we really are.
I am engulfed in wanhope,
infected with despair.
>>>
zen Oct 2018
I didnt think i would expose a poem,
or even,
conjour the courage to knit a cape out of my addiction...
This is me settling my habits with cigarettes to rest.

I ditch the nicotine and tobacco and cigarette paper,
and although the thought of this triumph is enriching,
Right now my spirit is pale, and stale of vigor,
The livliehood of a single puff,
could heal all pain of the moment,
until yet again,
time takes its toll,
Frozen I feel,
stuck and bewildered having my crutches
swept from the vice grips of my hands,
and now,
I am to stand on my own two,
with the will of my own my mind and my own heart.
Gravity is heavier here,
as if landing on planet Jupiter
Alien! Indeed is the feeling I feel, feeling, I fall...

Rugged and ruined under rain,
daggered with bows
and blind groping over braille,
Who knew victory could feel so grave, ill?
so grim and muggy and moody and mundane.
The greatest dynasties fell to dust,
and yet God doesnt even show a face familiar to man,
but is felt with the grace of a feather,
behold a blooming forever,
Clandestine, a boon worthwhile...
Roam wasnt built in one day!
Doug Jul 2018
Hope /
Dangles from a string /
Off a cliff /
And it's dangerous /
So I kick the ****** off /
Die, die, die /
It won't
Mashed up
Sources: Dashboard Confessional: Vindicated
Jason Segal: Dracula's Lament
C Mahood Jun 2018
Jealous of the sea.

He was always jealous of the ocean,
How could he write songs like the waves?
The timpani drums on the breaking tide,
Crescendos written on corral staves.
Harmonizing whistles from a shoreline quartet,
And the gentle reeds blow a soft minor key.
How could he ever write songs like the ocean,
How could he ever compose like the sea.
Steve Jun 2018
Succulent hate and misconceived trees of sorrow,
living under the devils tombstone of love,
rattling my subsequent bones of decay,
on my knees begging to be saved,
witnessing cains ******,
whipping gods eyes,
throw the feedbag on the horses face,
gorging the lies,
galaxies spark strange atomic waste,
suffocating the creator,
starving the witch,
branding the third eye,
searing flesh of goblins
distorted cries,
screams of freedom,
screeching violins play in Lucifers den,
ancient prognosticated scriptures of evil tribes,
frivolous hope crushed again by temptation,
reaching for the forbidden fruit,
love always just out of my grasp,
laughing and mocking my desperate tries,
my crippled desire burns to death right in front of my eyes,
helpless crushing weight from the chains of despair,
cage my raging savage endearments,
destroy me, my tortured love
April May 2018
Shakespeare said
To die- to sleep-
But sleep without a morning’s light

Hamlet said
He fears the dreams-
But dreams are what makes the night

And he spoke of
Wrongs, and suffering,
But wrongs without their right

And though Hamlet despaired,
And refused to go on,
Our joy is not out of our sight
Amy Duckworth Apr 2018
We all need it at some point
We always need to believe in it somewhere along the road
It is here to help us move along
It is like that person who stays behind to help you up
But there is no person
It is just you
Keep it in your heart
Keep it safe
Don't let it be corrupted or corrupt you.
William de klerk Mar 2018
Loving yourself
    Is not
                    An option
Right?

Because it’s easy
To hide behind someone’s shadow.
To blame yourself
And blend in.

Was despair so heavy it broke your legs?
Is hope a faulty crutch?
Just like the “friends”
That are a thin plastic net?

Did the hurt make you lose your voice?
In the silence
Did they take your strength
Because it was easy?

So stand up with your broken leg
And limp out of their shadow.
Let your screams be the voice
That separates you from the crowd

Because you are strong ,
Worth loving
  And...
                                 your NOT leaving.
Because Life is worth living
So keep breathing

Even when it’s not easy

-M.O.I
When you hate yourself, blame yourself or lose yourself to dispair , you fall into silence. People can take your opinions and strengths and crush them when you don’t speak.
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