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being distracted
is not the same thing
as being okay
John McCafferty Dec 2020
Creative minds shine through silent shadows
Freer thoughts run along the edges
Of boundary lines untied
Distracted less distressed
Confinement now a guest
In a safer space to play
Separate states arrange personal traits
To trust the chance of expectations
Enforce the plight of set objectives
Opportunities arise to compliment
Though every aim cannot be met
We suit our direction and intent
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Cyndi Dec 2020
I use my illnesses as an excuse to not do what needs to be done, to not do what I want to be done.
Careless.

I spent hours and hours on a project I love, but will likely never finish.
Yearning.

I went the whole week without finishing a single assignment.
Negligent.

I leave my hundreds of abandoned projects by the wayside, despite wanting to work on them all.
Distracted.

I dream of creating so, so much, but don't ever commit to something because it's not instantly gratifying.
Idiotic.


I wrote a poem about how awful I am for friends and strangers alike to see and pity me over.
Egotistical.

I told my parents that I did homework when I just lazed around all week.
Liar.

I waste money on food when there's food in the house.
Lazy.

I woke myself up too late at night with this poem in mind.
Irresponsible.

I want to **** myself sometimes.
Selfish.
I don't know if this is similar to any kind of previously defined poem, but I followed a clear pattern in my word choice and stanza structure that I haven't seen elsewhere. Sometimes, you just want to define yourself, even if the definition isn't really always true.
I think I'll call this kind of poem "Défini via des Mots," because it just seems right to name it in french, haha.
I sit in contemplation
trying to close my eyes
so I turn off the playstation
and drop my phone with a sigh.

Earlier, I tried to eat a pear
'cause fruit is healthy and stuff
but it was too hard for me not to care
it just wasn't ripe enough.

This show I've been obsessed with
and the manga after that
have busted that subconscious myth
that fiction has a lesser impact.

How long will I spend in the depths
of the fandom and content I find
accessible at my fingertips
and flooding through my mind?

When will I sense the ending
of this era of nights spent reading
headcanons, and content expanding
on the world on which I'm feeding?

Last night the latest chapter
was out on my mobile app
and I stumbled across it after
going to reread whatever was last.

It hit me like a ton of bricks
like the weight of hardback copies
of every scene the author depicts—
sent shock throughout my body.

A character who, before this day,
was invincible and proud
not unrivaled in his sway
but always drawing a crowd.

And then the last page caught me
and I could not look away
as tendrils from the enemy
cut through its raging prey

Too quick to be avoided
the hit was meant for another
but he knew he'd been appointed
as savior to his brother.

Taking a bullet for the one he abused
the one he had hated and cursed
before their fates were irrevocably fused
without either harsh role reversed—

All perceived slights against him
any contempt he thought he had shown
was forgotten as he jumped out to save him
His body just moved on its own.
I just can't get that image out of my head...
I refuse to believe Bakugo could be dead.
Ella Grace Jun 2020
Keep your eyes on the page
Don’t look away
Don’t look at the ticking clock
Or the burning fire

Keep your mind clear
Try not to think
Don’t think about the deadline
Or the rising emotions

Just stay focused
Push through the block in your mind
Ignore the buzzing in the room
Stay in the zone

Keep your eyes on the page
Stop looking
Don’t stare at the clock
Or the scorching fire

Keep your mind clear
Stop thinking
Don’t worry about the time
Or the raging emotions

Just get back to focusing
Stop staring at the block in your mind
Stop listening to the buzz
Get back in the zone

You failed.
You couldn’t stop
Time just kept on ticking
The fire became wild
And your emotions took over

How could you?
I told you what to do
All you had to do was focus
Why couldn’t you focus?

It’s your fault
You should’ve managed your time
Everyone’s disappointed
Why did you get distracted?
Lost at sea is when I heard you singing
Among many shattered rocks she laid if as a sleeping fox.
Putting me into her terrible trance with that graceful glance.
So distracted you lead me to my own doom.
Eventually we all get tricked by a siren or two.
Grey Apr 2020
When I gave you my heart
You lovingly cupped it in your palms
But I guess you got distracted
Because I watch it slide through your fingers
And shatter on the ground.

When you gave me your hand
I held it tightly in my own
But I guess I got distracted
Because our fingers are no longer intertwined
And our hands are empty.
4/26/2020
Nylee Oct 2019
The pain shoots through
lives beneath the surface
touch me not, it will start again
being careful enough is not helpful
Weighs you down, you think only  .

The bright world continues life,
the feeling and thoughts distracted.
The bones feel weak, cracked up
Less pressure to the area
I close my eyes before the pain begins.

There is no right position,
It hurts and hurts more every time
It edges over a fine line.
You get through with the blurred vision
With pain a lasting companion
.
B D Caissie Sep 2019
The empty stare, beyond what's there.
The mind’s eye seems to draw me there.  

To a place of peace and a place of calm.
In a world where something must be wrong.

Oh how I long to guide you through.
This tunnel vision point of view.

Within my mind’s eye I see you there.
What others perceive as a cold blank stare.




©
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