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Phantom Poet Jul 2018
I keep myself busy,
Try to make music,
With no knowledge on theory of music,
Try to make a game,
With no knowledge on coding,
I am engrossed in these works,
Work for days,
Exhaustion lurks,
I push myself too much on these,
I love these,
But the real reason,
To keep myself in a prison,
To not feel or remember,
Memories locked away,
To hide away in this work,
But then,
My work feels fake,
Everything mentally it takes,
And I end up resenting,
What I make
Kimberly Rose Oct 2015
It's nothing,
No, it's something.
Nagging and pulling,
Prodding with its insistence.
Distracting me,
Making me turn my attention to it.
"Surely not" I said.
It continued.
Bothered by it,
I decided to listen.
Wondering,
"How can this be?"
I've known him for so long,
But he's been a friend.
A good friend,
One who doesn't hurt you.
But I suppose that's why,
That's why I can't focus.
That's why I'm distracted,
Because I'm in love with him.
Vanessa Oct 2014
I wonder where my heads been,
When I wake up & forget what's my first move.
I've been pacing back and forth for days,
Since Friday all I can see is your green eyes.
When I find it, I'll ask where the **** it's been at.

— The End —