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Sabika Apr 2021
Is there a feeling worse than regret?
Knowing you’ve done something against yourself and only you are to blame?
What’s more poisonous than being able to live and relive the events of the past?
Than being able to see the rippling effects your actions have?
I cannot imagine anything worse
Than to be stuck in my own body
Than to experience myself so intensely
Knowing what I did
Knowing who I hurt.
I cannot imagine anything more frustrating
Than making mistakes and then knowing
How I could have done better and
Realising the limits of my own cognition
And the stupidity of my own ego.

I ask myself why
But the question only drives me mad.
I spit at my own reflection and
Cower into a corner and long for
A few seconds of non-existence.
I am ugly,
Ugly in the soul,
Ugly in the bone,
And no
These mistakes are not normal.
How can I be my own victim and perpetrator so easily?
And then wake up with dread that I’m not necessarily safe for myself?
I am stuck.
I did know better
But I didn’t do any better,
So what the actual f*ck?!
TheWitheredSoul Apr 2021
Most People that say that they understand Your pain.
Do you really understand?

Do You know what its like to be waiting for a call that will never come?

Do you know how to know the end and yet hope for something better?

Do you know what its like to be left alone writhing on all the words that was never said and never heard?

Do you know how smooth her skin was when she held my hand?

Do you know how she made my chaotic world so calm and unburdened?

Do you know how far her absence wreaked havoc in my world  and let me delve right beyond the edge of the abyss that I wish I never knew?
There's a lot of things that I wish I did, but now the time has passed and the only way out is to move forward, will all these scars disappear? will all these feelings get lost in time? Maybe it will and maybe its time that we need to stop living life as in Should've Could've Would've.

Its time to let go of the misery and embrace the pain so that someday we get to lay our scarred heart to peace.
At night, against the pulsing embryonic black which could
Squeeze any number of untold horrors from it’s voided heft,
There sits a door; bright searchlights unmoving, having forever
Ago found and revealed the menacing target of their feverish hunt.
The lights, beacons of vision and revelation stay still,
Afraid to ever lift their gaze from the door.

The door; a crimson sentinel of conformity’s’ demands. A gate
To a finite space of infinite secluded terrors. It’s mocking facade,
Not the true foundation of the haunting visage, but it’s chosen
Illumination against the choking nothingness around it.
There is nothing else but it, and if the lights lose
Their oppressive gleaming, there will be nothing.

Would it not be better for the deep to win the ever waging war
Against our struggles to find hints of sight and recognition?
If the door were to vanish from the othering out there,
then it would be impossible to not turn inward. A forced reflection,
a mirror that’s presence is known, existence felt, but is unseen,
only available when the absence is absolute.

Nonplussed, the bastion remains, a gravity well pulsing
In and out the night, as if the darkness centered around
Maintaining the illusion of safety from knowing ourselves.
Do not be afraid, you will not be forsaken or alone with anything
Other than the beating of your quickened pulse, the edges
Of your vision shrinking until all that you are

Is mirrored in that crimson sentinel.
Sometimes even the simplest things can sometimes a sense of uneasy dread
JV Beaupre Mar 2021
Thoughts of dreads came and went.
I fell asleep to dream.

No, not the infinite intestinal maze
with red, slimy, pulsating walls
forcing me ever-forward.

It was worse.

I was in my own bed with a big snake.
I was tangled in the covers and I couldn’t get away.

Flick, flick, serpent kisses to my face.
Slither, slither, as coils envelop.
I knew it was a dream but I couldn’t wake up.

And then I did.
David Naumann Mar 2021
Ripples of water, reflections of the night sky
and inflections of why, words came but all authors’
pens dried and faltered, moments of the divine
lost to the sacrilege of time, feeling came but altered.

Darkness came and surrounded,
confusion came and confounded,
as deep as valleys, as tall as mountains,
heartbeat in chest pounded.

Little lamp lead the way, the end is not today.
Tomorrow will come and stay, so do what I must to stay
a lit by this gentle flame, as all of will not be in vane.
I said aloud in a moment of panic to stay sane.

But time came and the light did not falter,
faith grew in this little, little light of mine,
and it grew to shine without any signs of alter.
Hope flickered as the flame stayed a lit on the twine.

Alone and afraid, frayed rope dwindling
burning as vibrant kindling, however closer did it fade
luckily in the darkness laid, countless stars swindling.
My heart rejoices as I have made it to the rekindling.

No longer alone, no longer afraid
pulse dropped, pounding stopped
the stars came and a lit my flame
I need to thank them all by name.

As I laid staring up at the stars,
feeling so small and alone on Mars,
I forgot all of the people who have came
who shared their soul and flame.

I hope I can keep being your flame,
and a piece of yours mine.
Days will be dark and dreary,
but shine on and shine forth into the night.
Love and adore all that we have.
Ali Hilout Mar 2021
I am veiled. I am an insomniac.
I am a lot of raindrops on window glass.
I am the treasure that is hidden in dunes.
I am the screeching winds on dreary nights.
I am the blossoming trees on a warm spring.
I am your welcoming sight on a starry night.
Do not stand at my final resting place and shed bitter tears.
I am far away. I did not fall asleep.
The Little King Mar 2021
He reigns in greed, destruction
Fear, and hate,
For the sake of people’s appeal,
He conquers their cries,
Upholds the lands higher than all else,
But he does not wish to be here,
He does not wish to conquer,
To reign,
To be King.

He wishes…
To go home.
M Mar 2021
It's not that I don't want to get it, you're just empty.
Drained of empathy and utterly absurd.

I'm not being careless, if anything- I'm quite the opposite.
So I just choose to remain silent and brush your thoughts away.
You chose to devour me
Cautiously-
Giving in, eventually.
A descriptive word
I not often would present
To myself
Has been cast in blindness
By the spotlight

The curtain distorts
The intentions
Of even my own
Acknowledgment

Dwelling at my reflection in the water
When ripples form
At another coin I toss
Wishing

Wishing at a well
Instead of planning,
Because planning
Makes the dream real,
And I’m afraid of reality.

I could spend my whole life
Staring into my reflection
Debating on what I'm worthy of wishing,
Instead of not letting those thoughts
Take over my mind
Fidgeting with coins between my fingers
Before I inevitably let flick,
Instead of pretending I believe in myself
And take a chance on something.

Why would I rather
Be alone
Than run into
Your open arms
Waiting for me?

What things are so important
That I cannot just turn away
So easily?
Doing nothing
Instead of loving.

What the hell is wrong with me?
45 lines, 297 days left.
Maze of life
Does not describe
How this reality plays

We live or die
Bonded to the destiny
Take me, beauty of soul

Another dread begins
Can you save me?

Or just a masquerade
To show me
The beauty of a rebellion
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