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Jeremy Betts Feb 8
You thought I was falling apart before
But at that point I still had my feet on the floor
Now, I don't even see the ground anymore
No clues on what I'm in store for
For now or for forever more
Did I drift or swim out far to far from the shore?
I'm far further than a metaphor can illustrate, further than ever before
Memories so distant they've been redesignated as basic lore
What more can you do when you've lost your core
And it was you who held open the door...
...once more

My hair is a mess of antennae-
Each piece picks up static of days
dead and gone.

I run through the noise with unmanned hands- feeling the weight of each lock.

Where’s the golden child?
The girl with a head full of health?
Of ringlets
yet to be devoured by time, sweat and dissonance.

As I drift I hear the voice of my mother fading- her chord was cut and motioned off-air in the wake of new administration.

Memories trapped in the roots of straightened strands. Her signal comes through as a muffled cry:

“These ends may be swept away,
but my music will still play
through your stereo.”
Kamal Apr 2023
Drifting through life
Me, myself, and I
Taking what is handed to me
Never asking for much
Never wanting more
Than a simple yes
Me, myself, and I
Scared of rejection
Terrified of ridicule
Drifting and hoping
To land on a solid ground
To anchor down
To feel your love!
Me, myself and I

Strying Oct 2022
"it was just a dream,"
I whispered,
wishing I'd woken up to a different reality.
actually, I'm usually happy to wake up to reality because I have stressful scenarios in my dreams a lot loll
Lukai Jul 2022
a brand new balloon
treasured by a naive child
he tries his best to keep it safe
but the wind carries it away
the string  drifting from his hands
moving further and further into the sky
and he can do nothing but watch
Zygos Jan 2022
Tracing smoke with dry ice fingertips,
I hold my breath and begin to float.
The heat of a bellies past burden
steams to my head, until I begin to rise.

No where to go, except everywhere I'm late,
so I drift along a black and blue sky pretending
to be a storm. Pressing clouds into my skin
that slowly evaporate into recovery along the way.

Unconscious and shattered, I land where I've
always been. Cloaked in dew drop kisses and
pink morning yawns, I could pull the earth over
my head just to snooze into eternity.

But there's a mouth at my neck, breathing sticky
lies and humid affairs. Each whisper a grain of
sand, filling my vision with a million fragments of fog.
Blurring what ever I was and who ever I will become.

I drink shape shifting water that always refills as
*****, lubricating contorted lust and pages that
won't burn. Scraping scabs for clues and emptying
all my pockets for loose change as a compass for hope.

Slippery slumber, the hot air rises to make room for
cold confrontation and chilling truths. On every
surface you'll find manic scribbles that feel
like immortal truths
bleeding from my fingertips,
only to wake in silence with no resolution.

Just the melodic drone of recycled air from the AC.
Kokomikiisoom Dec 2021
And then he said,
in an almost whisper,
‘is this where you start to drift away?’

I could feel
the swelling of emotions
in my throat
and the heat of my tears forming
as I replied ‘no’.

My heart hurt because he knew me so well.
He knew I pushed away
when I was hurt by someone.
This man who knew my soul and loved it.
He knew exactly what I would do.
And that is what I did.

This time
it was away
from him.
and the wind will blow
and you will drift
guided by chance
and an unseen Navigator  
like a ship on a raging sea
or a butterfly caught in the wind

just don't close your eyes

the light may be
too bright or too dim
the crumbling ruins
may fall hard
beside and inside you

but don't be found
holding tightly to the cocoon
when the metamorphosis
has long been completed.

          --Daniel Irwin Tucker
I originally wrote this poem to relate on a very personal level. But I reposted it because I believe it is more pertinent than ever on every level of human existence in these troubled times.
George Krokos May 2021
You say you love me but I don't know
for your love is like the winter's snow.
Though I see you now just as you are
your presence is like the morning star.
I'll try and grasp what this could mean
when a heart close to a mind has been.

Our feelings shared before made sense
but now all fall back on the past tense.
It seems as if we've been drifting apart
and love's seeking to make a new start.
We're both grateful we've had a chance
to experience in our life love's romance.
Written in Feb 2021.
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