cass 7d
paint me the colors of the rainbow
cover all my dullness,
all my grayness

make me a mask of colors
make it happy
no sight of sadness should be there

make my clothes gleam and glow
to shine away all my flaws
as it is expected that my body will be perfect

make my shoes shine bright red
like those of dorothy's
to hide the red blisters they are causing

paint me the colors of the rainbow,
make me shine bright
to mask all the pain
Make me colorful again
Terry Apr 5
“What’s wrong?”
I can’t formulate the right words to describe my state of being.
I can’t string together my wants and needs, but I’ll take tiny steps
And attempt to express them in this whiny poem
Using imagery, hypotheticals, and anecdotes.

My feelings are drying up like a river during a desperate drought.
They’re blocked off at the mouth by a giant beaver dam. Barricaded.
They percolate from the cracks, but not enough to feed into my extremities.
Not forceful enough for me to feel alive.

I’m not being the best version of myself.
Always in thought, but
My mind is empty and dull.
No aspirations, yet so much inspirations.

Admittance makes me feel so incompetent.
I cannot concentrate on anything anymore.
I feel lethargic, unmotivated, not driven.

Once blooming, now just a limp corpse drifting in the dirty brown of an overused body of water.
One where the village women would pay no attention to my floating heart;
They'd continue on with their daily chores and
beat their yesterday's laundry against a flat rock.

Neglected and forgotten.
“Nothing. I’ll just sleep it off”.
arby Apr 5
i’ve stopped trying.
i just bump into walls until i find a door,
the dull pain is
more annoying than anything,
and i could stop if i wanted,
but at least i’m moving.
i’m bad at titles.
smokey basil Apr 4
i am sitting on a cobalt blue stool
in your placid, dull kitchen
with my head in my hands.
you're gone.

there is a hazy
veil of grey
that covers the late
afternoon sky
and a stagnant silence
stretching to the ceiling.

everything is still;
the empty glass
in front of the
vacant violet vase
your ill-fitting
jean jacket
that is lying on the
dark wood.

my stomach crawls around.
my eyes are almost shut.
my legs are numb.
you are not here.

only the clock ticks,

and tocks.
It's been a couple of weeks since I've written but I have a lot of drafts I'll hopefully finish soon.
Poetic T Mar 10
She changed me like
        a used bulb..
But I hadn't gone out.

Never thinking I was useful,
                amendment of dulled glow.
I was useless to her needing.

Finding something brighter
              than something that
     had shined upon her from the start
Alex Mar 5
This girl has a mind as beautiful and big as the world and in the world her fantasies dance, coming to life like an amusement park switch turned on.
Colours and objects and happy kids faces.
But like every amusement park in all the books and all the movies.. It became abandoned. The paint becomes chipped, the rides come to a stop. The fantasies dull and the world begins to crumble.
I have no clue what this is. But feel free to like haha
Asonna Feb 23
Every night i stare at this pill,
white and small in size.
My feelings, once quite intense
are brought to a little hum.
The pieces where I'm broken,
they're slowly on the mend
although not as fast as one would hope
but its progress is better than none.

I cried tears about heartbreak,
the fatal blows of rejection.
But my patchwork heart, beating still
despite no one wanting to love me.
I get i'm young, almost 23 years
but the loneliness grows quite deafening,
Patches have worn and some even torn
yet i'm still sewing myself together.

Skin so thin, delicate & Friable,
Skin so pale and bleak.
Skin and organs to make a person whole
who feels so intensely deep.

It becomes a flaw to love so blindly,
to be kind and compassionate for them,
For the people who yet still hurt you,
but you'll turn a blind eye for them anyway.

Because you love them.

Every night i stare at this pill,
white and small in size.
My feelings, although quite intense
Make me whole somehow.
So I'll take this pill with treasured spirit
that one day I might be better.
although not as fast as I would hope,
It's the progress I hold onto the most.
Life as a high school wallflower served me
without any budding female friendships
until lo…
a gent tulle mandate from my late mother uprooted me
from mine kempf familiar bedrock level road terrain
which venue offered a groundswell
to blossom forth into golden sterling resplendent rod

of natural equipoise (this an unbiased opinion) and balance
with freestyle improvisational swinging motions
unchained from the moors of formality
and lit figurative saint elmo’s sesame street fiery dance

allowing, enabling and providing this shy awkward self
during his young adulthood
to cast away four ever
thy self embroidered handsome

straight as an arrow
naturally high as a kite young guy
buzzing like a yellow jacket
thus liberating spontaneity that je nais sais quoi joie vivre

clamoring headlong toward venus
from healthy pistil packing overflowing bin
laden well nigh testosterone erupting penis
toward opposite gender

whereby bravado donned as key
to hoe field of whet dreams
fostering initial albeit late blooming
roll in the hay hormonally rooted rutting squeal!
Vacuous Feb 1
I've decided to lock you away...
for your own good.
My own good?
Yes, thank me in a few years.
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