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Man Oct 2023
Dull ruts and periodic lulls, cast
Iron wrought.
A life of sea salt;
Choking on ocean foam, walking
On rusty bones
Sifting through ashes.
It's all growing old
CIN Oct 2022
Something breaks just around the bend
Longing is overturned
Replaced with a dull sort of fear
An impending sadness
Beauty, though gleaming with violence
Surrounds a thoughtful desire
Lust grows and swells
Bitter metallic love tastes sweet on starved tongues
Blood is no longer just red
But stunningly gone
October comes and I miss the way you hurt me. The anniversary of our departure weighs heavy on my mind. How I long to be your beautiful boy. How I miss your sudden changes of mind or the way you never kept your word.
xavier thomas Apr 2022
I’m amazed by your intuition
knowing everything else,
but doesn’t know a single thing
when I ask -“So tell me about yourself?”
Anya Dec 2021
The title is simply
a culmination of my whims
like the whim that keeps me
glued to my screen
tap taping away
tap
tap tap

While my room looks like some monster's den
And I engorge myself on those chocolate almonds

My eyes grow hazy
As my waistline grows larger
The yellow light pierces my eyeballs

As I be tap
tapping
away
If you're feeling like me right now, you're not alone. It's so easy to get swallowed up by our screens, fight it, fight it so you have no lasting regrets for the time will slip through your fingers like sand.
Anna Oct 2021
So many thoughts.
So many ideas.
Yet my mind is blank.
Like a painting that hasn’t been started.
I want to be beautiful.
I want to see colours.
I want to bring light to this dark world.
But my mind is blank.
And yet it is racing.
I feel so numb.
But I feel everything.
I see what could be, but I am stuck.
I am happy.
I am sad.
I am angry.
But I am also nothing.
I am blank.

I miss the colours.
I miss the light.
I want it all back.
I want to feel again.
I want to fight.
But I am tired.
So tired.

When will I be painted?
When will I be finished?
will I be filled with light and colours again?
Or will I stay blank, and dull.
Lifeless.
Valya Oct 2021
I wake up
Heart pounding
Staring at a grey wall
I lay there in silence
A dull sting of nothingness
Capturing my soul
Eyes wide open
I keep on staring
Hoping to feel something
Alas, I never do
the effects of anti-depressants seem to only remove my emotion they do not help me smile
mark soltero Jun 2021
trust is something sharp to hold
for someone important
in a perfect world we'd never bleed over one another
chrome blades dig into each person
who lost grip with their loved one
in a perfect world trust would be dull
significance is in the blade
filled inside of the atoms
are the affections, promises and lust we carry
a perfect world is plastic
empty atoms
hollow and dead on the inside contain nothing
I rather take the blade than poison myself
LC Apr 2021
before I step out into public,
I lock my opinions in a safe
that resides deep within
the ridges of my brain.
I wear a sweet smile
to mask the dull pain
radiating throughout my body.

but when I enter my safe space,
I strip myself of that smile,
and look my pain in the eye.
I dig into the ridges of my brain
to grab and unlock the safe.
I welcome my vulnerability
in all its undisguised nakedness.
#escapril day 7!
bubblyflower Apr 2021
Why can't I express myself into words?
This heaviness, stuck to my arms and mouth,
It makes feel like a butterfly stuck in a web.
I want to talk and write more and more,
My word is getting duller and duller
I want to confess to you
I want to speak to my friends
I want to be happy.
Mellow sunrised.
The dew of the afternoon high light.
Paradise sunset.
Tuscany, Marigold, Chartreuse, Caramel.
Amber, Copper, Olive, Saffron.
Honeycomb mystery of rejection... or doubt.
Freedom sparks; feet and hip dilate and constrict; lips close to feel the colors and open again, blinking to suffocate the oasis into the dull reality of smog and soot, of cemetery.
The psychedelic picturesque star stares back, dusk-like fireworks of heaven gained and lost.
One second that sealed his fate.
Death will be hazel eyes.
This is an extra poem I wrote after finishing my anthology, trying to explore a new style of poetry of almost pure imagery and sensory information.
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