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I've felt the warmth of summer,
the beauty of spring,
and the death of fall.
Yet the coldness of winter is all I ever feel.

Whenever the sun sets
and the moon arises,
I've felt the warmth of the summer sunset.
It fades together with the hope left within me.

I wanted to return to those days,
where everyone laughs and smiles genuinely,
with no problems to suffer,
and anxiety left to feel.

I felt cold,
as the world turns darker.
Slowly, my feelings became dull,
Just like the snow falls on the ground.
Hello everyone! this is my first poetry that I made last year when I was in junior high. I hope you like it!
chi Oct 17
i don't see the stars in your eyes anymore, they look dull, sad—empty even.

i don't see the fire in your eyes anymore, they burned out and there was nothing left but darkness.

i don't see the life in your eyes anymore, they seem lifeless and full of agony.

i have always loved your eyes, for they unvail who you are and what you feel. i have always loved seeing the ocean in your eyes that drowns me and hypnotizes me; you have changed.
—g.l
a poem i wrote while looking at the mirror.
Caage Gaber Sep 29
Individual;
such a gorgeous and grand word.
Though dull, it's visible.
It took me a while to figure out, but I love people that throw away the act that the world expects you to have and plays as themself.
k e i Aug 8
the hamper’s starting to spill, week-old clothes pooling on the floor. the sink’s in need of getting drained, rotten food debris floating in mucky dishwater. dried leaves await to be picked out from the plants by the kitchen window. parcels are left unopened by the porch. notifications simultaneously ping as i turn on my phone, urgent messages left unreplied.

the room’s ever bathed in the dark, light unable to filter through as twilight starts, time i’d remain unaware of had my alarm not gone off. i’ve gotten by with chips for three days now, the 1L soda bottle nearly empty. a week ago i was supposed to start working on a project due two days from now i’ve gotten so far as mapping out a concept but i’m still looking for the will to tick off step one;
the will to get up, make the bed, put on clothes that aren’t rumpled or three-day-old like these jeans that i still have on.

i try to give myself another one of my “TEDtalks”, a rundown analyzation of things to go through how i’ve arrived to this colossally sinking feeling. but all that my mouth can coherently gather are year-long sighs. the teddybears propped by the corner of my bed, their black beaded eyes seem to hold more life, their stitched smiles actually formed with meaning. my blanket rests by the corner all wrinkled but here i am, sharing one with the dull melancholy dwelling in each heartbeat, babying it. i should brush it off but it clings, like the remnants of stickers you’ve placed on your first ever guitar that remains up to this day.

three days ago i was doing fine, not duly elated like a holiday’s thrill but i was able to joke around, go out, fulfill plans, cope with what the day throws, go home, satisfyingly crack my knuckles at the end of the night. now all the plans have stopped being sublime, “what’s even the point?” the only thing i can offer when they make themselves known.

this isn’t new, sliding in its way effortlessly into routine from time to time but each time it occurs i still get stupefied. like a sailor going down a shipwreck’s trail yet all i do is fling my lifevest off the faraway shore. like trying to find the lightswitch in my bedroom even when there are no lightbulbs installed. like some modus operandi where they hypnotise you and i find myself caught in a trance unable to break free even though i’m well aware of that sort of scheme firsthand.

i catch myself staring at the blackholes growing out from fissures in the walls. it turns into a staring contest dragging on for i don’t know, hours. i don’t know how long truly as clock work becomes fast-paced, mechanical, submerged in space.

alas, the aftermath dawns on in the early hours, ensuing the breakage of a curse years’-worth; i step out, unused to the halo of light. dewdrops form on orchid trees as the city fervently sleeps. the fog has miraculously lifted. relief follows through.
this was inspired by the song daylily by movements
Isabella Jul 6
if a knife goes dull after it's been used too many times,
why does life feel so dull right now.
it's not that i've done everything i could do,
it's not that i'm worn out,
but i've simply lost the childhood spark
that used to gleam in my eyes.
and i'm not sure how to sharpen the useless knife
that is life.
a moment in time, captured by a few poorly written words.
basil Apr 30
we try to stitch
each other up
with dull needles

and still gasp
in surprise
when we start to
bleed
raggamuffin (n.)-- a person, typically a child, dressed in ragged clothing.

04.30.2020
LightToBurn Apr 17
My heart is too dry
To lubricate your fragile ego
10 word poetry
AstralPotato Apr 13
Let me drown in the sea of joy
Of unwavering happiness and delight
Retrieve me from this dark abyss
Where I wandered without light
Van Xuan Apr 10
When the taste of love is gone
When dating feels empty
When there's no color in life
How could I ever love again?
Can I still have my happiness?
I don't feel like loving at all
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