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Alina Dec 2020
I think you never really move on from 'that' person. The pain just becomes more dull where it once was so sharp, sending daggers in to your oh so tender heart.

A.C.
JKirin Dec 2020
You are real.

My reflection is foreign, it’s haunted –

You are out there (I see you, I want you).

Lover’s caress spills traces of colour,

Making pain in my heart even duller.

Wishing idly (to touch you, to feel you),

I’m stuck here—this moment, my torment.

Help me heal.
Alicia Moore Nov 2020
I step out into the streets,
Ready to mimic the actions of those I’ve learnt from.

I do not understand the gleeful tones and beats
So I adapt another one’s joyful flow.

But I wonder how far this fake peace
Stretches across the land of our one and all.

Am I mimicking the mask of another mime?
I worry for the number who are stuck in a rhyme...
If the words are caught in your throat, reach out to audience instead of the fellow masks surrounding the curtains.
Sophia Nov 2020
spending my days
in between the sheets
peeking out at the sky as it speaks
one deep sigh
i watch as it shifts
from night time
to day time
flicking through the shades of blue
mixing together, painting a solemn hue
i hardly notice that time has gone by
until the new day arrives
sitting all alone
wasting all my time
Alistair Oct 2020
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!
gift Oct 2020
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 2020
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 2020
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 2020
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.
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