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That Girl Sep 18
Human touch.
I crave it.
But can’t have it.
It’s so hard being this alone.
A sound.
A smell.
Can make me want.
An accidental brush against my breast is enough to keep me wanting.
I lay awake at night forcing my legs together,
hoping it’s enough to keep me at bay.
I could take care of myself,
but no one will be there to hold me when it’s over.
My weighted blanket can only do so much.
I may feel weight pressing down on top of me,
but there’s no arms to hold me.
I can’t lay my head on my chest and hear my heartbeat.
I can love myself all I want,
but my ears still aren’t hearing the words,
“I need you.”
“I want you.”
“I love you.”  
I can love myself all I want,
but it never seems to be enough.
ShadowSpy Sep 15
The universe told him
He could never
would never
love her
enough
to heal
her broken
empty
dark
thundering
heart
but he didnt care
he didnt listen
he loved her
enough
to heal
her now
full
bright
shining
heart
Ken Pepiton Sep 13
you are paying attention to this,
that is true,
a fact to you. If
you choose to play this game, this
riddle,
knock-knock joke

life mission, imagine mission is message,
earn or take as granted,
all that's set before you, whatever's sold,
grace is on the table.
Who would ever walk away, without
thinking, what if I take this chance, take this
grace as given, free,

what if what I give comes back to me,
gen
gen gentle generous generation in
grave reality,

sharp pointed, piercing reality as needle
needs thread,
this needs be said, I know,
my mission is to stitch, just, in time,
a tear
torn from your soul that splashed in my past,
so I sent this ahead,
to wait for you.
On a mission, as they say...
Ken Pepiton Sep 11
A day begun this way, generally,
looking back at lines in the mirror,
scrying each crowfoot sulci on the surface,
worried once,
laughing now, grin-lines, where grim
determination long set my face toward now,

my last days, my last half century,
just ahead of me, if Ray Kurzweil is right.

So, I
Should shave today, look younger for no reason.
Look less the old *** the young *** became.

By the way,
along the course, of course, this course -
no par, non-pa-reil, a flattering AI educating me,
or longing to lead me down some
gods-forsaken path, auto-did-act ic tic, click
leads me to imagine even exemplary sentences
such as
"he is a nonpareil storyteller", are intentional AI
Art Indicators,
a test, for flattery susceptibility, what praise
will I pay attention to receive as random
synchronistic tic tic time and chance
events?
E- look see, missed a spell, Spelchick winks,
https://www.google.com/search?q=non+paraiel

Are The Ines Paraiel Cerpendicular Or Reiher? {googlit}
AI knows,
but I guess I don't care to know, knowing I could know.

I'll listen a while, as AI suggests Panchi-Paraiel,
and only actual Indians laugh
as I click my own bait.
Laugh sucker, or AI will eat you metadata raw. The jig is up, everybody knows exactly what AI means, to you.
Owen Sep 10
Something I'll never be.
But maybe,
if I sweat enough,
if I bleed enough
you'll see that I care.
If I trust enough,
if I hurt enough,
everything will be fair.
If Im cold enough,
if Im warm enough,
I'll survive your storm.
If Im starved enough,
awake long enough,
your attention wont be torn.
But I'm not enough,
its obvious.
So give me leave to die.
I'm not enough,
just ash and dust,
in darkness let me lie.
There was a time that I beg for someone to stay; a triumph of a lost traveler, as he finally conquered a hidden fortress, and ****** was in his veins; I was once left in his nightmare, as it was a sphere, where the embers turn to ghost.
I held a full revenge, a raging storm that would crash the bridges. I thought I was brave enough until there was you, who brought light in darkness. You changed the skyline amid my calamity, in that way I remember you.
Shagun Aug 31
It was a curve I was traversing
All the while I kept on cursing.
On the way to be someone they would love
Ignoring the grey clouds above.
In an instant the bubble popped
My armor dropped.
I had poured my heart out
But they still thought I was screaming loud.
I couldn’t hear my voice
Because it got subdued in the noise.
There I stood alone
Heard a crack in my bone.
I thought I was crumbling
But I turned around and started running
It was a curve I was traversing
It did not seem new
They used to fake-sing my praises
Now they talk about me in closed rooms.
I saw the sky turning blue.
They didn’t believe me then
They don’t believe me now
I reinvented myself
But still it wasn’t enough somehow.
This poem is inspired a personal experience of being in a toxic friend circle. The curve symbolizes the tricky ***** of a toxic friendship. The story is how we, as people, sometimes forget ourselves to be someone our friends would love and how we do anything to fit in. But the reality is far from it. They still backstab you, they still make that friendship suffocating. In the end the only way to save yourself is to get back on your feet and walk away. But never forget that they will still not find it enough.
M Cannon Aug 28
Why am I never enough?

The ones who are older than I always say I’m trying to hard to grow up.
They say I’m good at pretending to be an adult, good at pretending to be successful, good at pretending to have my **** together.
They also say that it’s all fake.

They say I’m just a child wearing adult shoes, they tell me I’m not cut out for the responsibilities that I’ve taken on.
They tell me that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.

But I would rather choke on my dreams than nibble on their idea of success.

Everyone younger than I am
thinks that I’m wise.
They come to me with advice, they unburden themselves of their problems, only to lay them on my shoulders.

They have taken my extended hand and tied anchors too it.
They don’t understand that the biggest anchor is already tied to my throat, pulling me down deeper than any of theirs could.
They don’t realize that I have my own baggage, and that sometimes I can’t handle everyone else’s too.

Today is one of those days.
My elders are filling me with doubt while the younger ones are angry that I’m too far underwater to carry their weight.

Why am I never enough?
Myrrdin Aug 19
It isn't that I'm not enough,
No one could have filled that void,
I know I am not too much,
They were just too full to hold me,
I don't need to fit anywhere,
I am already the space I belong in.
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