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gabrielle Jan 2019
homesick for the home
that never been mine

homesick for the home
that never existed

missing you
that never been mine

you exist
but you were still not mine

you are my house i go back to
but never my home

you exist
but never was my home
" I am missing someone whom I love. I have loved someone who is my home, whereas, this home never existed. And my home that never existed, was never really mine. "

(i really have problems with repetitions)
afteryourimbaud Dec 2018
we are always
aspired to
be god,

look at how
we systematically
programmed the school,
the difference with a factory?

we are always
aspired to
be god,

check on how
we systematically
organized the prison,
harmless for the society?

we are always
aspired to
be god,

look at how
we unashamedly
arranged the tv and radio
pursuing the utopian future?

we are always
aspired to
be god,

check on how
we unashamedly
clear the forest and rebuild,
as if we care for the community?

we have never stop at
avoiding the eventual fate
trying to take everything
under control
and forgetting our actual role.

the luckless ones
gaze into the empty sky.
afteryourimbaud Dec 2018
spill
a glass
of water
on the floor,
quit staring
and leave it
as it is.

interdependent.
Sehar Bajwa Dec 2018
how many times
must one
die
E
X
I
S
T
I
N
G
before they remember
how to
L I V E
?
merry Christmas
Emma Nov 2018
A train station is like a second home to me.
It’s where I last saw you, as you walked away
For a train that would take you so far astray.
Tell me, did you ever look back
to see me standing there on that platform?
Did you ever have a last glance, my friend?

I did not realise then that that would be the last time
That I would see you, my friend.
Even though you exist still,
You’re not at home anymore.
You are not my friend that got on that train.
Does my friend exist at all?

Since you turned away to that train,
The world has changed you, my friend.
You’re no longer the innocent one
That once held my hand through it all.
The world has turned you as cold as an icy winter
Since I last saw you, my friend.

Train stations are now a familiar echo to me.
I travel to them,
One after the other,
Searching for the person that I once knew.
They do not spare me of the knowledge
That you are long since gone, aren’t you my friend?

Standing on the platform so that I could watch you go,
I could never have imagined how much
The world would change us.
You no longer exist in the sweet hue of my memories,
But instead, lie in the barren desert
Of my depleting mentality, as you’re no longer my friend.
Marianna Nov 2018
i am the dark nights and the pouring rain,
the leftovers and the wine stains
i am the cold weather and a forgotten dream,
the 3 am coffee or your 3 am screams

i am a ghost or an empty feeling, or
i might be hanging from the ceiling
i am in the corner or right next to you, or
i could be lying six feet under you
i do not exist
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