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Dacotah Ashes Mar 16
I know what I am. I am a familiar to my faults.
I line them up each morning and sound them off at the top of my lungs. I hold them in my arms and rock them back to sleep every night. They cling to me as scars linger on the skin. They burst out during the most inopportune moments; breaking through silence like water through rust.
Mark Wanless Sep 2021
i admit my faults
reluctantly and whisper
forgiveness to mind
The cracks form on the surface
as I stomp my weight in anger.

You push back screaming
for the silence to engulf you.

And I knew I did not deserve you
I always knew.

Your skin now lined
with obsidian fissures.

I try to seal you in gold
but even I know.

The best thing I can give you
all I can do is leave.

Anais Vionet Dec 2020
I have several toxic habits - I know - because I read this article on the web.
It’s a miracle I’m not an axe murderer, based on what the experts said.

I use “should” biased judgements - when things go amiss.
I think about the future, when settling down to rest.
I obsess on defining the “best part” in each of my experiences.
I often think in poetic terms  - which has driven wise men delirious.
I have nova bursts of interest - which escalate into crushes.
I keep a mental list of incidents which, if left unmanaged, lead to grudges.

The flaws go on and on - God, I simply am a mess.
I need to face my many flaws so that they might be addressed.

Do you think anyone is ever perfect?
Is it like playing whack-a-mole?

So that no one ever ends up perfect - they simply end up old?
It's hard sometimes to recognize my own faults - they're like blind-spots.
Bullet Aug 2020
You’re talking too yourself
Causing a lot of the same mistakes
The problems you’re faced with
Stare at your soul
All the way from the eyes
Straight down too your heart
Shooting right back up to the mind
Embracing it all with whatever soul your will has left to look at with
Constantly reading your own book
Correlating corrections with so many errors
Concentrating on the void of the infinite mirror
The faults
The beauties
Loving it all
Till all of it
Don’t look in the mirror
Getting lost in a world
That’s really never been there
Talk to your soul
Tell it, you love it
Don’t look in the mirror
Searching for fear
Lupus- Jul 2020
You have a pure heart
So tender and so soft
Always putting others first
Before thinking about yourself
I admire that heart of yours
Always able to be nice
No matter who they are
Or what they’ve done

But I’ve grown to dislike it as well
Because you loved too much
You were nice to the wrong people
The ones who didn’t deserve it
But that heart of yours is too strong
There’s nothing anyone could do about
You let no one stop you
From doing what you think is best
So if you think you messed up
Or think you did something wrong
There isn’t really much to say
You did nothing wrong but believe
And if people weren’t capable of seeing that
Then they were either blind
Or too dumb to realize
How much your love is worth

In my eyes you are perfect, strong with your big heart
You are my entire world
But if you don’t want to listen and would like to know where you went wrong
I will tell you this:
The only flaw you’ve ever had
Is your excessive kindness
The only fault you’ve ever had
Is loving too much
I don’t blame you for anything, please don’t blame yourself
Nat Lipstadt May 2020
my grievous faults

~for SJR1000~

the sun is out after a week of island fog,
(different from regular citified fogginess)
days seasoned with rapacious, hard hitting
all-night-long-rains, steady winds of
fifteen miles per hour, made “outside”unattractive,
yet, even now, sun inside with me, writing you

listening to Tupelo Honey, sets me awondering,
have you figured out how people work,
uncovered the source of human misery,
so we can get that vaccine asap, for something
a 1000 times more deadly than coronavirus?

my grievous faults, many, well catalogued,
but one of the chiefest is a side effect of a
virulent ego that cuts off vision, thoughtfulness,
letting good people slip away, and when called out,
I’m aggrieved, my faults, they wicked, embarrassing

so I’m asking, you, myself, anybody else, eavesdropping,
if this is true, for me, for you, you got the experience, if

”It don't make no difference
Escaping one last time
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness
Oh, this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees”

write me, enlighten me, and if the answers are
still a fugitive escaping, no matter, just way it is,
no pressure other than the sixteen tons of mining
life’s coal dust vicissitudes, its mysterious way of tilting
the scales, then escaping, side venting, through poetry
^ lyric from”Angel” by  Sarah Mclachlan
Maja May 2020
What is the most dangerous, between hate and love?
They both makes us blind,
one makes us ignore,
the other makes us find
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