A blink of an eye
A moment ever so sly

I peek out of my blindfold
A voice; familiar and ice cold

I see him clearly no disguise
I’ve seen the truth and it’s made me wise

The time to fight is near
Anxiety’s dead. I could kill Fear

I return the blindfold as I hear the voice of isolation
Sweet lies of comfort and relaxation

Angry shouts at how I’m to be controlled
I’ve heard this before and it’s getting old

I’ll show you a demonstration
A scintillating retaliation

I could get used to this; envisioning a brave foundation
Getting rid of you is just another part of my salvation
A companion poem to  “I GOT YOU”
Wyatt 4h
I know there was a time where
I was supposed to be a new light.
I remember a time
where we were the future,
but sometimes I wonder
about my own impact
and if it got any meaning to it.

I see people all around me,
all about themselves
and their own image.
They glamour and glitter their souls up
like they were ready to take the red carpet
and when it gets pulled out from under them
there ain't no foundation left to stand in.
I used to look down on them in a way
thinking I was some special exception,
but then my life collapsed on me
a couple times and now I'm
full of the same thing, blindly wishin'.
I ain't scared of much
but I'm afraid of a couple things,
won't you spare me the time and listen?
First, I'm afraid
of what comes next after this.
I'm afraid to speak in fear
of what they'll say next.
It might not be the right thing,
never learned how to interact as a kid
and I know that put me at a disadvantage.
I was the quiet type, observing
all the good, the bad,
the bruises on the backs
of those who carried the most.
I didn't notice it as an unaware kid
but now I see fatigue in my parents
who gave everything they had
to mold me into my mindset.
These are people who wanted
to live and experience life once and awhile.
Do things in the moment, laugh and smile.
Now my heart aches for my dad
because his heart attacked him,
it all could have ended just like that.
And he's just different enough to notice,
it's woken me up, it's got me sad.
My Mom used to be more vibrant,
the mom anyone would want.
I can tell there's feelings she's hiding,
there's a smile she always keeps on.
I used to be a younger kid,
blind to all of this and
although I'm still a kid
now I can't help but notice
all these little differences
combine into one completely different picture.

I know there was a time where
I was supposed to be a new light.
I remember a time
where we were the future,
but sometimes I wonder
about my own impact
and if it got any meaning to it.

Two, I know I'm different.
I'm afraid of public perception
in a world dictated by your publications.
I've done things in my past
that make me look at myself different.
I don't fit in, I can't blend in with y'all
when there's so much wrong with this picture.
Surrounded by depression and blunt feelings,
hurt hearts and people who shed tears easy.
I've never been able to
cry my heart out
because surely if I did
I'd drown the world out.
I know as a baby we were all
born into a world of strangers
and we're supposed to be
outward with ourselves to build bonds,
but I always got by with building up walls
and closing others out.
I've never felt human,
although my mistakes remind me.
I'm more-like a shred of good
in a devil contemplating all his feelings.
I don't want people to know me,
because every night I hurt myself.
It's grim, it's lonely.
But I'd rather be lonely
than have these people
stick around out of obligation.
That's a fear right there, number three.
I can't ever know people confidently.
What if you found out my secrets,
opened the closet and a million skeletons
poured out of it like a broken faucet?
What would you do? Would it be okay?
I can't be too sure in this world today.
I know we're all gifted an opportunity,
but it feels like
true happiness is only given to the fortunate.
What if I'm just the odd man out?
I've got twenty years of chronicles that
prove my friendships are in a drought.
I'd probably have to get high for hours
just to be able to forget all my regrets.
I learned early that a smile is precious,
but how can I smile when my life's gone sour?
I'm just a small speck
compared to these mistakes that tower
over me every single day I try to regain
any type of control over this chaos.
Cold world, but still no jacket.
Blunt force and it still wreaks havoc.
A daily struggle in the mind of an addict,
addicted to the pain that follows
all these inconsistencies we call a life.
We are pushed and pulled to contort
to the will of our intricate fears.
I know it's a blessing just to be here,
but some days I just wanna abort.

I know there was a time where
I was supposed to be a new light.
I remember a time
where we were the future,
but sometimes I wonder
about my own impact
and if it got any meaning to it.
rosie 6h
i pretended that you weren’t intimidating
when really you scare the hell out of me
snapshot conversations talking about greatest fears
and all i could think was you were getting up there

you are all kinds of wrong for me
but that doesn’t stop you from invading my dreams
doesn’t stop my heart from flipping at each response
doesn’t stop me from thinking about how we could make it work
hide it from her
what do i owe her anyway?

but she said i was a good friend
and she didn’t want your relationship to end
and she’s still in love with you
was it all just pretend?
she tells stories of your confessions and your touch like you wanted a future with her
but you brush her attempts at reconciliation away as if they’re nothing more than the whine of a mosquito in your ear

you’re charming, you know it
but your eyes have kindness in them
you’re entitled, pompous
but your biggest fear is not being able to help people you care about
you’re wrong
but you are so right.
i think i’m losing this fight.
i think about you at night.
i think it will take all my might,
to stay away from you.

because you’re wrong for me
and all you see
is a mutual friend
so that’s all i’ll be.

it’s right this way anyway.
i write out what i feel and somehow it came out in a somewhat poetic form today so i’m sharing it. thank you to any readers xx
Mantas 11h
He is surely serious,
Moderately devious.
His face is deluding;
His smile - accusing.

Deluding of His ways.
Accusing of the praise
You blindly give to Faith,
Like it’s a which or wraith?

This devil’s name is Fear,
Origins of his powers are clear:
It comes from Your mind dear.
And know: his judgment is severe.

At first, shade of doubt appears -
In your ambition it might interfere.
Like evil spawn, it is somewhere near...
Apart your sweet dreams it may tear.
Ya Boi 22h
The sunshine beaming from your eyes embraces every sight blessed by your gaze
However your sun shines on a bleak world
Dark grey and barren
Steeped in a cold uninviting air
I see mountains of bodies barely living
With black rivers running in the valley’s of men
But your light warms these bodies
And through your words my world changes
The slip of your tongue puts life in these men
Mountains of death fertilize seas of green hills
Black waters ascend up as clouds into the sky
Dispelling my fears of mediocrity and change
And If your voice could serve as my eyes I would happily relinquish my sight
My world would turn lively and bountiful
Your poems would paint the beauty around me
I wrote this for the girl who changed the way I look at life and everything in it.
She worked upon their minds,
Using sharply hooked fears
And soft feathered wings,
To whisper insidious desires
Into their hearts and minds.
With the bait laid, rotting in the sun,
They came in droves to feast.
The butcher licked her crimson lips and smiled.
Not sure how many people have read the Second Earth Re-Told, by Patrick Woodroffe, but that book had a huge impact on me. This poem is a nod to his work.
Went outside and pulled some weeds
then inside to fix my needs
a cup of tea a piece of bread
doesn't take much to fix my head

in my pj's the whole time
searching for the air so fine
I saw a man with his cans
walking to redemption land


I hid my self behind the tree
and turned again to look and see
in my mind I saved his soul
“your luck will turn if you play my role”

"food to eat a roof overhead
and when you need a comfy bed"
“no thanks” he said. “I know your game.
and to me it's all quite lame."

"for I heard you praying last  night
by your alter quite bright
trying to make it all alright
here I am and quite a sight"

"but at least I do not hide
or hurry to go back inside
my path is one you see as shame
but I am here to play the game"

"from what you see you turn and hide
but wanting to be at my side
to save me from my destiny
which is to have you look at me."
morning today
Standing here, feeling the fear creeping up my spine
Like clouds covering sunshine
Monsters peaking from every little corner
I continue the suffering from this cancerous disorder
Shadows and danger crossing my border
My pile of hope is shrinking shorter
As mortars are tossing shells of torture
I who said to be a warrior
Ended a mourner
Drizzling ink
Is what I call myself.

Have you ever been afraid
of Hearing the phone
Ring, or making a phone
Call? I am. I am terrified
to feel the void, on the
other side of the world.
No space, no clue, no
Entity. The sense of
Unreality and unsettledness
when connected to a closest person through
this Cold Little Device: What should I say,
What can I say when I do not see
your face? Or maybe to a stranger, an
Outsider, who casually speaks, "I'm outside",
"Coming", "Got your order"—
the terror of being observed, exposed, examined,
Invaded, only comes down
when it is over.

Everything with Speed scares me:
When voice converts into
Electronic waves and analog signals,
the Voice, no longer our voice.
When the telephone rings, the world spins,
speeds, mechanizes, conceals, suppresses, darkens:
the momentum of transmission, the velocity of
sounds, making thoughts and moods and
emotions faster and faster, so fast that I could not afford, predict or
prepare; so hastier than I wanted, imagined, expected, than I       than I   am, that I
become no longer myself, any self. The intimidating speed of
Telephone: The Moment that you know when
I know, the Answer that you give
when I seek: they are
Insensibility.

So Please, do not ring and do not
make me call.
Look into my eyes, and I will
Look into yours.
Do not dial, do not answer,
do not lie in the dial tone.
Write me.
         Tell me.
         Speak to me.
And I will wait, for an


Answering.
I am extremely afraid of telephone, and these are the reasons.
My friend can not understand, but I hope -- perhaps some of you can.
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