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Jeremy Betts Feb 7
Does the score even matter when it's no longer about a win
Past, present and future always battlin'
While I try my damnedest to locate a viable position
Cause really I just want to keep playin' or at least keep that an option
And for the long run

©2024
Savio Fonseca Sep 2023
Take the Fragrance from the Flowers
and the Garden will lose its Charm.
Take the Hands away from the Clock
and Time won't ring an Alarm.
Take the Violin, from the Symphony
and the Dance Floor begins to Sigh.
Take the Rain, from the April Showers
and the Ground will begin to Cry.
Take the Tidal Waves, from the Ocean
and the Waters will be Calm and Still.
Take the Landscape from the Mountains
and the Sun won't set behind the Hill.
If U take away My Heart.
The beatings are still there Within.
I'll Love U forever and ever,
As your Heart is neatly tucked In.
tree Sep 2021
after years of pondering in musty libraries and public bathrooms and on my bedroom floor i think i finally understand why the face staring back at me in the mirror is so unfamiliar

i am not my dark eyes, i am not my crooked nose, i am not my thin lips, i am not my rosy cheeks

no, i am the hairstyle that my mother taught me how to do before middle school started so that i could take care of myself
i am the love poems that run through my head all day because language is so wonderful and you are so wonderful and sometimes i can't help but experience certain compositions as many times as possible
i am the friendship bracelet that i wear on my wrist that matches with my best friend who would never wear a bracelet in a million years but did it for me
i am the whirlpool of love that exists behind my eyes that shy glances and awkward eye contact put there

i see myself in my fingers mindlessly tapping out rhythms from my favorite songs, not in my tears, but
i see myself in everything i mourn for

i see myself in the money i saved from my grandmother's funeral three years ago because i am too attached to part from it, not in my smile, but
i see myself in my inability to keep a straight face when someone laughs at my jokes

the years of pondering in musty libraries and public bathrooms and on my bedroom floor was worth it because i see myself in those too, more doodles in the margins of the storybook of my life

in the end, i became who i am because of you
humans are but mosaics of the people around them ;;; we are such little seeds if not watered by loved ones
MsRobota Jul 2021
Poorly-contained ball of anxiety
Anxiety
Overanalyzing every interaction
Interaction

I'll tell you something sweet
Sweet

Write down
antidotes
and compliments
and silly jokes
on sticky notes

Scattered
along the floor
on the wall
in the car

I'll tell you something sweet
Sweet
Mark Wanless Feb 2021
hitting myself in
the head with a chair leg i
sit on bathroom floor
Rollercoaster Feb 2021
People’s feet are hurting,
dresses and shoes are a size smaller than theirs.
They’re taking chances, and going to dances
and the truer selves are calling for help.

They’re dressed in their nicest,
their inner screams are the quietest.
Under the gleaming smiles,
their broken, imperfect selves are quietly calling for help.

The smoothest white marble floor lies,
in the reflection they seem to be perfect
while they’re numb inside.
Living corpses are calling for help.

They’re breathing slowly,
to cope with the swift dancing.
The masses are strategizing and scheming
on how not to call for help.

All is calm and feelings are suppressed.
Suddenly!
Chandeliers are falling,
glass is on the dance floor
and hoofers are calling for help.
With every move of my mop I am dying. People are stepping on me as they step on the garbage lying on the floor.
Wilder Sep 2020
I'm falling. And if
I tell the world I am down
No one will help me

I suppose it's sad
Tragic. lying on the floor
But surely I fell

Of my own doing
So I must stay here broken
And very lonely
Depression from repressed emotions I guess
Garrett Johnson Sep 2020
Naturally walked.

Even the alacrity in the spots.
Stars the undoing of nervous endeavors.
And pines made of thought thrown asunder.
The globes.
Softly speaking.
And smile fragile.
Then gone.
The spiral orb.
She waits.
In arms.
Tended to in black.
Asked in gloom.
Pillaging mind wasting.
And rest.
In a frantic sooth.


Garrett Johnson
Where'd you go?
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