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Wolf 7d
Light whizzes past my eyes
Colliding with the next
Bright hues of every colour
Swirling, hypnotizing, enchanting
All the lies, they will not save me
Fantasies left to crumble

Crisp sheets lay in front of me
Their words scramble together in unending strands
A voice shreds my ears
Scraping lines tie me down

I can't focus
I can't hear you
I'm sorry

My chest is pierced, to no reply
Shrill laughter licks up the blood
I'll surely ignore my punishment
And give myself what I deserve

At my only sanctuary
Numbers and letters invade
Just to eat up my time to heal
My insides are twisted up and empty
Yet I smile around those who see

I am held back by myself
Chains ripping at my wrists
Pressed against a wall of shattered glass
I've misplaced the letters H-E-L-P
They've been scattered on the floor

I can't focus
I can't hear you
I'm sorry
Apporva Arya Dec 2018
Each day,
I smile,cry,try.
Stumble and fall,
Still give my all..

Build a dream,
then chases another,
Another shatter then chases another...

Building myself along the way,
Wont wither away,
Even if there's no sun ray..
Failures teaches you a lot then success.My some goals get complete ,some don't. But now instead of being sad or happy ,i keep my focus on my doing because that what i can control.
Love can be very expensive,
so save your money up.
A bitter sweet combination
like lemon and honey stuff
Never ever forget about the prize
Focus from the moment you begin
Always think about it first
And then think again
The river of life
Will always flow through you
Into an ocean of memories
In which we all flow too
Tomorrow means everything
But change is here to stay
So cherish every single second
Right now today
Every heart needs a hero,
choices, challenges and chocolates
We’re all after the same thing
Wether it’s with a fork or with chopsticks
To believe in yourself
You don’t have to go far
You’re the key to your own lock
Success is everywhere you are
If you want to see, my instagram is @thepoetryprovider
Farhan Ahmed Feb 2
And yet forcing myself to think hard
How I could separate from isolation
Because I have used all the cards
In all the turns and rotations

I begin with death, no broken hearts or maybe the good moments
It goes on without any concentration
Maybe a task would come up,
Maybe hours of sorrow
something will just add up
The spaces of hollow

But it doesn't? Why is it all blank?
Why is the stare at nothing?
A thought of nothing should bother at all
But it still is...
It still creates a path to dream within a dream within a dream
And this continues to fall
I'd like to walk back to time when there is a door named recall
But there isn't

What if I am notified that I've got a mail waiting to be opened

What if I am told that my favourite show is waiting to be watched
Well, I mean If I am expected to mark a list to do that I could do right now
I would definitely find an excuse somehow
Just to ignore them and one by one I would have more excuses to create
More places to locate
More time to waste

Only then would I get past this awful taste
Taste of nothing and running, wrecking anything available to think
Johnny walker Dec 2018
In the last year so many changes have taken
the place has been hard to focus on one particular
thing
but bit by bit slowly changing for the better I
do now feel I want to try again
start to what don't yet know, suppose I'll have to wait and see to another day
I guess
Trying make go of things the best I can
You
I can’t sleep
I can’t eat
I can’t function
As thoughts of you cloud my head like a car windshield driving through a whiteout blizzard
They are thoughts of you
The words you’ve said
The sound of your voice
The way you look
They are all right there
But at the same time
Too far away to focus
I’m left staring at the ceiling for hours
Wondering if you’re doing the same
Glenn Currier Nov 2018
The last time I was sick
throwing up pints of ick
not once did I think of love
or anything above
that porcelain refuge
the object of my deluge.

Being sick focuses the brain
on the body’s strain
chains freedom to pity
makes one feel so bitty
all you can see is the floor to the ***
hoping you’ll be in time to squat.

Next morning when I hope it’s passed
questions arise in me to ask
what if this pause in my health
is no pause but a demise of the wealth
I’ve so long taken for granted
and I’ll be forever stuck and disenchanted.

Scarcity focuses the brain
like drought makes you ache for rain
or poverty narrows your sight
to the very next meal or bite
what you don’t have in hand
makes you do anything you can

makes you shout and sing
for that longed-for thing
you look hither and yon
for what seems so far gone.
Then you must work on relearning
to let go of sick yearning.
Written after a night and morning of the upchucks.  Writing this also brought reflections on some other things I've been thinking about lately.  Funny how poetry brings together seemingly disparate things.
Sehar Nov 2018
He's staring intently
                                                  at the task in hand
incomplete masterpiece
                                                 outlined (a deep black)
bitten lip;
                                                 - out of focus
I adoring His own
                                              magnum opus
hands;
ache to trace
                                             sharp jawline; a
defined collarbone-
                                            ridges and valleys
…..Gravitating back
                                           he holds it up for approval
dimpled smile;
                                               breaking dawn

                            "Perfect"
                     (hear myself whisper)
closer now, frozen tide
                                             a whiff of the ocean
                        tsunamis in my heart ; waves crashing

          (but I wasnt talking about the sketch)
he's the real masterpiece.
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