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Was it the crook in my neck,
Or the tension in my back
That set me off course
To start the day?

Was it my sore feet,
Or the dust in my lungs
That sparked a thread
Of anger inside me?

Was it, perhaps,
A dream I had forgotten
Before my eyes blinked awake?
I could feel my heart racing…

The stars seem more dull,
The sky, a tinge more grey,
My step with less motivation,
And mind, less patient.

I’m missing something
That I don’t remember now,
But I feel it when the wind
Runs around my neck.

You can see the goosebumps emerge,
And a sigh of relief push out
With a moment of tilting back my head
And eyes closed.

Today, I’m missing something
That I’ve forgotten,
But I miss it now more than ever;
Can I make it stop?
34 lines, 248 days left.
Jane Smith Apr 2021
after death
is there anything
but the soft patter
of the kitten's paws
against kitchen tiles
searching for its owner

is there anything
but the children
who run across the playground laughing
unknowing of what awaits them
what overturned tables
what fogged car mirrors

is there anything
but the memories
falling like gentle snow
across graveyards and families
who will be there someday
forgotten as well

is there anything
but silence in the unloved
early hours of the morning
as the stars blink
out one by one
finally above the weather
Jack R Fehlmann May 2021
tell them to me again
One last
I will still
I will be present
Whisper so it's ours
We two
I need to
Fall once more into
The song spell
Your voice
I plead and confess
An oath
This will be the last
I saved a place  
to cradle
the best most missed
Cherished
Thoughts like honey
Of then
When I was
Desired and wanted
Please I will be
Quiet yes
I will be present
After this
Never again
So much living have I forgotten.  So many moments I was lost inwardly focused.  If someone would only tell me moments from another time I would listen and greedily hoard the memories.  Never forgetting all I've missed.
The words I could never say
Fall as silent tears now
By tomorrow theyll be forgotten
But I can only escape them for so long
he knows its wrong, and I cant stop him. Ive tried, and no one else will. No one else listens. And we're all going to suffer the consequences.
Lauren Connolly Apr 2021
I bet no one’s called you that in a long time!
You'll always be Moony to me.
I guess it was so much simpler back then…
when we pranced around on stage and could hide behind names that weren’t our own.
Reno and Moony, the stars of the show!
Anyway, I guess those days are long gone now.
Even if I still remember them clearly.
Your hands were torn but your hugs were warm and no one thought to connect the two.
The smile you hid behind was similar to mine, but you wore it better.

Anyways, it’s really been a while huh?
Since we used that stage like it was a therapist’s office.
Better than therapy, actually!
Backstage we could share tears and laughs that lingered in the air.
That ugly, patchy couch that absorbed our secrets...
I bet they’re still in there if we went back and asked it nicely.
Although, maybe we wouldn’t want to know.

I guess it’s okay that we don’t talk as much anymore.
As they say “friends grow apart” and all that.
I never thought it would feel like losing a part of my soul
when you decided I wasn’t what you needed anymore.
Do you remember dancing and singing our worries away
on that stupid high school stage?
Did you know you were the closest thing to a best friend I’d ever had?

When other friendships have been forgot,
ours will still be hot!

I still sing that song in my head from time to time and wonder
if you do too

Forever,
your Reno
Journals stack up around me
Words upon words upon words
Does anybody read the lines that took me a lifetimes to write?
Does anybody feel the emotions that I felt?
When I filled these pages with a thousand words

Journals stack up around me
I keep them in storage box
Will anybody open them when I am no longer alive?
Will anybody realise what it meant for me to write?
Or will these verses simply fade away,
Forgotten?
the journals stack up around me
📓
Eli Apr 2021
you promised me you would never forget me,
did you forget that too?
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Clay Face Mar 2021
Meat

You make me want to get high and end something.

Your childhood shouldn’t be mine.
You apathetic ****.

I know you don’t care.
That’s why it hurts.
You’re father was gone,
Maybe that would be better.
You’re here, but not for me.
You’re just a huge tease.

Without words you flay.
Furl me in a calm.
Just to show what worth you have of me.
I’d rather be whipped.
At least then you’d use me.

Your always at my leash.
If I try to pull you to me.
You’re never at the end.

Endless release of my constant fill.
Never seems to bring benevolence.
Slamming fists, yelling to a burn,
Biting until blood, hurting until bruised.

You’re a tick I can’t rip out.
Burrowed and *****.
I can rip my skin open.
Dig in.
You’d never be found.
I’d amputate your from me.
With a saw, knife, or bullet.
You **** me dry, and never pass a nod.

I can’t scream into another.
Or cry with someone.
They’re nothing to me.
Cause they’re nothing to you.
I have no one.
Monkey see, monkey do.

There’s always something absent.
Turgid and deeply rooted.
It hollows my chest when I feel it.
I’ll never taste it.
Or have the chance to waste it.

Finding someone to abridge.
Is frustratingly crippling.
I sting just thinking about it.
You knee capped me.
I’ll never love.
I’ll never be loved.

You made me meat.
You made everyone meat.
Lucas Mar 2021
Allies: absent /Beauty: botched /Curiosity: crushed
/Dreams: defeated /Energy: extinguished /Friends: forgotten
/God: gone /House: haunted /Ideas: idle /Journey: jinxed
/King: killed /Land: lost /Memories: mangled /Names: neglected /Opinions: opposed /Prayer: prohibited /Quest: questioned
/Reason: rejected /Smiles: stripped /Truth: trampled /Update:

unfinished
wizmorrison Mar 2021
Crowds are everywhere,
Busy transportation,
It's about to rain;
I'm still walking alone,
I don't have any idea
Where to go—
Raindrops started pouring,
What do I do now?
Where do I go?
My home is gone,
They leave me at six
What do I do in this busy street?
A short tale of a homeless kid in the street.
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