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Zoe Mae Jul 19
Everybody loves a love poem

But does anyone really have love?

To be a writer's to be alone

We just write about what we dream of
Zoe Mae Jul 19
Everyone always asks, how'd he do it?
A rope, a gun, a knife?
I always give them the same answer
His true cause of death was life
Broadsky Jul 12
1, 2, 3
There was you and me

4, 5, 6
your colorful bag of tricks

7, 8, 9
we'd share a bottle of wine.

These are the memories that send chills up my spine.

You were acid,
I was alkaline.

I used to pick the petals off a celandine, hoping
"maybe he'll choose me this time."

I thought our love to be phantasmagoric,
when in fact it was hardly auric.

leave it to me to always be metaphoric.

You impacted me in ways I can't describe

please believe me when I say this isn't my diatribe.

this is me trying my best to transmogrify.

my original stimuli,

you have no idea what you signified,

but

This is me trying my hardest to say goodbye.
numbers were always your thing
Zoe Mae Jul 6
I'm going to do the world a favor and not write anymore

I'm going to do you a favor and not fight anymore

I'm going to do me a favor and not feel trite anymore

I lied...
Zoe Mae Jul 4
You know what they want right?
Just another young girl in a dress too tight
Thin as a rail, with long flowing hair
Smile on her face, like she has not a care
Shoes she can't walk in, no man would try
Face so frozen by Botox, she can't even cry
And if she sticks to her part, she might do just fine
If she's willing to *****, she can actually dine
They'll chew up her soul and spit out the rest
Wouldn't you know, they took the part she liked best
But that's okay, anything to be a star
Anything that is, except being who you are
Zoe Mae Jul 4
This poem starts with A
The name of it is A
I thought of trying B
But that's second place you see
And never mind C D E F or G
H had a decent ring to it
I seemed self-indulged a bit
J well I thought someone might think this was a joke
K...this letter never had much hope
L reminds me too much of loss
And M reminds me of my boss
N sounded negative, and so unlike me
O screams optimism, which is for idiots you see
I've had two boyfriends named Paul, so P was surely out
Q's always been useless and R never had a viable route
S is for ****, like most of what I write
T reminds me of a cross, which seems so freaking trite
U stands for useless, which this poem certainly is
And V stands for violence, I heard somewhere it's his
There's plenty of Why's so W was my second choice
And X I realize never found its true voice
Y stands for you, which is never why I write
And Z seemed to sound good, but only at night
So that brings me back to the letter A, that was a lot of fun
No seriously I enjoyed that...thank you everyone ( all two of you)
The Pidgeon May 24
As my heart aches
Falls apart and breaks
I feel at peace
My emotions cease
I exist in solitary
Forever wary
Of things to haunt me
As I nestle into to a fir tree
I felt broken
I felt stolen
By the girl who
Whisked my heart askew
As I stare into my despair
I tell you beware
Of the heartbroken world
That is worse than the underworld
Endless darkness
Endless starkness
Nothing to feel
Nothing to conceal
That nothing is worse
Than the broken heart curse
Angela Apr 2020
I swore I would never be put back together by someone else again.

But when you’ve incurred hundreds of stitches
trying to reconnect your own jagged pieces,
you tell yourself that it’s better this way.
Better to allow someone else to be your adhesive
than to risk shattering completely.

But then she leaves.

Her duct tape grip is ripped from my skin and I am broken again.

I will have to learn how to put myself back together one day.
And so, I reach down and pick up the first piece of glass.

I will bleed forever without her.
Roger Mar 2020
As a young man
I bought a bottle of aged bourbon
leaving it as a reminder
that celebration was near,
but it became my biggest failure
and my expectations flushed
down like brown bloodied bile.

I washed away nights of sin with gin
and begged mercy between breaths
but even then I had known I'd chosen less
as I dabbed my hands with lemon soap
I wrote a goodbye note 'Cheers
to the bottles I never broke open--'
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