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Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
My heart is slowly falling to pieces
Breaking more each day
I don't understand what I did wrong
But something drove you away

It has to be my fault you fled
I guess you have grown tired
Sick of looking at the one thing
You used to above all else desire

It has been a long time coming
Suspected from the very start
That one day you would come to your senses
Pack your bags and depart

The melodic tones of your voice linger
Echoes haunting my head
Silence keeps me up at night
Restless in my empty bed

The beat of my heart is feeble
I wonder if I am dying
Begging for a shred of relief
But the pain keeps amplifying

Losing track of the days passing by
Irrelevant time spins around
The ticks of the hands moving on clocks
Become another meaningless sound

All I can feel is the throbbing ache
Resonating through my heavy heart
Paralyzed by the grip of agony
As my entire world is torn apart
I hate every second of this
Traveler Sep 2020
And there I was hanging
Eternity beneath my feet
One handed white knuckle
One tight grip on reality

And so I wonder where
My strength comes from
And who will catch me
When I lose my grip

I never knew I could fly.
Traveler Tim
Grey May 2020
As sleep overcomes me,
my unsteady hands loosen their grip on the locket
and it slides through my fingers
and falls to the ground.
5/28/2020
lost the last promise I gripped, slipping, the losses now fixed


homeless, nameless, tragicomic living past the place where scavenging doesn’t last.

ready supply of wretchedness unlimited, shopping cart full of your discards skimmed.

no more we say that evil Oh God, words over exercised, gone, excised, fk-you-exorcised.

lost the remaining of the last promise gripped, the losses are ice in July, fixed.

my suburban brain, burned, the volunteer firemen failed to care, appear.

put my past you, you, exhibited the lesser lesson, the faun ceased dancing.

my cunning can’t be higher’d, hired, arm won’t raise/rise over the wind head.

where the bloodlines went, just veins who purposely are no deafened,  dumb, silenced.

no depth, no plumb line necessary, for measuring the deep, the last pairing.

ditched the muse, the witch *****, who offers tantalizing sweets, poison too, nicely spoiled.
Ingram Feb 2020
The space between us
is substantially bigger,
and your tight grip  
is no longer pinned to my emotional trigger.

You knew that in the past
I would have jumped off a ledge for you,
but now I am strong enough
to say ***** you, too.
Harley Hucof Oct 2019
" He is losing his grip "
- Oh!! Is there a grip now? No body said anything about a grip.

           Words Of Harfouchism.
What grip?
LC Sep 2019
sadness grips my neck in a choke-hold
its hands cold and rough to the point in which
I don't know if I can escape with life left in me.
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