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when you call me by my name

it’s a warm cup of coffee on a cold morning
the scent wafting room to room
the sleep in my eyes just falls away
and although I can’t see you
I can hear the smile on your lips
and I can feel the warmth in your chest

when you call me by my name
Stu 1h
In translucent hands
he reads a scripture belonging only to him,
and from memory, he'll rebuild his own illumination.
I feel my bones growing! I feel the warm sun! I am finally satisfied with my own reflection!
we're hungry and we've come to collect
don't mind what's yours, mind what could be yours;
there's such a thing as "too sweet", and
i don't think i can stomach it anymore;
don't plant seeds in my lawn and call it your garden,
i make my own peace with what i grow.
You call it a catastrophe the way the world is always raining down on us,
i tell you to learn how to handle the blows.

We aren't crazy, just out of our heads a little
our bones aren't broken, just a bit brittle
I know you want to hold the world down with me,
we might even find a way to do it
but don't close doors on the things you've seen
I know you want this to be evergreen;
but nobody with clean hands has ever learned anything
about tending to their own soil.
Isla 7h
we are forever secure in the insecurity of simply being
to hate is all we know
it is safety  
but what fool mistakes strangulation for affection.

although you have surrendered your icy grip on my heart
in the early hours
cold fingers still pry my eyes open
so you can seep into the edge of my vision
when i dream, you sleep beside me
when I breathe, you are in my lungs
a whisper
a steady rhythm
a constant reminder
to be burdened is all we know
it is safety
  
but despite that
i exhale
and i let you go
guess who's still surviving ****
Raymmar 1d
I'm dying inside
lying inside
pretending I'm not just along for the ride.

I'm smiling outside
I'm faking my pride
walking around like there's nothing to hide.

And there's so much more to tell too.
I'm just not sure how to be honest with you.

My heart breaks
my body shakes
and when I try to tell you
my voice quakes.

My eyes can see that it's really just me
unable to let go and actually be free.

Trapped inside of this beautiful mind
trying to pretend I'm not one of a kind.

And I know the things I want from you
I just can't have them until I face what's true.

Until I'm actually ready to start over some day.

Which all sounds good until it's time to pay.

Then it's easy to go back.

It's easy to backtrack.

As if I weren't able to fight off my own attack.

A one man self destruction crew
same old story
just made to feel new.

Same guy
still trying to fly.
Still running in circles
still stuck in a lie.

Still a dreamer
still a believer
still holding on
still born to be a leader.

Yearning to be free.
Of the pain
of my brain
of everyday feeling the same.

Looking for escape
for a small break
searching for something
other than heartache.

Starving for attention
lost in contention
hoping and praying
for a sliver of redemption.

When will it all stop?

When will my life change?

And why does facing the truth always feel so strange?

But it's not all a lie.

I've given at least half a try.

And you know,
it kind of feels good inside when I cry.

To feel that release.

To let it all go.

But I always wonder,
is it all just for show?

Pretending to be,
anything but me.

Holding on to a vision
of what used to be.

Holding on
to what I want to see,

because without the pain,
then who would I be?

What then
would be my inspiration
if I was no longer drowning in desperation?

What would I blame if I freed myself from all of this frustration?

And how am I supposed to just pick up the pieces after all this devastation?

What would I write about
if I finally found a way to let go of all this self doubt?

What would I use as a muse if I was no longer perpetually confused?

And what if I fall again?

Am I finally willing to see this thing through to the end?  

How does a man continue to stand in the face of a self imposed backhand.

Trying so hard not to drown in a crowd of people who only know how to back down.

Trying to stand up with a weight on my neck that feels like a thousand pounds.

And what do any of these words even mean?

Should I keep them hidden, never to be seen?

After all, I wrote them for me

But maybe it's something you need to read?

Maybe my pain is intended to show, that deep down inside you already know.

That pretending to be perfect is never the way to go.

That broken is better.

That not fitting in is the new trend setter.

To show off the insides of my brain while proving to the world that I am actually still sane.

And then… just for fun…

I’d bet that you feel the same.
Mollie 1d
she spread her huge wings and
flew up to the sky
she asked all the gods when it was
she would die
they responded in grief:
"your time will come soon.
but until then, dear girl,
you're destined to bloom"
I'm feeling numb. Disheartened. I question daily my worth, and the value I provide to this earth. Sometimes it gets so much that I just was to...disappear. To never have existed. It takes a lot to remind myself that we all have purpose, and we're all destined to bloom.
If one have a dream
Way to reach there
Someone to pull
Someone who trust

Some hunger
Some spirit
Something worth for

With words unspoken
Adopt the evolving
What it meant to be
Some water
Some fire
And some in between
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Keep moving
Burn this fabric
the weave of the grandest way
we wrap our secret selves in
and write little patterns
that somehow pushes apart
from the comfort of speech
to break the truth
into lie-able bits
that everyone can approve of
because they are pretty
then you will be hollow
with the desire
to tug on the dangling strings
that always itch
the nose of conscience
to be rid of the ******
the mold you have been force in
and you will unravel when it hurts
and you will unravel when it is quiet
you will become bare
just shape
just like everything else
and when you find
peace in your own decimation
a single flower will grow
behind your lifes eye
a memory of when you took root
in the self
a lense to see your life
as you mean to live it
Version 2
Don't try to change me
You're never gonna save me
You can't save yourself
Plan to practice multiple forms of poetry and I'll be starting with Haiku. Some will be traditional, but most will probably not. :)
The exquisite carnation blossoms through the thorns surrounding.
"The Flower of God,"
A woman's love.
Garden of beauty she soars,
High up in the branched cluster of pure love.

Hours of full care;
Sun shined bright, happiness it shall bring.
Handling, proper as can be,
For one shall break.
Decay, I become, manhandled and overworked.

Broken Earth she grows,
From the roots so deep.
Take a breath, I breath;
For I grow from a twilight sleep.

Rooted in the dirt beneath,
Buried deep through the Earth
In a beauty of love and disaster.

A flower with hope,
For the love of a man.
Where rain became a necessity
And a heart filled with grace.

His pure hands ran through the flowers in her hair.
Tangled and chaotic,
He wrapped his roots around her lungs,
one breath.
A beautiful put together mess.

A carnation that had not felt beautiful in the hands of another,
Grew to be admirable in the eyes of others.
For she grew through the rain and the dirt,
A beautiful chaotic mess I became.

Waiting for him to pick me up,
I gave up.
Gave up on waiting.
I grew my own garden,
Becoming wild and free.

I was free at last,
Realizing I don't need a man to carry me.
I opened my eyes,
Looked to the girls in need of advice.
Spoke the words,
"Don't wait, independence is key. Look around, a flower you see.
Stop and admire her beauty."

-Thank you, my love
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