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Fame Flame Feb 2021
It’s not what you think
It’s what I made you to believe in
I censor it
Paranoia pulling deep ends
My words are bruised
Coming straight from heart of warrior
Losing a truce
Counting days when we were merrier
I see them staring deep,
Fishing my answers and my secrets
It’s like I am, an open book easy to tear which
Can be thrown away whenever you would want to
Hold it sternly, it has stories of
scars with faint blues
I yell at my heart with all strength that I’ve left
To speak up against insecurities and deep anxiousness
Someone will hold your hand only if you put it forward
And leave you too,
If its fed with fake jolly smiles and pictures
I’ll tell you this truth,
If I’m ever being honest.
But that’s the thing....
I’m never being honest.
This poetry comes straight from a mind filled with insecurities and fears of saying something that she might regret later.  A poem; written by a midnight overthinker, who sees herself as a person who cannot express with right words when she speaks but can pour her heart when she writes....
xjf Feb 2021
The world continues to move
even when you are at rest
Passing us by while we are sleeping

The world continues to hurl on
not caring that you are gone
A hallow feeling keeps creeping  

The birds continue to fly by
semis continue to race the red light
Even when that’s the reason why
you're looking dead in the eyes
stillhuman Feb 2021
In your big warm hands
and in the smell of cigarettes
and that cologne you wear
that clings to the nice suits
that seldom touch your skin

I find that here
there is only safety
and the crushing guilt
that has always forced
my head down
and my shoulders to curve
on myself to hide
just how many scars
are visible on my face
-I find it gone,
suppressed,
blinded,
by your light
and your warmth
and I forget
its taste in my words
and its shameful existence
in my core
And I only care to be
embraced and devote myself
to you
Maybe you didn't put the sun in the sky but we could enjoy it together while it lasts
Emma Pratt Feb 2021
i’m so lost and
confused

tired of my tears
and my screams
leaving me silent

my hoarse voice
and tear stained cheeks
mean nothing to you

there is no remorse
or guilt
in the way you treat me

i’m sorry
you say
but those words are hollow

and hold
no meaning to me

they are locked in a box
deep inside my mind

is this what love is

you have broken me
and now i don’t know
who i can trust

i’m afraid i am no longer
loveable

my body and mind
are in too many pieces
for someone to try and put me back together

but that word
try
is another word i have locked away

because you have taught me
that to try
is to fail

and to speak
is to disappoint

but as you taught me
you beat me down
so now

after you
there is nothing left of me
for someone else to love

and how do i explain
why i have nothing left
and that the scars covering every inch of me
are from you

how do i explain
why i think this is love
Absorb yourself in serenity, and begin to sing
an ode to the things undone
and the absence of light below the sun

Surrender to guilt, and from your quaver I percieve
the ode to the things undone
and the absence of light above the sun

Rinse us
Rinse us
Rinse us
Rinse us

Rinse us
Rinse us
Rinse us
Rinse us
Kaitlin Evers Jan 2021
Wishing on a star
See my falling heart
Love seems very far
Wisdom, do impart

Cupid must have a sense of humor
Or perhaps he is very evil
We're moments away from a rumour
About to witness an upheaval

My heart is exhausted
And ladened with guilt
I should be accosted
I just want to wilt

I'm falling in what I should fall out of
And wondering what has happened to love

This is unfamiliar terrain
Everything inside is sore
I don't want to be the villain
Is all fair in love and war?

I have analyzed all our transactions
You're the one puzzle piece I'm missing
I don't want to misinterpret actions
The truth is hopeful or heart wrenching
oscar Jan 2021
a wicked, unrighteous child's mind
lies closer to the truth
than a noble graybeard's ever will &
here is that only, hideous verity:
death has the body of a boy.
an ocherous-haired boy, sylphlike,
unearthly, peerless and
other word to forbear from writing 'beautiful'.

guiltless people do not know that.

'irradiating one, let me hold you', he says,
and i let him. i can recall swearing,
palms pressed together and liquid lungs
settled at the bottom of a bathroom sink,
never to allow to be eaten again
because that is what holding someone is for;
(guiltless people do not know that.)

be that as it may,
i let him.
forgiveness was never
suited for me, anyway.

there can be no fallacy;
no fraud can remain a fraud
once they are birdlimed
by a fire-stricken embrace.
a mindless prey is what they become.
a devourer is what he always was.

guiltless people do not know that.

my eyelids will not yet sink over my pupils,
not until his hidden claws,
ribboning and shredding their way
out of his unsoiled skin, turn
my neck into bloodbath,
my heart into maelstrom.

what a blessed, glory-driven way to meet death.
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