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Eric Martin Dec 2016
Can you see the blood
Its all over my hands
Smearing every where I touch and trailing back to my crimes

Can you see the stains
It's crusting around my eyes
All I can see is red but soon it will be black

Can you hear the screams
Echoing vividly in my mind
Deafening my thoughts

Can you see the scars
Scratches burning my skin
Forceful reminders of what I have done

If you can't
Then why do I remember
Why can I never forget
My first free verse in a while that I didn't decide to rewrite as a rhyming poem. Its hard to keep it as is but I assume every one must think I am getting stale for rhyming all the time.
Eric Martin Dec 2016
I am locked in my head
Normally I would wish I was dead
But I just to turn on the light
And maybe have some thing to write

But there is nothing I can think of at all
Maybe write a cliche like suicide or a fall
Nah, to dull
I want to hit my head against a wall

If I start writing some thing will come out
Who would want read this ****
Through It Out
Get Rid Of It

How is this poem my hardest feat
My brain is going to over heat
I almost have to post it now, I could later just hit delete
I wish I could write like the elite
I really wish people commented more often, I used to be on poet freak and if you asked people a for help on ideas or any thing they would answer and some times just the smallest spark could help start a raging fire. This is what it has come too, me writing this ****, does any one know any other poetry or writing sites? wait what the **** am I doing asking a question right after saying that no one answer, no one reads comments and know one reads this **** either,  I can write thing I want on peoples comments because I can get away with it... but most of the views are fake and people don't even read most the poems or people just hit the like button so the person will read their stuff. I am in such a bad mood, its so weird I thought I wrote a good poem earlier but its almost like thats not good enough and as soon as I wrote it now I have to top it or die trying...Hope fully this ****** poem will be what it take to get me writing some thing good.
Eric Martin Dec 2016
Hey look at me!
Look at what I can do
I can write little rhymes
Just to amuse you

Hey Look at me!
Can you hear my please
I will write any thing for you
Even if its ******

He Look At me!
Why do you taunt
I will do any thing
Just tell me what you want

Hey Look At Me!
I want to make your dreams
I am falling apart trying to please you
I am tearing at the seams

HEY LOOK AT ME!
Just tell me why?
I will do any thing for you
But you don't even care if I die

Hey look at you
You are in so much pain
I want you to look at me
But you want me to do the same
Eric Martin Dec 2016
I look in the mirror
I hate what I see
I want to be any body
as long as it isn't me

I dream every night
of spreading wings and taking flight
or jumping from some where high
and the rush until I die

My body has become a shell
To pay for every sin
it's become my own little hell
it hardens to trap me in

I hope I am a cocoon
I hope that very soon
I'll open up to new eyes
and fly into the skies
Eric Martin Dec 2016
Oh ****
I'm out of luck
This really *****
I am stuck
how did I get here?
In my own muck

I am held down by locks
But my mind is still sharp as a fox
But I think instead I'll rub my *****
To get off my Rocks
And then wonder if I am queer?
Because I like the look of my own stocks

Now all there is left to do is cry
And wonder that this is what I do instead of try
While I am asking why
Even though I got here with my lies
I wonder if any one will hear?
My rattle as I die
Ysa Pa Dec 2016
With touches instead of words
Gently clinging to what would be lost
Unbroken gazes and absolute reticence
A softly given painful kiss, no matter the cost

The presence of doubt is inexistent
Turning backs as they exhaled
As the air cradled silence, they both knew
Thus the hearts are no longer ailed

Their proximity widened and widened
Neither looking back nor slowing down
Getting stronger while falling apart
No longer will their weary souls drown

They caught someone else's shooting star
Although previously perfect, they had to learn
It's better to hurt than to keep running with torches
Whose fire have flames that no longer burn
(Taciturnly = silently; Rectify = correct; Silently Correct)

Make way for another break-up poem ^-^
David Rosson Oct 2016
with yours words still fresh of say
could you have leaned in with something new?
or can you tuck it all away
and continue helping me undo

your words were once threshed to stay
for me to lean and cite to you
and what we've heard
is caressed in clay
pleading and breeding, dripping in hue

the fades are falling from the outside
repeating and bleeding through
with our words dressed up in shame
im feeling and reeling, being pulled into two
David Rosson Oct 2016
i put my
cup to my mouth
thinking
it
was
my cigarette

i
breathed it in
and when i
realized
it
was
not

my lungs filled with
everything else
and
i
drowned
to
the bottom
of
where
i
first
saw
you
David Rosson Oct 2016
every Fall i get lost at least 1,000 times.
the cold breeze pushes me past wholesome, usually landing me in a spot i'd know only in a past life.

if it were real i'd remember,
because i remember everything.
whether its getting wrapped up in your dark hair, or getting wrapped up in the way your dark hair makes me feel.

i've been too selfish for rationality or reason, and to be honest, i'll see Fall 100 more times before that changes.
but a person like me will get high off of the nostalgia in the air before i notice anything burning.

dead leaves fall from trees marked with growing pains this time of year.
between past occasions and now, everything is too relevant for me to think of.

if i were ever dead like you,
i'd feel less at home.
and if you were ever dead like me,
i'd feel like i never had one at all.
David Rosson Oct 2016
never in a thousand lifetimes
could i scrape the well of reason
and fill my bucket with enough fragments of will
to testify to you
all of the things that have happened inside of me
since ive heard you speak my name
since ive felt your embrace on my identity
since ive crawled across you depth and vibrations

the same vibration that rattled the marrow free from my bones
and my soul free from the candle's wick

the night has been torn into paragraphs
that we utter like a million vows
that substantiate sanction
and quarrel with the absence of everything i've known
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