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This world is celebrating a new found existence while I'm just calculating the distance of my head falling to the floor.
Its a new year, a new hope for the hopless
Theres a casual affair with the maiden next door
And when that doesnt work i know where the dope is.
Its Underneath the floorboards, next to my crushed heart and broken dreams,
Washed up fantasies and unstitched seams.
Because Ill be incapacitated this new year
Kept away from the pain and the fear
Of being sober enough to face my own reflection
Hidden from the complexion of my stone cold eyes, the consistent mellow stench that looms around my scars, and the blatant mistakes in the shadows.
The heart breaks and callous hands
That are both held together by shackles and brands.
I will not remember anything,
Plunging down into a new year.
Depression strijes again this year
I'm so sorry you're hurting like this
I never knew it was so bad
that you could feel
the ache in your chest
from where you're heart had been
before you gave it
so selflessly
to that girl
who lost it on her way into another's.

I'm sorry I'm not her
because i know I could give you what you want,
and fill that empty void from where your heart once was
because I know your worth.

It pains me
that you are losing your head
over someone
who doesn't deserve you
and will never see how special you truly are.

I see you crumbling over a girl
that wouldn't even know something was wrong
if you wept on the floor
desperatley cradling
your own bleeding heart.

I have tried to show you the reality
but it's too late,
you're already
far too blinded by the good
to ever see the **** truth.

And the sad thing is,
you are going to die loving this girl,
but you are aware,
and have accepted the challenge.
So I can no longer help you,
as I am already killing myself,
by trying to save you.
MKB Nov 2018
It’s been awhile
Dead light
And
I

Have you been watching
Little me?—
In all my corruption;
Has your sentient ablution—
So tried—
Decided to set me aside
In my hiding?

I grovel here;
Blind.
While You glisten—
You listen—and weave
Serene discomfort
Into a little-soul
Like mine.    

Supine and slight—
I trace Your patterns in the
Night and try to name them
As others have
Before me:
Dipper. Orion. Northern-light:
Compass bright.

Are they suppose to
Mean Something?
I cling to their instruction
And move nowhere.  
Your pictures do not wear the weight
That answers
Do.

Can I sough purpose
In their Recitation?
—For I have wanted for comfort.
I repeat the names—
Cardinal ghosts in dotted-frame—
But their direction
Alludes me.

Oh, You Pin-******—
You Old-Flames—
You Astute Celestial Hosts.  
Have You hung silent
—In all Your knowing
Just waiting
For me to let go?

Do You know the cold of war waged
Alone?——
Blueprints of rage have rewrote the
Geography of my limbs:
I am not my arms my legs I am not
My breaking
Heart.

My hands aren’t mine, anymore.
I have never been so
Stolen.

Hey, Heaven’s map of decussation:
Do You see me down here
at all?
Praying for Your mum
Eureka call——
To pull me past
My boxing halls?

You are all l have left—
to follow.
Tired of feeling lost.
Tired of letting go.

But it could be awhile
      Dead light.
Hopelessness is a heavy might:
But I thought—just maybe,  
you might—
Wait
For me.

I face you
In the night.
—Until I get there.
Me: the tiny nightmare.
At the edge of sleep’s reprieve
Before I face the mourning,
Bare.
Carry You-Ruelle, Flurrie
Latifah Nov 2018
when there's so much pain to bear
and you can barely walk
heaviness weighing down your heart

and then
you're so numb
you're so empty
you're so desperate
to feel
to fill
this hole

the hands that once suffocated you
look like help from heaven

and you'd hold them
you'd hang on to them

as if they were the last shred of hope
and you're so scared of letting go
frightened of not feeling anymore

you don't realize
you're only sinking
lower
and lower
while they feed on your hunger
they're rising
higher
and higher.
JJ Inda Nov 2018
tippy toeing around once more,
still all that fails is true
and lies are grand for while,
until, always until.
-alone isn't always solitude
or lonely,
but it is.
I see the words in the air
and when I reach,
they scatter.
I'm keeping quiet
and very still,
maybe something will happen,
or someone might come in and talk
and I can put the pen down
and admit it's useless.
ashley Aug 2018
hello
im sorry i couldn't love you the way you loved me.
im sorry i held your heart hostage for six months before smashing it into a million tiny pieces.
im sorry i couldn't bring myself to feel what you felt for me.
i tried, i really tried. with everything in my being. i wanted you to be the one. but now i feel like im meant for no one.
sometimes i cry. sometimes i feel as if what i did was a mistake. sometimes i want to come back and make you happy again, even if it means setting myself on fire to keep you warm.
im sorry for everything i put you through.
maybe im not a hopeless romantic after all.
i hope you find someone
Audra Apr 2018
He stands there hurting
But refuses to cry out.
Life goes by,
But I look up.

He can’t stand anymore
But says sleep was a stranger.
Life smiles along,
But I can’t go on.

He never sleeps
But claims it isn’t that bad.
Life says he is introverted,
But I make conversation.

He pushes and receives injury
But says he can play.
Life agrees and hands him a ball,
But I give him a worried look.

He won’t tell me anything
I don’t know how to get the truth.
Life won’t let him be
And I can only be for him.
MfP Apr 2018
Dancing
To the rhythm that plays inside my mind
Enhancing
When the things around me begin to unwind
Listening To the beat
Trying to make each step, every word, and my thoughts match it
Hoping
I don’t mess up and trip
Wishing
To be able to slow down and catch my breath
Asking
Why is it going faster and faster
I’m feeling my feet stumble across this stage
Frightened
I won’t be able to pick myself up again
m.f.p
Sam Apr 2018
You can change how you see the world
But you can't change the world
Maybe you can make it better
Maybe you can give up and let her
But only her can save herself
Just make peace with yourself
No amount of love you give can cure cancer
No amount of research will give you the answer
Your only relief is that you tried
That you'd put her first and everything else aside
But can it be really a relief when all goes down the sewer
Can you be satisfied with being a mere viewer?
There is no guide on how to deal with this
Her smile is one of the many things you're gonna miss
Someone write a guide on how to settle the mind and stop the chaos in my heart
Please do it fast, before our loved ones depart...
Mike Virgl Dec 2017
.
.
.
What have you done?
Nothing at all
Sitting here, as the time
Passes; as a candle
Flickering
Out.

What will you do?
Well at four in the morning
There is not a lot.
Except the cold
And the enclosing
Dark.

Why did you do this?
Well can that be said?
Honestly, and bluntly,
Straight out would the
Answer stick?

It would become lodged.
Because words unravel mysterious
And mean nothing all at the same time.

Who am I?
What a pertentious question to ask.
You have no right to ask,
Nor mind to conceive it.

What am I meant for?
Well to live and to die.
Make an impact on someones life,
Good or bad, time has no universal code.

What am I doing?
Looking for an answer
To a question I have about people,
And also about me.

Should you lean upon a crutch?
What if you are a crutch yourself?
What if someone took you away?
What if you merely were a crutch to a table?
How awful really.

But what is the matter? You've found it!
A place for yourself.
You see, you do not matter.
A crutch, a dime a dozen so cheap.

That is what you get from lack of sleep I guess, and lack of meaning I guess, and lack of health I guess.
A crutch that wanders, looking for what it means to be independent or leaned on, and if it is truly a curse or a blessing.

How silly is this anaology?
I think it is downright clear.
But I am a rambling madman
With an end soon near.

As soon I will be gone, this consious shed.
I will wake up this morning, tired in bed.
I will reach my hands and feel a change.
I will no longer feel; it is quite strange.

And I wish I could say I did resist,
But I did not.
For the immoral base upon my kingdom,
Is founded upon my thoughts
And actions of sin.

I laugh and I laugh and I laugh.
How little will do I have?
I am just a piece of dust,
Moved by the slightest wind
Of dismay.
.
.
.
Thoughts at 4 am
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