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Adrian Dec 2019
I’m happy to be here,
Alive and well.
I once lost all I held dear,
Tumbling down into hell.

But I rose out
Like a prizefighter;
Off of the net with a
Lively propulsion,
And into Death’s
Ugly,
No good,
Mug.

I’m happy to still be alive.
Not because I enjoyed rising above,
But because I
Wouldn’t ever have beheld
The beauty that has passed by.

And I know,
More is on it’s way.
So I can only pray,
To share this beauty with others.
Unedited. I’m really tired. I’ve been having a sort of a block recently, I’ve been really unmotivated. so I’m gonna sleep now. Also, the poetry on this site from everyone is part of that beauty I mentioned.
polka Mar 2018
For someone who has such a way with words,
Who can ravel them around my neck and lead me anywhere;
You get tongue-tied when I show you the same talent.
polka Jan 2018
I SPEAK FOR FIVE.
THEY DON'T ALWAYS ALIGN.

I speak, for four.
Talking, is a chore.

I speak for three,
They don't always agree,

i speak for two.
they dont have a clue.

i speak for one
it's not very fun

now i don't speak at all
i want my friends back
idk what this is whoops
Alex Nov 2017
I wear a ring on the fourth finger
I get asked who I'm married too.
I say A ring on any finger is what you make it to be.
A ring on my wedding finger does not mean i am married
Marriage is trust, love, committed to each other, vulnerability, no secrets, friendship and so much moreb. Marriage is promise to always be there no matter what, until death. So why is it that its called the wedding finger when indeed it could possibly be called the promise finger because are we not promising to spend the rest of our lives together. Even if one is not in a relationship with that person does that now make wearing a ring on that finger forbidden?
I wear a ring on the fourth finger or third if your one of those aliens that think their thumb is not a finger.
I get asked who I'm married too.
and idk this got to me
Monique Clavier May 2017
when Evangeline tells you that you’re dead to her,
you feel as if you are chained to a sinking ship,
permanently trapped at the bottom of the ocean,
and drowning has never seemed so sweet.
as she leaves,
you realize that this is the closest blessing you will ever receive
from a god that you don’t believe in anymore.
because if she didn’t walk away,
you would drag her down to hell with you
before you’d even consider letting her go
ri Oct 2016
she looks at him
like he hung the stars
what she doesn't know
is that he's the reason
the stars no longer shine.
Maia Vasconez Aug 2016
this is how you get right with god
on your hands and knees,
begging,
" could you spare me please"

this is how you deal with his wrath,
when you're pleading with him
and strangers turn their backs to mummer "that ones a sociopath"
and it echoes in your pounding head,
their grins and hacking laughs
"that ones a sociopath,
that ones a sociopath"
Cordelia Copson Oct 2015
as the days fly past us
going a hundred miles an hour
like a little red car on the motorway
they pull away parts of myself
that you once knew

and okay it's not been seven years and i've
not regenerated all of my cells like
some ******* mortal time-lord
but i've cut off all the hair you've ever touched
and the skin on my lips must be new for how much i've bitten it off

one day i'll walk by you on the street
and you won't even recognise me and i can't ******* wait
because i was seven different people in the time
that you were telling me you loved me
and once you told me that you knew me

and that was such ******* ******* y'know?
because i don't know me.
i am forever changing, a multitude of things
i am expanding and shrinking and learning
and forgetting.

one day i will walk past you on the street and i will not
recognise you either.
i will not remember writing this poem
i will not remember ever missing you
just like i do not remember
ever loving you.
i had a dream about him the other day which was ******* weird, because in all of the time we were together i don't think i ever dreamt about him.
well, other than the nightmares.
"I saw a girl crying, her face was overwhelmed with tears, she had the never ending cries. I walked over to her and patted her back. She glanced at me with tears streaming down her face. "What's wrong?" I asked in concerned. "The other girls at school are prettier and their hair is longer! They think I can't fit in because I'm not normal!" She cried in frustration. I sighed and replied, "Listen, No one is normal, Not even the girls at school, because you have something they don't...... Looks, Kindness, and humor, Who needs to be normal? If everyone was normal, Everyone would be boring! That's why they diss you, You are better then them!" I encouragely said.~
Never happened!
bucky Mar 2015
a person on the metro, six stops from their destination
leafing through a brochure titled How
To Get Rich Quick -
sighing in disgust,
"I was never allowed to go on the metro
when I was young," boasts the woman
sitting beside them, an accessory of
The Scene. a prop
(voice is loud and nasally, and the person - five stops - considers moving)
quick smile, polite:
which means, go away. or, at the very least, don't talk quite
so loud
okay? okay?
a softcover Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary is under the seat, discarded,
Sharpie skidding through it (four stops) at every jolt
of the train.
this is normal, all trains are jerky sometimes, and the loud woman
expresses her concerns.
an old man, older than both people,
older than anything really - coughs.
wet coughs.
the person frowns, but quietly, so
the woman and man won't notice.
(they are well-practiced in the art of subtlety)
three stops. the woman leaves
but the smell lingers
and the dictionary, having slid back
one or two rows for effect
a flock of tourists board. kids in the seats
parents hanging tiredly to safety holds
(be still be quiet keep your hands to yourself, mandy
a little boy of six clinging to the person's jacket with
sticky warm fingers)
two stops, and the boy asks why they look so sad.
what they're reading.
they have perfected the art of silence
but little boys don't understand silence.
the mother hovers in the background
sneaking ***** looks at the person,
wax smudged smile going crooked at the edges
one stop,
the boy asks where they got their hair
(my head;
he is unimpressed)
he is kicking the lonely dictionary
providing it with company,
or maybe unaware.
they leave, and the mother hisses something at them as they pass -
clutches the boy's arm.
the dictionary has been stuck on the word spectral for three days,
and the train hums to life.
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