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basil Feb 2021
your mother tongue never needed to distinguish between
house and home
i miss you every day, maria </3
Isabine Apr 2020
wait here alone,
in breathless nothing.
If you tap me,
I’ll shiver like lightning,
or melt like daylight,
or implode like a star,
consumed by the weight of my own gravity.
I am not formed to be caressed,
but would die,
just to be touched,
for a blazing instant,
by you
Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
You watch them implode a building that you helped build!
Written the other day after watching the implosion of the Capitol Plaza Tower in Frankfort, Kentucky. I worked on the interior/wall crew which did all the track & stud, drywall and drywall finishing. It was there where I learned that I didn't care for construction. But, I did make some great friends, money and experiences.

I had hitch hiked up there from Florida on the promise of a job from a HS pal of mine named Louis. He and I always had always great adventures and this one didn't disappoint.

I may make a series of these ...
I'd bet there is a BAZILLION of them floating around in my head
Maxine Rosenfeld Jan 2018
I am a pariah. Some see me as a joke, some see me as a mystery, some see me as a hot mess. But they all see me and refuse to stop seeing me. They unforgivingly gape and gawk at me.

Everyone has their own version of the story, and I cannot tell you how many times I have been told that my version is wrong. They seem to forget that after all, it is my story, but then they remember, and then they stare.

The few people that I have left continue to attempt to explain that this will all blow over with time. It has been three months since the incident occurred. Three months of staring, stories, and acting as if I’m not hearing their versions. As if I’m not hearing them call me a ****. As if I’m not hearing them say that I liked what he did to me. As if I’m supposed to sit there and act like their condolences are genuine and fake a smile, just for them.

At this point, I am unsure if they are even staring anymore. I am uncertain if it is all in my head, or if this is what my life will be now. I am unsure if I will ever be able to be just looked over again. I am unsure of myself and my choices and my thoughts. I don’t even know if they are mine anymore.  

Sometimes I wish that I could implode and make a colossal scene, but then I remember that it would just make the stares last longer. So I sit there, stuck, having to take the stares and hear their stories and listen to my uncertainty. Because after all I am just another one of their stories, and subsequently I will eventually disappear again.
Jordan Fischer Jun 2016
Who do you call when there is no one to call?
Your last friend that catches your sense of humour, dies without a sense of humour
The friend that generally made up all of your contacts

Calls beforehand of daily progress always went answered to a mother who no longer exists
They were followed by a friend who absorbed everything said
These absorptions poisoned the well of humour and goodwill that you befriended in the first place

Your contacts list might grow in the days ahead
But the optimism that that idea requires to believe in  and the failed rate of your previous confidants make you feel you should protect all
Keep everything within, never explode.
Hopefully implode.
Ambika Jois May 2016
I wonder if you could tell me
What you saw in my eyes on day one
The day we met had a warm summer breeze
But what did you see under our setting sun?

I ponder until my sky has darkened
What you heard that you didn’t want to let go of
The night we sat in Aya with our eyes widened
But what did you hear through the music of love?

I squander my imagination out of reach
What you could’ve felt on our last embrace
Over the clouds, mourning mountains and seas
But what did you feel about the memories we couldn’t erase?

I surrender my thoughts and dream from yesteryear
What stopped us from erupting every single day?
Through our implosions, we’ve turned igneous and seared
But what good are we if we can’t make it through today?
I wonder, if the quiet and serene Aogashima were to break her silence from 1785 and throw her heat out, how would it appear?
This poem is based on one of my repressed emotions that I felt was connecting with the peaceful yet secretly building Aogashima.

For full intro, visit -
Tins Nox Feb 2015
they always tell you
"reach for the moon -
if you miss,
you'll land among stars."

what they fail to mention is that
the moon needs light from
the sun
          to shine.
and the light from the stars
takes billions of years
to reach us;
but first
                  they must implode.
Lenore Lux Oct 2014
In my eyes I rescue the heat in my chest

Crushed inside under one collapsed lung

Living in glow, so faintly, off of my breath

A mirror placed before me in silence I can

Only see deep  so when I look, lonely,

what do I see?

A shred of truth

With what could I bring

a pulse of truth from so low

up to the level?

I've seen a little light through the crack at night,

when the others relieve

the drinks that put them in bed, maybe I’ll use that

old song to move on and when I implode,

would any blame me?
pookie May 2014
Emotional explosion,
HAHA too ******* right,
****** up right,
Just sat here steaming,
Boiling to a point of losing control,
Boom Explosion.

Its all there just under my skin,

now its raising,
it comes,

its coming haha,
nothing i can do now,
better to just let it go.

this is what happens,
with no sleep and just nightmares,
this is what happens,
when you have nothing and no one.

this is it.
its time.


theres nothing left.
no breaks,
no control.
a mish mash of emotions, I'm sick of holding in and only showing the mask that people want to see.

— The End —