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Lyn-Purcell Jul 2

I seem to be deaf to the moon.
So pure yet cold,
it's soft light whispering deep
into my soul, lulling me to a peaceful
rest and yet, I turn away
Various seconds, minutes, hours, days,
months, years blow by like the wind;
fleeting and colourless
Am I not just a speck of dust,
a dancing vapour,
a grain of sand that will
crumble and be forgotten?
How I yearn to be more,
transcend through this mortal coil
to be free of any burdens
to not let my emotions gnaw and drink
from the pools of my sense
my securities
my dreams
and turn a woodland meadows
of light, life and birdsongs
into a blackened forest with raining
ash, brimstone sky
My quill and ink are there
but my hand turns to
that of golden stone, beautiful
but stiff
Still lost I am...
Where is the girl I thought I was?
I fear that all I've cloaked
I will one day become...
I know it's all obscure
But I plan to overcome


Imposter syndrome, a demon that is so hard to **** at times.
nance May 12
You soothed my raw skin with lotion,
but I know underneath your heart meant war;
so here's to the selfish, demimonde ******-
to the ones who'd **** up their own lives,
including yours.
They can talk all they want,
but at the end of the day, face-to-face,
they would kiss my *** and greet me with praise.

N.A.L
they talk behind your back until you come face-to-face.
quite sad.
morseismyjam Jun 7
I'm sorry, I'm not who you believe I am,
I'm sorry that what you know's not true.
I love you, and I don't wanna let you down;
don't wanna let you see the pieces,
the shambles of my life.

I'm functional when you're around,
my problems hidden 'neath the rug,
under the chair.
I'm functional when you're around,
but I crumble when you're not there.

My papers are scattered all around my room,
My dishes are piled on the floor,
I can't sleep cause the nightmares keep on comin'
And by day I'm just so tired,
and ready to give in.

But I'm functional when you're around,
my problems hidden 'neath the rug,
under the chair.
I'm functional when you're around,
but I crumble when you're not there.

I know that you'd care about the mess I've made.
I know that you'd wanna help me through.
You love me, but I'm so ashamed of this,
you can't see these tangled threads here,
I cannot let you in.

So I'm functional when you're around,
my problems hidden 'neath the rug,
under the chair.
I'm functional when you're around,
but I crumble when you're not there.

but I crumble
when you're not
there.
sad song. I wrote this months ago and hadn't perfected it. Turns out bad spells of mental health aren't good for writing poetry, contrary to what one expects.
Millie May 5
Reality tumbles around me
When at last I try to speak it
Alarmed, I feel an imposter
Am I deceiving myself?
Or is reality deceiving me?
Laura Apr 23
All this time I was looking for art

I didn’t think it could be
these words
Twisting and writhing in their effort to
escape and
Making shapes
Those strange distortions

The words that slip
So easily from my thoughts
Into my ears
But trip
When they reach my tongue

These silent prayers
These words unsung

They barely cross my mind
It pretends to be one of us, but it’s not quite human.

It masquerades as a person, wearing skin that
mimics our flesh, with joints designed to rotate and
glide like ours. It listens to the changing cadences
and tones of our voices, measures our temperatures
and respiration and blinking rates, and then reacts.
And when it behaves, it does so on accumulated
data, learned and converted into best practices.

But it does not have fantasies. It fills its shoes
with synthetic muscle and steel but never wears
another’s. It does not look at birds and wishes
to fly, nor looks to the moon in hopes of someday
making the lengthy trek to wander the gray crust.

It pretends to be one of us, but it’s not quite human.

Not yet.


-
by Aleksander Mielnikow | Alek the Poet
ry Nov 2019
he was an angel
whose wings were the whitest

then came the rain that brought clarity,
the rain that came from the heavens
the heavens that he came from

he was never from there
CAL Nov 2019
is that all you are
golden boy?
are you more than expectations
can you be more
you are not made to stand strong
you are made to look pretty
to glitter like a trophy
you do not get ripped jeans and grass stains
you are button ups and glass cases
is this all you are
do i know you better
safetypin paperclip keyring
chains
steel
tink tink tink
down the hallway
"golden" boy
you are worthless
fools gold
you are a disaster
y o u  a r e  n o t  r e a l
please just stop talking
your voice is nothing in the cacophony of life
you are nothing even in your own hurricane

you are a shelf toy
you keep up your grades
you smile in pictures
you do the things you dont want to do
you say "i love you" over
and over
and over again
this is your prettiest
okay golden boy
i feel like an imposter in my own life
Vellichor Sep 2019
I look into the mirror
And hate my vacant stare
But paralyzing sorrow
Keeps me standing there
I have no strength to leave
No courage left to fight
So I study my reflection
But it’s such a painful sight
I forge a forced smile
Has it ever been so hollow
The corners of my eyes
Are now dripping in sorrow
I run my fingers through
My tangled, greasy hair
I don’t know if this smile
Can ever be repaired
And I can see the fear
Swirling in my eyes
Some things can’t be covered
By a simple smile disguise
Of all the tears from laughter
Seems just tears from sorrow stain
And my posture collapses
Under the weight of all this pain
I don’t know who I’m looking at
I don’t know where I went
My real face twists with joy
It’s not haunted by torment
And I just get more confused
The longer I stay here
I need to stop looking at
The imposter in the mirror
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