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Madisen Kuhn Feb 2019
sitting across from you
at the white kitchen table
or cross-legged on my side of the bed
is someone hollow.
not as sweet as a fig. not as dead
as the inside of a black rotting trunk
but close. i do not hold beautiful things
like a terracotta vase. inside my head
is a seam ripper that splits everything
down the middle. sometimes
you are standing in front of the bright window,
glowing like a saint. sometimes
i let you fall into an algae-lined pool
that i will not pay to have cleaned.
everything is floating within me.
i haven’t figured out
how to anchor this stuff down.

no one ever taught me how
jili Feb 2019
this world
it's too big for such a small creature as I am.
missing point
the one I haven't found yet
sweetheart
I wish I could go back in time
and make you happy one more time
to make you happy one final time

it hurts
when your smile is the only thing in this world
what makes me laugh
what makes me hope
what makes me love
and might never see this thing again.
lunacy
J B Moore Jan 2019
I am torn in two, divided yet whole.
Split in half, I hold both parts of my soul.
I thought I knew the answer— I don't know.
Don’t count on it— It’s decidedly so.

I should make the choice— we can never choose
Let’s flip a coin, heads they win, tails we loose.
—We lost— Let’s shake the ball for counsel
With out a doubt! —Or is it quite doubtful?

Yes or no, or maybe so, we will see.
Yes, I know, just let it go, we are free.
Are we wrong, or right, is it day or night, tell me.

Am I torn, divided, or split in two?
There’s a difference?— Oh if only I knew.
The voices in my head say they know what to do.

1/28/19
I want to
But then I don't
I don't want to
But then I do
The new girl usually kept to herself,
chose to be alone,
A few would approach her but wouldn't get too far.
She did all she could to stay low key and unknown,
At least that's how it normally was from the start.

Dressed in her favorite attire of velvet, leather, burgandy and long black boots.
Secluding herself in her throne of never ending isolation at the corner of the room.

She only had one goal in mind,
one indecisive boy she was after,
So certain that he was the answer...

Longing and hoping for the hesitant boy with unclear intentions,
to realize he didn't need to fear the love she had for him, without question.

She stayed stuck, glued to her phone
Day after day,
As if her life solely depended on any interaction made.
Every moment she would replay.
He was fuel filling her heart with more than what she couldn't have ever began to imagine was real to ever possibly feel.

Even when what he gave her was nothing more than a few rare simple nothings.
She would do just about anything if it meant he would stay.

Even if it meant not telling him how she felt
In order to remain as close to him as possible in fear of being pushed away...

She loved staying in her own world,
But she couldn't stay in that world forever.
She inevitably had to return right back into reality and face what her situation was in front of her.

Afraid of her new surroundings she'd never interact,
Many people come and go as they always do,
Wondering when she could somehow ever adapt,
She realized she may have spoken too soon...

A girl with a gentle yet sad aura about her,
along with a sad pair of lifeless deadened eyes...
Only revealing that both were longing for something similar.
Just like the girl she found herself gravitating towards this time...
Special poem I decided to write this morning after being off of this site for years it seems.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2019
At times I can be very indecisive.
One minute I can know exactly what I am doing.
Or know exactly what I want.
Then the next have no idea.
Especially having
All of my favorite things presented to me at once.
I admit.
It gets troublesome.
One decision seeming to be better than the next.
Venturing from one height to the next.
Each of my favorite things jumbled into one
big idea that seems to good to be true.
Eventually I make a decision
If by some chance I am dreaming don't pinch me.
Let me enjoy all of my favorite things in complete chaos.
While I pause for moments longer.
Taking in the sight of all my favorite things.
Stare back at me in contemplation.
While any and everything sounds good.
Long as I am with you everything gets that much better.
Knowing that all of my favorite things consist of you
nightdew Dec 2018
you make your twists and turns,
indecisive which route to take.

i pound the windshields,
hands in fists, thumming.

you hiss a profane,
steering a sharp turn.

i choke down a gag,
eye bulging,
tears a stream.

you peer my way,
hot breath hitting my skin,
droplets of spit splashing onto me.

i turn away reaching for the door,
the poison violating my skin,
acidity burning me alive.

you don't let me go,
digging your nails into my epidermis,
it goes deeper, popping a vein.

i scream with all my might,
blood begins to pour.

you yank me back in place,
prohibiting my escape.

i stay silent,
adrenaline pumping,
heart thumping,
brain throbbing.

you release me,
scowl neatly placed on your face,
dark brows furrowed, narrowly.

i take the chance,
slamming my feet on the dirt,
breath heaving,
i run, run, run.

you shout yet another insult,
dare i not say,
for freedom, i come.
take the chance when you get it, plan your escape.
julianna Nov 2018
Everything begins with I,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
These two words go together, my
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
They make me say or not be able to,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
They usually come in a pair, the two,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
I know that they will go away,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
But some days they just flood my brain,
Impulsivity and Indecisiveness.
Elizabeth Brown Nov 2018
What we have become is
'easier than'

Easier than fighting,
easier than being alone,
easier than starting fresh with someone new.

What if the only reason we're seeing this through
is some twisted form of convenience?
Some roundabout portrayal of what's easier than
staying home alone in our rooms.
Months and Years of preparation, dashed in an instant
through a letter, one Form or another.

We keep trying to pick up the pieces
because it's easier than looking into each others' eyes
and admitting we just don't work anymore,
if we ever worked in the first place.
The longer I stay in this dark place
the less likely the latter seems, if I'm honest.
I want this to happen.
It'd be easier than being without you.
Would it?
Would it really?
Or would it just be easier than starting over?
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