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Dazed Dreaming Sep 2017
Sometimes when I'm alone..
My heart likes to **** with my mind and play movie stills of nostalgic ******* I have no patience to entertain anymore.

Actually...
lately when this ******* occurs, I replace it with the hell my heart tends to forget.

Like bullet points...
Sometimes its phrases.
Sometimes its things you did that were absolutely ******.
Or on that rare occassion where I start to miss you...
I simply use the last words I heard from you and that seems to do the trick.

You remember dont you?


I was desperate and afraid of losing what we had... Because I still believed you loved me..
Isn't that hilarious?
and I most certainly loved you...
So I reached out to apologize, face to face and I'll never forget what you said to me...
It makes me laugh now, because its pure evil but its like a ****** up tattoo thats never going away...

"My girlfriend wouldnt appreciate us meeting up."

It killed me at the time...
But its hilarious now, because I was your wife...

But its okay, and finally...
So am I....

I stopped missing you...
I stopped wondering what you were doing...
If you were sorry.
If you missed me.


It took me so the **** long...
I mourned you like you were dead...
But now when someone speaks your name, or I hear your car outside my window...
I'm indifferent and I never understood the meaning of that word until.....


I repeatedly, repeated that small little phrase to myself.

Isn't that crazy?
that's all it took....

And like magic...

Surprise!!!!!
I don't ******* care.

Every tear that ever formed in my eyes...
Everytime I'd entertain a memory of you.
Everytime I'd hear your name and feel as if I'd gotten the wind kicked out of me.
Everytime I'd drop to my knees because I couldn't bare to live without you or what you had done to me...

It finally just stopped burning inside me...
There's nothing left for you here my dear.
No old photos to mourn.
No more desperation.
Its gone up in flames and i'll never burn for you again.
Lol this was fun to write (:
All rights belong to :
@behind hazel eyes
Happy ending
ry Aug 2017
everything is gray
i know how that sounds. played out and pretentious
some might even say edgy or something along those lines
and you wouldnt be wrong at least not entirely
to me gray means BLAND
gray means DEPRESSING and SOLEMN
gray means ME

NOTHING TRULY MATTERS
WE ASSIGN VALUE TO SO MUCH OF THE LITTLE THINGS AROUND US
I LISTEN TO MUSIC BUT IT GOES IN AND OUT
"what do you do when everything sounds the same ?"
"i feel like ****"
"maybe this new album will help"
"i think ive broken this laptop from pressing refresh so many times"

Refresh you
Refresh everything
Refresh it in stages slowly but surely
Refresh it

HOW CAN I REFRESH MYSELF
HOW CAN I CHANGE
HOW CAN I GO BACK
"you cant"
I TELL MYSELF
"youre stuck here theres nowhere to go"
AND THE MORE I THINK THE MORE I REALIZE
I KNOW THATS NOT ENTIRELY TRUE
BUT FOR NOW I SIT AND DWELL HERE
FILLED TO THE ******* BRIM WITH A GRAY MIND-NUMBING INDIFFERENCE
i felt it was time for an all caps poem but i wanted to format it terribly to get my point across
Spike Harper Aug 2017
Define the emotion OK interprets.
And when exactly people understood the comings and goings of feelings in general.
How can one understand others.
When an emotional war is being fought on two fronts.
Each bleeding ammo and supplies.
Wasting away.
Just slow enough to have the coroner turn it away.
Nearly dead isn't applicable.
And somehow managed to feel guilty for wasting your death warrant signatures time.
As if the words would change the angle on how others viewed your life.
Only pretending others care enough to pay any mind.
Stiffles the rest of any opposition.
To make sure the dark flames imbued regret correctly..
A magician of sorts.
Only falling on swords for too long leaves little room eventually.
A reverse porcupine that crys blood when forced into moving.
But makes not a sound.
Even this can feel like nothing.
It only takes a little imagination and a dash of humanity.
And when playing god loses its hype.
Will the mob desperse.
Retreat into that in which the torches were burning just moments ago.
Only they don't extinguish.
Just remain awhile for the next hand to lift the taunting relic.
So that repetition can further solidify the obvious.
Shoudnt be long now.
As the oddly familar jester sits to watch.
Death is always a spectacle.
Whispered so softly it was hard to decide if it happened at all.
But it matters little.
For silence is all that follows.
Indifference is a disease.
Stricken with such paralyzing apathy.
That A.D.D. becomes a standard.
Take two before human interaction.
Call in the morning if the guilt remains.
Only remembering to forget can get so.... Confusing.
Y
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