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Sydney Apr 2020
So I lost again
Again to another friend
I don’t want to get in the way
So I don’t
I stay in my place
[Hell, I even give advice]
I think....
I don’t know what to think
All I know is I’m jealous
But I shouldn’t be
He’s not mine
I don’t own him
I didn’t even know I had feelings for him
But every time he tells me
About his “endeavors”
I break a little more
My walls build a little higher
Because I know one day he’s going to do or say something
And it’ll make me want to break my walls
So I built a door
I shouldn’t have
I know that
But it’s there now
It’s locked
But he has the key
And one day he’ll unlock that door
And I’ll break some more
Honestly don’t know where I was going, just kind of stream of consciousness.
el Apr 2020
it's at 3am
i cry
i cry for help
i cry for love
i cry for lost hope
i cry for crushed dreams
at 3am
i cry in pain
i cry with jealousy
i cry silently
cry to be seen
at 3am i cry
i cry with my memories
i cry with my pen
i cry as the world around me
sleeps.
at 3am
i weep to the moon
i weep for the lost souls
the people i misplaced
i weep with the man on the moon
and when the clouds obscure
i weep on my own
3am, sleepless nights
with aches as deep as my bones
tears behind my face and
sobs behind my throat
at 3am
i run out of words to use
i miss my muse
i run out of things to say, that
describe my brain, i-
all i can say, is...
at 3am, i cry
(C) Elissar Mustapha, 08.01.2019
Flynn Apr 2020
This ****** organism
Flowing with Lyricism
Endowed with Witticism
Maybe lacking in rhythm...
But not in favouritism
Look under the skin
Why the schism
What is the division
Needless criticism

Wait... did I just become the villain?
Is there ever any need for judgemental comparison?
Isabella Rose Mar 2020
I am drifting away,
But in the hopes
That the water will take away the redness in my my eyes
As I lay underneath
Questioning my life
And the pain
That coats my soul every day
Will drown beneath misery;
that was only choking on silent broken bottles
And all the the thoughts
Of cutting my bones
And all of the problems in my life
Will fade
When the final bonds on earth
Are broken
When we drown underneath
The water
Thomas W Case Feb 2020
I guess I shouldn't be
surprised.
In the
beginning, the women are
attracted to the light,
the writing.
But after a while,
they hate it.
They get jealous;
as if I had another
lover.
I suppose I do.
And when I'm in my stride
I don't give them the
attention that they crave and
desire.
When the words and
lines are flowing
the women seem so needy
so greedy.
I guess it's not fair that
I devote my heart to
writing--but truth be told,
they knew what they
were getting
themselves into.
I'm happy to announce the release of my new limited edition book, Rise Up Collected Short Stories and Poems, here's a link. (Just copy and paste in the address bar.)
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Cheap printed sheets
On an old lumpy mattress
blankets piled up at the feet
At the head
Flattened pillows stained yellow
We were becoming bedfellows
Throwing her shoes on the floor
She wasn’t there for the decor
Just cheap thrills
Looking for someone to fulfill
Moaning and gasping my name
Anything to forget her pain
Even for a little while
I definitely cracked a smile
And maybe for a moment I felt special
An old  man claiming his vessel
She was a hot piece of *** on fire
I had no intention of getting tired
screaming like a banshee in the night
Validating my manhood felt so right
Afterwards she said
“ I have to go home “
I replied “Baby don’t leave me alone “
she said
“My husband needs to know”
Her heart was full of cold
Right there I knew she was a menace
But somedays
I wasn’t sure who was suppose to be jealous
Tyler Matthew Feb 2020
Having been brought up as Catholic,
I was always told that
God was a jealous god.
Jealous.
That there is no room
for other so-called "gods" in his churches,
and that there can be no room for another
in the hearts of his disciples, his children.
Children.
     Now, a man of twenty-six years,
I ask, I wonder,
why do we invest our faith in a God
who is jealous, when we ourselves
do all we can to abolish
the jealousy in our own hearts?
Is God so unsure of himself that,
were we to merely consider another,
he would reject us and hold us in contempt?
And yet, he is described as "perfect."
Perfect.
That he need not work to improve himself,
though we here on Earth
do all that we can to come close
to purity and perfection.
     As a man of only twenty-six years,
I can tell you with a certain conviction
that God is only a child -
a child in need of guidance, himself.
And I wonder still, more than ever, it seems,
why we look to God at all
and not to ourselves.
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