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Àŧùl Nov 12
Maybe I am unlovable,
But not because I'm staunch,
Probably 'cause I'm too different,
And you search for someone familiar,
Someone humble who'll accommodate,
Person who you would proudly date,
Or maybe I'm assuming too much.
Like the paranoid paradigm,
Someone incompatible.
I've experienced life,
Oh, I've endured it,
You walked into it,
And you showed some dreams.
Prehistoric is my love divine,
Dark mystery it is for you,
Hot fantasy it is for me,
We're so very similar,
And perhaps that's why we repel.
I saw you for the first time,
Such an innocent girl,
I judged you by your face,
And I was wrong; I accept.
I said, "I wanna take you home."
The elders smiled,
Even your grandpa did,
He opined I'd take care of you,
Yes, I would've loved it...
However, the friends you talk to...
The friends jealous of you...
Someone "educated" you,
Against me, against love,
You changed your mind,
So, what about me?
It was an easy choice for me.
I just curled back into my shell...
I'm just being paranoid or eunoid.
For you're young, pretty young,
Both pretty and youthful...
Goodbye, my dream girl,
Goodbye, my youthful charm,
Goodbye, my hope of happiness,
Goodbye, my plans of a wedlock,
Goodbye, my scope of a lifelong bond,
Goodbye, my love of life.
My HP Poem #2025
©Atul Kaushal
Jeremy Betts Oct 31
I want to barbarically remove my heart
And lay it like a horse head on the pillow next to you
Then challenge myself to get far away from you
Before the inevitable collapse from the lack of a heart

©2024
Malia Oct 21
The mantis shrimp
Sees all that I never could.
My creator, ever frugal,
Gave me gifts
Of word and tongue
But only just this once,
Bits of light cowed by the sun.

I peer through the window,
Too short to see those
Violet peaks.

I brush past reality
Like the eyelash fluttering past
My cheek,
Never to really know.
Occhiolism:

n. the awareness of how fundamentally limited your senses are—noticing how little of your field of vision is ever in focus, how few colors you’re able to see, how few sounds you’re able to hear, and how intrusively your brain fills in the blanks with its own cartoonish extrapolations—which makes you wish you could experience the whole of reality instead of only evercatching a tiny glimpse of it, to just once step back from the keyhole and finally open the door.
Jeremy Betts Aug 7
What's gotten into me?
Well, it's spite silly
Despite a lack of a vacancy
Much needed for what's actually important to me

©2024
As the rain falls gilded Hearts are tempered. They fell together but crashed apart
Soft nothings out of reach to pamper
The drops fed my hunger but never filled my heart. That's a lie told by anger the last line.
The waters yielded flowers beautiful but weak to time
Though they bare fruit and seeds without roots it can never last as do trees
We are the soil for our love and enjoyment
We are the plow of our perseverance and faith
We are our beasts of burden and sacrifice
Written in a stupor
Katelyn May 2021
I’m stuck in a rut
unable to escape
Full of shallow words
with no rhyme or rhythm
lacking structure
scratching the surface
with no hope of redemption
My words carelessly strewn
leave nothing to the imagination
as deep as a gutter
as full as a strainer
as meaningful as my life
will i ever get out
Liyanne May 2020
Each day I wake up
And let my messages buffer,
What if someone chatted?
while I was on my slumber

I received the usual messages
From groupchat's of school and friends
I read each message I missed
Until the very end

I do this every morning
Unless I don't feel well
I put some messages in ignore
and turn off my notification bell

I don't know why I do this
Maybe I want people to see
The girl that had always been there
Hasn't been online lowkey

I still check my messages
To see if someone's there
I let my messages buffer
To find that it's all bare

That day, I learned the truth
The painful truth that scars my heart
Even though you're always there
You are never enough
:D
Siren Jan 2020
How far
do you dare
to go
about

this dance
you mask
as safe
and shout

harmless little games
can't you
see?

Overblown

Overgrown

Forlorn

Witless
you oblivious
                dupe
Eyes and ears closed shut. All signs blended out.
Tenant Aug 2019
Art
I don't know what art is
Need to find where my muse lives
Internally
See what the lotus sees
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