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Caitie Mar 2019
Where are you
And why haven’t I seen you in weeks?
Where are you
And your toxic nature?
I miss you sinking into my skin.
Its a seemingly impossible proportion
I’ve taken upon myself
And the stars aren’t aligned for me
So tell me why I do the things I do
When you’re around.
This is what happens
When I think about you
This is what happens
When the waves are at high tide
And full force
Ready to submerge anything in their path.
Because all I do is crumble
Because the thoughts of you are so
You’ve nestled between my skin
You’ve dug yourself a path
In what I thought
Was the utmost private of
All the passageways of my being.
I’ve never told you that I was scared.
I’ve never told you how I’m wrecked.
I’ve never told you I’m in shambles
Over someone who isn’t broken over me
I’m terrified of what ill do
Once you’re gone.
But maybe I’ll be free
Maybe I’ll thrive.
I was young
But this love has made me age
Beyond my years.
And I don’t know
If I’ll ever get back to a place
Where I learn to love myself.
Everything you’ve said
Will stay with me forever.
Never forget what you’ve done
And how conflicted you’ve left me
With myself.
My heart was never meant for this. 
I don’t like this.
But this is all I’ve ever known
And I can’t make new memories
With a life I don’t know how to live.
So, tell me.
Where are you?
Where am I?
When I’m lost inside my own mind.
Sorry this is so lengthy. Just been battling myself for quite awhile now.
Broadsky Jan 2018
I remember sometimes I'd try everything in my power to get you to laugh, and how sometimes it didn't work. Yet there were those special moments in between the lack of reciprocation and fights I'd get you to give me that look. I walk up to you
"Hey my friends are having a party tonight and I know we just met but it'd be cool if you came." We were dating well past a year at this point, flash forward three hours and we're drunk sitting on couches with strangers around us. "Hey, Paul right? I'm glad you decided to come" the people around us get excited over what they think is a budding relationship, you look over to them smile and say "This is my girlfriend..."
We ended not too long after that...
Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014
I think what we are missing out is that love is plain receiving, after all. People are clumsy enough to give it or lose it along the way. It can be sung or tediously written. I may be wrong, but, I think the problem we have with love is with who we want to carry it. We decide what is true and noble with the way it was packaged or presented, thus we hope. And so we pour out what we have, to the extent of our flaws, for the so called authenticity called preference. Then some would chase for love as though it's an adventure. Cookie crumbs are everywhere. There is no end to people who are lost, happily. And so we spend a little more time and energy, and money, tossing all to the ocean as ill-fated bottles for our forgetting, just to bitterly fail at it. Kind of makes me wonder how this *** I know found the love of his life. How did he do that?  Is it really just about ordering the right kind of coffee at the cafe? Or lying under that one auspicious tree? Perhaps, we're just addicted, frustrating ourselves with the idea of love returning. I think people, subconciously, just wanted to build the value of what they already have. We are not contented that there is such a valuable thing on Earth as love we can effortlessly attain. We think of it as an irreproducable need, like it is buried someplace else, in the distance, that one should say it is precious, that one should say it is deserved. We tend to precede the struggle, not knowing this simple truth: The struggle is after love not when a man is after it. We refine what we have, and consequently, we define ourselves. We don't search for love, neither will it find us. It already did. And it has found us fools. Contentment is true key. Love differs from hope, and hope love, and even faith. What we love makes us stranger; love keeps us sane. We tend to conquer love; love is submissive. It remains true to itself, while we are just being...ourselves.

© 2014 J.S.P.
Esherymack May 2014
sometimes, late at night
i lie awake, or sit, or even dance
i do not "sleep"
i might drowse, or snooze,
but only temporary reprive-
The Dark
holds its monsters and
pattering, clawed steps
outside of my candlelit chambers
and beyond the fragile makebelieve walls
of my lurking consciousness-
     light a candle.
     burn the Night.
     Smolder your eyes upon the smoke
banish my fears, faint light-
but do not destroy my peace-
morning Light, cast not your hands over
this black scry-stone!
Look but so gently into the Dark's swirling
and staring stars
down upon a ritual laid bare-
agate eyes upon the crown
upon the head of the young Oracle
a story for another time, a
prayer for a beating heart
in another place,
another darkened midnight womb
or perhaps an obsidian tomb--.
fill a chalice and not a mind
tip the contents to then find
a wandering flame spread to the wind
devouring those violent souls that have sinned
as such, topics change like Gaia
dear, as such my mind roams when
I cower in fear--.
in the imaginary arms of a
man I love, the one who can't be near.
Night sings a quiet song of insane
love and gentle terror, a soft-soft
sound that rings eternal
and lulls its listener not to sleep
but into a spell that gathers deep
within the core of the mind
behind the third,
before the eye,
but loud and deafening guilt
that keeps the shade-drawn witch
awake, and the quivering fear
racing in their youthful heart--.
Ladle the light of the stars above
into the cupped hands tonight
and sing the damnation back
to the groping clouds
on the black horizon, the violet and
blue and grey and white
swirling in cohesion and roaring into a wave of
conscious nightmares

i cannot deal with these thoughts
on my mind, resting upon
my heart
     my eyes
          my mind
               my very soul.
-the greybird

— The End —