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Coleen Mzarriz May 2020
She was wobbling and sailing with the strokes—she was just bucking in all the dreads
and uncertainties—she was just staring and letting
the cold flood,
brush her naked feet.

The radiance that persists in her core—yet discovering that missing part;
Where is it?
Where can she meet it?
It was the same twists
that drove her alive
on the cushions
that piles around her feet—
it was meaningless
that she couldn't
wouldn't
understand—the notion of
her harsh sigh—the suffocating uncertainty that remains; that stays—circulating another form of pleasure,
in her spirit.

That is the curse at night—it drifts,
it resounds,
like a futile, annoying clock—she couldn't eradicate.
some thoughts.
OpenWorldView Sep 2019
her moist, ruby lips
yielded the sweetest kisses.  
the taste still lingers
Just Alex Aug 2018
The distance is what makes it so hard
To be here, so far away from your side
To be here, as if snared in the lies
That you miss me as I long for times gone by.

To know what I had… To let it all go...
Your smile, your laugh and your touch
To know they are gone, never to return
It tears me asunder, it saps my soul...

The realization is what makes it so hard
To know that you were never mine
I could have had it, but I couldn’t grasp
It slipped my fingers, how could I be that blind?!

The shadows are what make it so hard
To let go of your memory and bury you in the past
I feel it clawing at me, it is screaming so loud
It won´t let me forget and it brings me down under its weight
As I measure this sadness in pounds
My failure streches on for miles
And liters of tears flow from my eyes
If only I could purge these hours from time...

And it is there, as it has been since the first day
The emptiness, the silence, the space
As time ebbs away, and life goes on
Mine came to an end
The moment I let you go.
I edited this poem so much that I think it deserves a re-release, hopefully its better than the original version! I´m thinking of unlisting the originals just to not spam my stream with what is basically, the same poem over and over again, but we´ll see what happens
Johnson Jul 2018
Who am I but a once was
Another potential that never will
Another thorn in the side of another  
Whilst the world seems to move still

Never to be born again as I was
Rather ****** back into the womb
By an existential forces violent hand
Incased in the product of my own gloom

The outside world seems lie just outside the line
Whilst populations seem to soar with the love and joy that abides
I ever more find comfort in the dark warmth
So much do I loathe finding comfort in such

Never to find a remedy for the monotony taking place
Thoughts become that of which those would make haste
And while alone you find a darker shade of life
You find an ever bleak view in the will to survive
Amanda Kay Burke May 2018
Revealing twisted thoughts that emerge in my head at night
Needlessly pouring my heart to you
The cold chaotic chess game that lingers
I wonder if you feel disturbed sometimes too
I can't be the only person who is this kind of crazy
Sarah Markbride Feb 2018
My story is written all over my skin, my poetry on these pages.
They both tell a story of my life at different ages.
They tell you about my soul and how I've never felt whole.
I judge myself harshly enough without people pointing fingers, how they have hurt me, and that damage still lingers
G Rog Rogers Oct 2017
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Revolution is in the air
Like a morning mist
that lingers

Cool and not oppressive.
©ASGP
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