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the constant motion of her earth around
my sun
how can she not see that she revolves around me
always in my view
always out of reach

maybe that's why it will never work
i am stuck here
watching you move effortlessly along your path
i am stuck here
seeing everyone else move along with you

a thousand fireflies dance in my molten heart
each light a flicker of my fancy
trying to imitate your carefree dance
but my heart is too warm
and it burns and burns and burns
but no one can see it.
Patrick 7d
you don a guise, a shield from wind and sun,
and march across the sand toward the dawn

through valleys and over peaks, with no end in sight.
the journey is lonely, and your heart grows cold

until two cloaked figures happen by,
jumping and gliding to a somber song

the music’s beauty is incomprehensible –
sung with an unknown tongue

but still, you travel with newfound friends,
two strangers in a strange and endless land,
counting the beads of sand that slip away,
while pondering the meaning of this quest.

even after the travellers depart
you carry on, up to the mountain’s peak,
and from the top, you see the world anew,
the desert small, the music all around.

and finally, you understand their song,
the symphony of the journey: life, and love
i've a plundering urge
to whom it is absurd,
                     the black teeth
                     the blood scribes
                     the woe, the whither,
                                               the word
i felt seen   from afar
telescoped warmth  cups my right shoulder
and i expand from shrivel   in your forgiving light
are you my soilmate ?

for you i prepare scents   beading from my most sweaty regions
       a moist sporing    emits in nifty allium spritzes
i stammer to a standing position
                          and exercise my full height

           i swing and tap an annihilated aluminum bat
              sounding out my specific code of fidelations
                   resonation through the ground
                     and suddenly you are near
                    receiving the humming
                  up the souls of your doughy bare feet
                         you shiver

i prance wildly and perfect kilter in my hips
i offer to preen you
i present you with a pyramid of spittle balloons
i **** myself a little
i sink my teeth into side    (it's not 'your jam'
    but we recover the mood)
i give chase to you for you to be chased
and it's a wild kind of keen fun
         and you are a madcap display of laughter and wide smiles
and   within     i feel a gordian nest  
         of some lust manoeuvre 
(maybe we can copulate face-to-face ?)

pondering scars     wounds that were much deserved
the white meat    the bright stars    delivered

who is rude to the rule       of what is ours ?  
i knew you
magnesium burn    and unwholesomely dauntless
  bold   your portfolio always within an easy reach
your passionate simmering might    you branded my eye
and now we're similar    mites in a feather
simian partners surveying territory needs

and then you’re gone again

       and we are distant minds that strike the hour together
                                like before
between our signals I am met with cross chatter
my hemispheres bicker
and retorting memories barrage
        refunding the past
    and taking you away from me

i am a mating dunce once more
             i shrivel
neth jones May 29
watching for air                              a mad thing of static to do
unwashed  i hold it all foreign   my perspectives clothed as the enemy
an agreed muscle of tension       with pockets fracked into my hands 
i look out the window   wide agape guidance                                                     invasive drills of heat   the giving sunlight ; punishing,
a tree,   the grieving buildings
the whinging of cicadas
and here i am     watching for air

one point for the weather                                                      
one­ point for the view                                                            
­one big point for my ****** condition                                
one point for the passers by and their galling dramedies

and there it is ; the wiry plan that's built                        
from one small tickle of wild thought              
                                 formed long ago
trickling to the current day
some whipped wit of poisoned psychology          
     fed to the inbreed   (welcome   you panting imp)
decades of saved up fatty layers
a deed   of habitual sediment
retching until the tide laps become still
   a cured and congealed gladness
marbled, a butcher would say
i am full and hearted and heated and padded senseless
        turned under a heel   with my wastrel history
  i’ve accomplished this     a stifled condition
                               of poisoned obscenity

seated deep        almost fully incapacitated  
in my armchair   on this chummy day
my leisure clothes greasy     sluck against my blemished hide
a packet of cigarettes   to my side
rounded upon  by sounds of the neighbours affairs
with a gasp of energy   i 'skin one off' vigorously
my system trembling   with years of hard liquor
borderline   to a state of unconscious whelm
retained final       prime for ignition
i could manage a spectacle
a blinding flare
                                  a glorious incineration
and the release
                      of my true oder

i light a match for my cigarette
a glass bottle                                                                                  
         and not simply shatter       with  '*******' explosion    
(though it is an option)

imagining the worst sinnings in the rooms surround
miki May 24
my sister walked in the door
a grim face and no words
i’ve never seen her like this before
she sat beside me, dragging her feet on the cold linoleum the entire way,
three cushions down
and stared blankly at the tv
“i’m really tired”
she says she only got an hour of sleep
i didn’t know what to say
i had seen the news

i could feel the sadness
it poured out of her and sept into anything in its path
i can feel my heart slowly breaking
i don’t think she noticed
she lays down with a blanket
and closes her eyes
she’s not sleeping, but i didn’t know how to help
i had seen the news

i told her
go sleep in my room
go get a snack
go home for a while
but she never listens to me
i just wanted her to be okay
i didn’t really expect this time to be different, after all
i had seen the news

she didn’t sleep
she didn’t eat
she didn’t go home
she just lay there
in silence
for hours
i kept thinking about the news

i worried all day for her
and when she finally went home that night
i still worried for her
i cried for hours
all i wanted was to help her
i didn’t know how to help her
all i knew is that
i had seen the news
skah May 15
the loneliness is killing me alive
it’s feasting off my fragile being
alone, locked up in my own four walls
i’m slowly starting to go berserk
i need something, just something
that does something to me

a lonely tear rolls down my face
a trembling ocean underneath my eyelids
maybe i do suffer dopamine deficiency
maybe i am for being against it
and maybe i just have to stop believing all of the diagnoses of the frauds around me

as fast as the loneliness took me in
and the tears came
it stopped again
and the only thing remaining
was this irrepressible desire
for more more and more
Zywa May 14
It's always like this,

whenever I am happy --

I feel so lonely.
"Atlas shrugged"  (1957, Ayn Rand), part 1, chapter II

Collection "Willegos"
I sit with my back to an empty bed.
The TV showing only my reflection.
I hear only the whine of the fan that dances above me.
The air inside left with a faint smell of smoke from the previous guest.
Outside the parking lot is left bare and is nothing but a cold blue glow.
The orange sign above flickers and skips from puddle to puddle.
People laugh and shout jokes to their friends as they walk by my room.
I open the door but no one is there.
I realize it is simply my mind replaying moments of us going pass my window like my life passing me by.
I get up and stretch ready to start the day.
A bite of pizza as I search for a towel
I hop in the shower
A moment on the bench
but the weight feels heavier today.
I sit back on my bed
The covers grab me as I sink in to my pillow.
They strip me from my clothes and my will to stand up as I fall asleep.
Later I awake. And...

(Start over)
My take on depression. I hope someone reads this and knows it is normal to not be okay. But you have to break the cycle! Go outside for a walk!
Kamal Apr 13
Drifting through life
Me, myself, and I
Taking what is handed to me
Never asking for much
Never wanting more
Than a simple yes
Me, myself, and I
Scared of rejection
Terrified of ridicule
Drifting and hoping
To land on a solid ground
To anchor down
To feel your love!
Me, myself and I

UnfoundYet May 7
This morning I woke up
missing how things used to be.
I miss the warm and the comfort that my family used to bring.

Belonging, that’s what I miss
for now I’m only a stranger with nowhere else to be.

I have these memories,
and I wonder if that is all they’ll ever going to be.
The happiness and the calm,
they feel so distant from me.

There is this aching pain here in my chest,
it makes me uneasy,
it doesn’t allow me to rest.

I used to be known to anyone
but myself.
Now I’m trying to get
to who I really am,

but every step I take leads me
from everybody else.

But that little girl is all alone,
in the dark she’s screaming for my attention.
For too long I’ve ignored her cries,
too focused on the people around me
and on not creating any tension.

All this energy I’ve used,
all the dedication I gave,
it all feels like a waste of time.

For if those people knew who I was,
then why I still felt so utterly

maybe it’s because of my Lou
of the magic she creates.
She’s quite capable you see,
with her in two places I can be,
whereas before only in one I used to be.

I can be on the surface,
grounded in the present,
but holding the hand of that little girl all together.

maybe that was enough,
it had been for a long time.
But now I want more.

Yes I am greedy, and I don’t want to deny it.

I want to be in those two places all the time.
I want to hold that girl’s hand and tell her
that it is all right.

I want to do it while sitting at dinner,
when my dad makes his jokes.
I want to do it when my mom asks me if I like
the new shirt she just bought.

I want to do it when I play cards with my grandma,
and when I’m around my other friends.
Because while I comfort that little girl,
it is her who gives me strength.

So here I am,
trying so hard to walk towards her.
I’m trying to keep her with me,
near the surface,
grounded in my present.

She’s scared,
and so am I.
Sometimes she slips away,
sometimes I still ignore her cries.

It’s just so difficult
and I struggle to understand why.

How can they know me, if that girl
was never by my side
when I shook their hand, or when I made them smile?

They knew a stranger, an imposter,
that’s what they knew.

But why am I so distant from them now,
when all I’m trying to do is
presenting them the truth?

Are they angry because I lied?
I didn’t mean to do so.
I just couldn’t hear her voice for so long.

It pains me that the road towards the light,
towards that girl,

it’s such a lonely road.

It saddens me,
when the reason I only moved is because
I didn’t want to feel alone at all.

I felt not whole around the ones that
loved me.
I wanted to be whole
for them.
Now I am not whole yet,
but each day a little closer I get.

But why is it that always a stranger is all I am?
A stranger to myself in the start,
a stranger to them in the end.

Perhaps there is another road,
another path that I’ll take
once I’ll have conquered the present
with the little girl here in my presence.

Perhaps only then I’ll be able to see
how to make those memories real
how to live them again
as a new me.
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