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Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2022
The emptiness
In peace
Is not silence
One needs

Stay raw
Genre: Observational
Theme: Truth Of Life
Author's Note:
Science
Needs spirituality
As much as
Spirituality
Needs science
Look into my phone contacts,
Now press recent;
You'll see no calls to me,
You'll only see a few out going calls,
made from me, yet never returned,

My words fall upon death ears,
From the eyes of the humans to
whom,
I've lost their acceptance,
either-or
like a weaklen, I fell for their trick,

I get lonely too at times,
I think it would feel nice to hear
  someone to call me just for a chat,

No money to be a social butterfly,
So there's no social lites there to try,
Probably not a church either,
because all the members already
  have their own lives, sure you can
  can call them up only to get voice
mail,

I have no one excited to see me,
I have no one to catch me when
                                                           I
                                                  F
           ­                                 A
                              ­        L
                                  L,  

I must have many falls,
shown in my short comings,

And it's really not a loss,
when you're like me,
  nothing great.

I do suffer ruin, defeat, and failure,
I'm coming apart at the seams,
But you'll never hear my inward
  screams,

Just like the rise and the fall of the
  tides,
I've dropped and sanked down to
  my knees,
Then I'll get up again, only to
  continue this sorrowful pattern,

But I'll promise you this much:
Upon my face you'll never assume the look of shame,
                disappointment,
                                ...or dejection,
I won't give you that satisfaction,
I'll hide it with all that's in me.
(besides, I doubt that you'd care
  enough to look upon me so closely)

I came into the world lonely
And
I shall leave the world lonely.
~SacredInkedBlood
I have not many friends at all. I'll give to people just because I like too but you'll never hear them call me. I'm just another woman that's looked down upon by the higher class folks. https://m.facebook.com/VenjencieCliftonArnold  Author Ven J Arnold
Thomas W Case Aug 2022
Hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.
******* surround me and send me into a rage.
Lonesome soul sinking in the mire.
Too tired to fight, I might need a drink.
In AA there is a saying, Don't get too hungry, angry, lonely or tired or H.A.L.T
Cole Jul 2022
The line goes
"Would anyone notice if I stopped talking?"
I would think so but
Maybe no one listens anyway.
I struggle to find the words
And hand pick the chosen many,
I wrap them up with a neat little bow
But people tear them apart
like kids at Christmas,
Or dogs at a bone,
Grumpy when it isn't what they want.
I don't think anyone would care
If I just stopped talking
But my mouth always bubbles over
With words I wish to say
Like water on a stove.
I whisper at myself to "Shut Up!"
But I brush it off
Like the tears on my cheek.
Just. Listen.
There are so many things
I need to say.

-Cnwlry
Emma Sims Jul 2022
How bitter it does taste,
this measly meal cooked for one.

How mirthful do those songbirds sing,
as chronic singletons.

How blithely do those bridges burn,
over waters still and stale.

How facetious do those clouds roll by,
whilst dropping rain and hail.

How withered are those wilted whims,
to laugh and dance with glee.

How broken it does bleakly beat,
my heart for all to see.
A poem from a time of heartbreak and loneliness
miki Jul 2022
when i write
i always find myself wishing that i wrote like Lana del Rey,
making even the simple things seem extraordinarily grand, to be able to glamorize what is sometimes a painfully normal life
i want to touch someone's skin
and write about it in a way that makes someone feel as though they're touching velvet
i want the kiss we shared
to linger on someone's lips like the taste of their favorite chapstick
i want to write about love
so that in turn someone will lust for what i already have
i want to write about my years of pain and isolation in a way that makes someone want to rip their own heart out and offer it up to me on a platter made of shimmering, sterling silver
which, of course
i'd have to refuse
because what would a writer be if surrounded by love and admiration they knew was real, that they didn't doubt for even a second
although, the sensuality of the circumstance might be tempting
an artist without eternal, incessant suffering
is merely a wolf in sheep's clothing
or a fool who thinks he's a king
they simply aren't built to last

i want to write about my mid-night thoughts and for someone to think: Lana would be proud
miki Jul 2022
today i walked west
but only for a couple of minutes before i reached the old church that i've lived next door to practically my entire life
it's from the '60s, and as soon as you walk in a sign is still hung in the entry that reads
"Colored Church" with a cross underneath
i always loved it here
it's small
cozy
with a ringing sense of familiarity
much reminiscent of the people who gather here every Sunday
really,
it's been my quiet place for a while
somedays i come just to bask in the uninterrupted silence that it offers
but most, i sit at the old, nearly crumbling piano that's slightly out of tune
at the very front
and i'll just play for hours
simply to get lost in the echos of the pitch that's just barely off, but that's not unlistenable
it's become somewhat of a sanctuary to me
and i'm probably crazy to seek solace in a place whose very nature, more times than not, tends to frighten me
but maybe everything that i fear
is what ultimately will bring me the most joy

at least that's what i will let myself believe
She Writes Jul 2022
Tonight I feel as empty as the prescription bottles on my nightstand.
- Antidepressants
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