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han Jun 2017
The nights are made for thinkers, who need a quiet space for a loud mind.
June 27th ~han
closing claws
ripping off the flesh
of a shadow
saved in a corner
of a single
soul.

no room for an S.O.S.
in this glass jar
filled with despair
in hermetically
closed
words.

closed, closure, close,
such hilarious
list of words
suitable for both
love and
hate.

no reason available
in words or gestures
or thoughts or mimics,
but a single feeling,
a painful thirst
of freedom,

but this closing
fog
stealing
every breath
is closing
every exit,

like alcohol vapours
surrounded by flames,
imploding
violently
into
oblivion.

scared,
alone,
trappe­d,
wrapped
in a single
point.
Trying to get into the core of despair itself, in order to better understand severe depression. As difficult as it sounds, being in someone else's shoes has never been so eye-opening, so started throwing words together, maybe it will be of relief for someone at some point.
I haven't been near you
In half of eternity
But this morning
I woke up smelling of your love
And it struck me head on
Because I still remember
Every good moment
I ever spent
Wearing that smell
Like a diamond band
And I'm just so angry
And so hurt
By how much you
Never cared
So here I am melting
With all of these things
That I shouldn't ever say
Even if I could
And they begin with
I love you
And end with
*******
And everything in the middle is
Just a* waste
*
The only thing I don't remember
Is why I tried
Elissa Deauvall May 2017
Silence is unsettling to me
It scares me how loud it gets
when there is nothing
Phoenix Bekkedal May 2017
I'd never heard a gunshot until I had.
I had never been an orphan till I lost my dad.
I am a broken lot.
I find sadness when I'm alone.
I am annoying.
My mouth skips records--
I interrupt you when I talk.
I talk a lot.
A friend called me annoying, obnoxious, loud, and overly dramatic.
One of my best friends,
how could he expect me to be anything less than me?
Zero Nine May 2017
Running, cold, unclothed,
reaching, dirt dry lonely roads
I found you.

Meek, nearly silent
beside my quiet roar.
A tremble, lightning writing
across an already blinding sky.
When the darkness came, though,
as I knew it would, the brightest of beacons
burned good above the ill will and good
above the desiccated peace.
I sang to you sadly, honestly, of my art.
I do this all to myself, though, out of control
and unstoppably. Your knowing mouth opened,
you spoke.

The moment
I saw you I wanted
Your disease in me
...
Misfitkilljoy May 2017
Why is silence so loud?
Can you hear it?
Can you feel it?
I can.
If you can't you probably don't understand.
It's louder than you could possibly imagine.
It's like nails on a chalkboard.
It hurts your ears and makes you cringe.
Colm May 2017
You keep on spitting it out
From your couch "my friend"
Because you know where I'll be

Working furiously as ever before
Until all of the flaws are ironed out
And there's nothing left of you but your mouth

Just sit back and relax as you always have
And then comment on what THIS is really about

How I did what I said, and I said what I am
When I jumped up and stomped on the top of these clouds


Hopefully then you'll discover quite quietly how  
To have a sensible song tucked away in your mouth
There will always be doers and there will always be sayers. And that gap often frustrates one or the other. The speaking Vs. the action.
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