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irinia Jan 3
“their mental state contains something lethal:
past, nothing but past” Nikolay Y Ossipov

you measured your height
with the mountains
your fists with the howl
of lonely wolves
to avoid helplessness stupidity confusion:
the all too encompassing human nature

I no longer want to keep you
in the alternative dimension
guarding your wholeness
I'll let you fall into pieces
I'll let you die the death destined
to you
instead of crushing him
or imploding myself
for him to rearrange his fragments
for me to hope for all the levels
of coherence
I/we are capable of

bodies afraid or in love are the most intense
I want my body back
from your battlefield of delusions
your pain is not my pain
your despair is not mine
your manic refusal of touch
is still my manic capacity
to love wounds tragedies
aborted laughter
some words are mirrors
I'll keep writing to you
till there is no escape
from the clarity
of dawn:
all my love is of
no real use
to you
writing can be therapy to decontaminate love
darklybeloved Aug 2022
Love is pain.
Love is sacrifice.
Love is waiting and waiting for something that never comes.
Love is futile.
Love is hopeless.
Love is inescapable.
Love tastes a little like the cold metal bars of captivity.
Love is loneliness.
Love is infatuation, love is social pressure, love is a lie.
Love is keeping your mouth shut.
Love is insults in private and sabotage in the back of car seats.
Love is condescension, irritation and disgust.
Love is dinners alone.
Love is silence. Love is two lives in one house.
Love is two walls separating you and me.
Kahou Eru Aug 2022
I don't  want to be alone
I don't fear the aspect of dying
It's just that everything..everyone
That I come to hate
What a weird ambiance
It's such a scary thought
For things that was all of a sudden
To be gone
Rococo May 2022
I really hoped I could love
before the glaciers melt and came rushing down my door,
before the bombs fell and held me in their warmth.

I could see myself kissing and hugging,
and flat out loving, before my lips ran dry,
my arms stiff, and my heart stopped going.

I really thought I would know how it felt to be held,
before time passed me by and cast me aside.

Still, the longer I wait, the truer it gets,
that loving wasn't made for us all.
slow burn Dec 2021
These are just words on a page,
But they originate,
From where I think my heart is.

The same place that tells me,
That I've always loved you,
and could never stop even if I wanted to.

The same place that shows me,
Those things in life that are worth living,
Aren't worth nearly as much without you.

But sometimes the words can come from blackness.

A different place that sits near a pit,
Adjacent but distant,
This place is a house of torment.

The same place that tells me,
That I never deserved your love in return,
and will destroy it even when I don't want it to.

The same place that shows me,
My own demons that serve to entrench me,
In my own shallow misery.

These places exist in the same domain,
And I hope you see this,
With the hopes that I can explain,
That the things from the pit don't hold as much weight,
Nearly as much as where you sit,
Near the place where I think my heart is.
I am so lost.
little lion Aug 2021
I have not gotten more than four hours of sleep a night in over two years,
with the single exception being the time you held me to you, moulded me to your body and let me settle, perfectly fit against you like clay.
My only reprieve was your presence beside me that night.

But as you were my reprieve, I was your escape.
A temporary solution to a long-term problem that you were not yet ready to address:
the weight of it remained in the shadows of that night
and the days that followed,
the weeks we spent together
and the nights I longed to be cradled against you once more.

I ignored it the way one ignores an expiration date... hesitantly paying attention at first, then slowly becoming secure in the false-hope that maybe that day will never come,
that things will simply last forever.


It's been 54 days since we last spoke,
7 months since we last embraced,
9 months since we last kissed,
353 days since that night.

It's been over 730 days since I last slept,
and 353 days since I woke up to a life I wanted to live.

I wish you had been a dream...
I cannot keep living this nightmare.
I thought I was getting over her, but the loneliness of last night proved just how much she ruined me.
little lion Feb 2021
I don't want to love you anymore.
but how am I supposed to make myself fall out of love
with the one who taught me
what love really feels like?
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