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Kassan Jahmal Apr 13
I'm too full of a fool; (in love)
death do us part, love you to death,
That's a coffin built for two,— some of me, some of you.
Why cry like an ocean; when your favourite
colour is blue?

There's a shade of yellow; particularly
in the back of your eye... so bright knowing; thinking
about you; (my brightest idea)

I'm alive; in a live performance of watching you
move my heart in motions. Motion pictures;
you fill with films of your story.

But if only...

I wasn't a writer of my imaginative;
a painter in the mind of what if's.
Being good at writing about love out of love;
this is poetic madness.
Broadsky Apr 8
the face of a man whose children I almost had

he bought me a teal house that needed some work- but it wasn't that bad

spending hours in a stream finding every last crawdad

laying on my back in a field on a summer night feeling glad

these are the things that make me mad


a man who's loyal to no land

what things are in the drawer of your nightstand?

shouldn't I know first hand?

this feels like I'm sinking in quick sand


the announcement of someone new loving you didn't tear me apart

it's you sleeping with your brother's wife that did me in, sweetheart

who did you outsmart?

whose lives are kept in the dark?


locked and confined to the four corners of a house

you turn the lights off and take off her blouse

broken vows

what happened to the man who couldn't even hurt a mouse?


when you look in the mirror what do you see?

blue eyes as deep and vast as the sea?

a face full of deceit?

grabbing all the things you gave me, wishing I kept the receipt

bury your self respect in concrete

let your face burn scarlet when they ask

"so how did you two meet?"


black eyed susan vines

when and where did you both cross the line?

what you've done feels like swallowing turpentine

but it's all fine

good luck trying to untangle yourselves in these web of lies.
I found out he's sleeping with his brother's ex-fiancé her and i were close friends when he and I were together years ago.
xavier thomas Mar 17
-Let me tell you why I was mad, bruh
-Fans are always pushing for more than enough
-Rumbling their voices during games and such
-So i burn their opinions through this blunt
-We give it our all, even when it is rough
-Earlier, that’s why my anger was build up
-Sometimes those voices get to my head, thinking to much
-So I get high to let it go, let it go, let it go
Conversation:
heart to heart- soul to soul- brother to brother
~one man to another🏀
Ils Mar 2
You tell me you miss me, yet you do nothing
You tell me you like me, yet you do nothing
You wanna kiss me, you wanna hug me, you wanna **** me

But the truth of the matter is that you left me
Remember I wasn’t the one who decided to go
You left us
You left me

******* and the way that I hate myself
For the feelings that I felt when you left me

Honestly, ******* and the way that I'm mad at you
For all the reasons and the ******* and the lies you told me

I know, I know.
It's not your fault that you have **** going on

It’s my fault that I'm mad,
Trying to look for a reason to not hate you as much as I do.
Trying to combat the feelings of missing you

And you tell me sweet nothings whispered into my ear
For you to only turn your back when I'm not there

And you tell me these lies like sweet honey pie
Cavities fill my teeth from the sweet, sweet words
But I know you don't care that you hurt me

But really. It's myself that I hate
For feeling these things

You and I are okay,
but still, I'm hurting every single day.

Your reason is valid,
and for that, I'm sorry that I feel this way.
Sorry, I'm feeling things tonight. I don't actually hate you, please don't hate me too.
N Feb 1
In the dark
I write you a letter
hoping it would reach you

It starts like this:
My beloved,
I love you still

From afar,
but I still love you
as tenderly
as ardently
as ever

I hunger for you
as violently
as madly  
as ever

And I wait
Damon Robinson Dec 2021
There is this pair of sweatpants,
they sit in the bottom left drawer of my dresser.
Sometimes
I like to picture myself wearing them.

That comfortable,
snuggly feeling.
Like a warm hug
from an old friend
you used to crush on.

It's such an out there concept,
- but imagine if it happened.
Me
wearing those sweatpants
from the bottom left drawer of my dresser.
Or that black hoodie
that my mom got me two Christmases ago
the one that she special purchased because so it'd fit just right
Or any stained shirt ever
one that you can wear for comfort at home
because finally no one is watching.

I learned young
to button-up
so that there wouldn't be
as many eyes watching me today
so i can go and buy my favourite candy
from that gas station down the street.

And I always wondered
why some people's sunday best
was my only way to feel normal.

I was about 10
when I learned
that wearing comfortable
might get me stopped
by the police today.

I guess this is what it's like
to be true
north
strong
and free.
to this day i cannot go to any store without feeling like a criminal. @DamonRobPoetry
Clay Face Dec 2021
This.
Stimuli.
It depletes me.
Turn, turn around.
And complete me.

I, lost all control.
And this sense of lament is visceral.
I bleed, from the outside.
Numb death, turning, becoming inside.

I.
Just need one thing.
A child’s toy, nostalgic and stuffed.
A somnambulant hymn.
To remove me.
Disassociate, please.

Your hand is soft.
Placed places that comfort.
I miss your scent, that congeals.
I wish I didn’t have to feel nothing.
Emptiness is so guttural and potent.

I can’t help but see.
Everything slip by.
Patrick Nov 2021
Mad
I've fallen into madness for yet another day.
I've fallen into madness, but now I wish to stay.

It used to be frightful,
The denizens so strange
It used to be so alien,
These people filled with...change?

It used to be so different;
No one there like me.
It used to be indifferent,
Till my gaze settled on me.

Now the madness gnaws,
No angel to hold it with her light.
Now the madness grows,
Along with dreams every night.

No longer anchored by self preservation or fate;
I will recreate my world,
Madness my only fate.
Clay Face Nov 2021
The time numbs. I want it raw like it was.
Like ******* and ******.
Something powerful and honest.

I let lies continue.
Fantasies I tease myself with.
I never follow these potential trails.
I’m terrified of not having blissful reverie.
Closure haunts me. I’m scared of definition.

I live in a time that never ends.
I breath the exhaust we know but cannot see.
The world spins upon my shoulders, I pass it on without using my hands.
People die, it’s distant.
Life doesn’t mean much.

I live here in a puddle.
I love all the potential I have to waste.
I don’t know what I would slobber on without it.

I want something raw.
Something abrasive, without some sort of superficial veil.
If I brush back another thin facade just to uncover a clearer image of *******.
I’ll slump the world with my bear hands, and whatever blunt object is abreast.
The ensuing postlude or coattail if you will, is gruesome and redefines the word genocide.

Life passes by because it’s not cut with iron anymore. It’s chiseled away with fantastic stone and underlying hopeful chimes of music. A method to which leaves reality unclear, and insipid. Quite literally dull and un-vitriolic.

The time jingoes tore babies from teats, bounced sore bosoms, and buried John Doe’s in mass graves beside schools. Is long gone.

I live in a butterfly massacre.
JR Oct 2021
I am a possessive creature
I am held together by passion
Fear me when I am mad
Love me when I am motivated
I am a jealous creature
I will love you to the moon and back
Break me and I will be vengeful
Kiss me but touch no other
Not one stroke
Not one glance
I want my name tattooed on your heart
Because yours is burned in my brain
I am a possessive creature but so are you

-J.R
I don't know. I just started writing and then this came out. When I was writing, I was inspired by the show You. Enjoy it and think what you must.
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