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Fox Friend Jan 2018
maybe
if i stop sleeping
tomorrows
will stop coming
Apoorva Jan 2018
There's a fire in my heart,
that keeps me sane.
It saves me from my demons
When they come to haunt me
And I need a savior
To take away the pain.
.
And I fear the moonlight
It reminds me of her smile
So, I hide behind the curtains
Staring at empty walls
As I try to forget her eyes
And the way she lied.
.
My glass remains empty
I need another bottle of wine
The smoke from my cigarette
Never goes out of my sight
People call me crazy now
For loving her madly.
.
But all my love is gone now
There's nothing beneath this skin
And I'm paying for my sins
Cause I gave her all I had
But she threw it all away
Like I was some ugly flower
In her garden, full of roses
.
Maybe there's no one for me
Maybe I'm too crazy
Maybe I'm too good
Maybe I'm too honest
Maybe I'm too insecure
Or just maybe I'm doomed.
Amanda Bird Jan 2018
Maybe, maybe, maybe, if you say sorry enough they’ll believe it, know you mean it.
I think your heart could use that kind of break.
right now it’s breaking.
For some small comfort there’s the night, the silky smooth night, the moon and stars.
For the hopeless romantic and pragmatist- for we’re but a second in eternity, a speck in infinity
But what a privilege it is to be so.
And what a burden it is to be so.
To be so….what?
Because here, for the first time in a long time it’s not my poison.
It’s his and hers and theirs.
Regardless, I’ll drink to my place in forever and infinity, and in regards to how my throat burns holes in my heart as it goes down, I’ll make do as I’ve done before.
Down is where it mixes with the roots,
With the ashes from which this sort of deep pain burns in the embers of my own broken glass
That’s right, I’m filled to the brim with bottles of what used to be stale beer, scorched purple in the sun of some far off desert.
They’ve been lathered in hope, rinsed with cynicism, dried with the same snot ridden shirt sleeve that dried my tears.
From them, I’ll drink poison until their pain is gone and my wish washy smile resurfaces, blood in my teeth from a war not mine.
When the straight laced meets the twisted, who bends and which way?
For better or worse, or shall I stay here in the numb, sweet and cool embrace of neutrality?
No, because I seek warmth.
It gets more than warm, hot enough to bend steely figures into what seems human.
Don’t touch. Too hot.
Proximity is a dangerous game here, where you risk skin and bone bubbling, dripping into the fire.
Burns leave scars, did you know that?
I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
Contradicting, questioning, quizzically,
I’m making my way through this like a blind man through a labyrinth of the social species.
Say maybe, so you don’t land in concrete, before you freeze from waist down and can’t breathe.
Say maybe, so time moves quickly; or stay here and bear their moment, heart and soul rough and bare.
Say maybe, so you don’t have to be sure you’re forgiven.
Say maybe, keep on holding their sins so the weight can pull you away from your own.
Thanks for reading! This is my first of hopefully many posts and I greatly appreciate feedback!
Jean Sharlot Jan 2018
Those who loved you
Will definitely leave you
And when you chooses to stay
You will be hurt deeper.  

But people whom you left
Will always be there holding you
Those people whom you trying to forget
Will never be forgotten.
Lost love Jan 2018
She didn’t know where she was heading
She didn’t know where the path she has taken was leading
She was going to keep going as long as she was still breathing

Was she lost?
Maybe she was, but if she kept going what was she
Going to lose?
And what if she stopped?

She had hopes of making it big
Was it her fate to be big?
Or was this path only leading to a dead end?
What will happen at the end?

Is she lost?
Must she keep going?
Will she make it?
I don’t know
She also doesn’t know
I bet you don’t know either
She’s just a lost child
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