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Hayley McInnes Mar 2020
I've grown accustomed to this light
Now, in the distance, a breaking of bread
I've known my place in this line
But still I wander out of turn

I fade into the grey surroundings
The shadow of my presence leaves the scene
I'll stay outside by the streetlight
There is nothing in there for me
fray narte Mar 2020
tell me,
if i tear my way out of this skin —
bash it, cut it all open
until all that's left
is a hollow beneath
a veiled sculpture,
if i peel these wound scabs raw
and adorn them with buttercups:
an offering to the god of death,
if i scratch on these wrists
hard enough,
long enough,

deep enough, they won't heal,
creating an outlet —
a crevice, nonetheless,
tell me,
can i finally escape myself?

can i finally escape myself?
Dark lover Mar 2020
Once a grand master of the game chess, whose knowledge of the game of is quite vast, to an extent that he decided to challenge the creator of the game, whose name is "THE UNIVERSE" to a game of chess, hoping to have a draw or maybe a win, but it favours him not..
For ere the game begins, the opponent, knows the inevitable end of the game. However he tries to manipulate the game..
It will ends in the favour of the opponent.. . At the beginning he was attacking the opponent with all enthusiasm but to an extent he realized..
All efforts is a wasted one.  
At a point he realized all his  stratagem are nothing but an advantage for the opponent..At a point the universe even got bored and decided to make him feel he's got some upper hands..
The opponent saw all the man's picayunish   effort and found it quite inconsequential..
Hence decided to offer him a life line to seek the aid of every one he can contact and combine all the effort to play,
To have a better chance maybe..
But so unfortunately all combined effort failed as well, and due to difference of opinions it only results  to separatism between the combined forces.
What a melancholic for the man who decides to challenge the universe to a chess game.. At a point confused became is lot..
When he realized, it matters not how he plays it surely ends with the inevitable...
But it stopped him not from playing, though it stops him not from loosing anyway...
The inevitable...
N Mar 2020
I wrote a poem about her and
held it against my aching heart,
it sang to me a melancholic tune
Zack Rowe Mar 2020
One: He left unto me a daggers edge, a fine blade crafted where the water ends and the sky need not continue.

Two: He left unto me keys, the notes needed to take apart uncertainty and make certain I was alive.

Three: He left unto me books. Words. Countless tales I could steal and weave into my own until nothing original existed anymore.

Four: He left unto me nightmares from which I could only wish away with a dreamlike fever, heaven knows I tried to drown them out.

Five: He left unto me eyes with which to witness all of life’s beauty. I stayed inside.

Six: He left unto me these hands in order to compose, write, hold and reach. To reach so highly for the stars allows one to grow cold. If only my hands were made of Icarus’ wings.

Seven: He left unto me blood. I bled.

Eight: He left unto me tales of grandeur within which he was a God, a ruler fighting against the chaos of the outside. He gave me bottles filled with hope and sadness and joy and an unending fear of unbalance. I only wished to tip the scales to see if perhaps the ground would crack and volcanos would rise up to burn these stories.

Nine: He left unto me magic, so I could see people’s eyes light up. With sleight of hand and a simple illusion, he fooled death and I.

Ten: He left unto me time. But never enough. The sands strained over countless lands and mountains, travelling and thinning out in order to afford more and more and more and more time. I wait while the clock ticks.

Eleven: He left unto me oceans. My fear of water overshadowed this gift and I drowned, submerged under until the torrent of disaster that I begged for devoured me whole.

Twelve: I left. The cosmos exposed to me. I found one spot between a stars smile and a comets scream. So I went, and waited without him.
s Feb 2020
once again, i’m haunted by the littlest thoughts of failure. sometimes, i think that the universe had plans for me to be painfully alone. alone in every aspect of my god forsaken life. the life i didn’t choose to be alive in. the life where i’m filled with people at every corner but i’m just stuck ー and everyone else is moving. kinda like a still film.

once again, i’m haunted by the thoughts of living; painfully living to be exact. with no passion and no optimism, i’m surviving. but for who?

haunted in every brim of my life, taunted by the failures i failed to achieve as a living corpse.
haunted in every corner of my zero societal achievements.

haunted, my life begins and ends.
i hate living! can’t wait to die lol.
crybaby Jan 2020
As the midnight snows
my desire to be
another's grows
to be as beautiful
as a rose
seems to be my new pose
I'll sit here waiting
for my love, at last, to show
that true love is not just something that I suppose
crybaby Jan 2020
Oh, I used to love you
to lay in your arms
how you held me so tight
soon fell apart
how leaves fall from a tree
love needs to restart
leaves are stepped on and they crumble
the way they disintegrate, is like my heart
crybaby Jan 2020
I ponder on the fictional love
that splatters on the television
as my tears spill because I will never
experience that love
I am not in a movie
crybaby Dec 2019
To dance the night away
is my new favorite thing
the flashing lights, the whisky in my breath  
and the man attempting to dance
all excite me
I escape into the night
and I forget the truth
I never want to leave
You will find me at the club, now every single week
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