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xiixxxcix Mar 2015
I like to think that when you left me, you went straight to church. you listened to the sermon, but you couldn't stand up when the congregation sang.
I like to think that someday you'll stop trying to wash my scriptures off your hands with holy water.
I like to think that I'm that old mattress you had when you were ten; you always said it held the same familiarity as falling in love with a stranger.
the mattress' holes from falling asleep with lit cigarettes match up perfectly with my alibi.

I'm not to be trusted. I'm an angry human.
I grew up with broken glass in my lungs and cracked ribs.
something inside me snaps even further when the sun shapes your body into a shadow on my bedroom wall.

I want to redefine the word 'fire' with your name, and light candles with you. I want to make my walls sweat. I want you to burn up my ****** clothes. I want you to set my books ablaze. I want you to realize the hardest part is never letting go, but forgetting you ever had a handle.

you can't be the flame and the wick.
you need to leave me to burn down, like the altar candles in the front of the sanctuary, for everyone to see.

sometimes I think god hates me; I'm just a pawn in his and satan's chess game.
small and insignificant in value - I almost want satan to win.

after all,
if you are fire,
hell will feel like home.

but then I remember that I'm tired of controlled burns and scrubbing your soot off of my hands.

so I like to think that when you left me, you went straight to church. you listened to the sermon, but you couldn't stand up when the congregation sang.

and I like to think that Saint Jude called me out of your blaze, and that I left you there with all of your confessions and your communions in your own personal hell.

either way, it's not my cross to bear anymore.
Syreena Phelps Jan 2021
Hi, you have reached the voicemail box of Syreena Phelps. I am either working, sleeping, or too depressed to answer the phone. Leave your name, number, and a reason for me to live, and I'll get back to you as soon as I am mentally able. Thanks!
I'm trying to come up with a voicemail right now, & I can't seem to do it.
Mickey Dec 2020
It’s the bitter cold that does the trick.
Feeling alone, afraid and mentally sick.
And it’s the bitter cold that does the trick.
Oh sun,
Bring me your warmth,
please come quick.
hannah lace Dec 2020
trying to hold a conversation with you
is mentally exhausting and i just
don’t have the time to defend every
sentence that comes out of my mouth

my words are not wrong
just because you don’t like them
i haven’t wanted to write poetry as much as i do right now having met you
3md Jul 2020
My mind lay adrift at sea
As hours of sleep have evaded it.
But coffee renders it swift and free
From the torments of this hellish week.

Perhaps I will find solace
once this endeavour is over;
That, next year, my joy willn’t perish,
I can but hope for.
This was written last Dec 11 2019, as a portion of our periodical exam required some poetry.
S I N Dec 2019
The cold and metal sterility of
Aisles as if the cobweb is stretching its
Threads in every direction of Wind Rose
All coming from core of the building
Prewar being pretty but now such a pity
To behold such a sight devoid of all bright
-ness and joy and just silver alloy is
Covering walls that just barely hold
The hulk bulk of this place O ‘Tis better
Erase every one and a-last my remembrance
Of past of this place O no grace was in
This nor in taking a **** in a sink or a
Bathtub a hot tub of water so scald just
To peel you off skin yours in a moment
Like this click-clack your body wrap
Around your bones though y’all are gone
From this den of all vilest and direst of
Creatures this world ever descry and was
Witness O no ‘tis place now occupied
With all fears and a fright of being
Dragged ‘nto that mess where no room
Was for lest you’d be one of their kind
But you need to get rind off these wall
And to fill all the holes with the bodies
Of moles yes of all moles in the world
You piece of O never mind a was just
******* and a **** in the sink
Of a bathtub whence water from time
Ago had all gone like o hell like you know
Vaporized leaving no trace for a plate
With a bread to be fed to that ones
Wretched dwellers who were all
Rolling Hellers till one day this one
Fellow ain’t show up in this joint
With his strap and his oint and
O no I just can’t I just cause you’re my
Friend but I can’t o please stop o
Please no o stop I can’t take i orghs


This one is out; bring another
This pile of **** to the others outside
Burn them after we done here
I thought vulnerability was for the weak.
Even when I let you inside my thoughts
I've had both hands on your steering wheel.
I swerve hard left turns on the difficult memories,
dodging the on coming traffic of blatant truths.
My minds is a pile up on intestate 98
but I have you on the detour route
to Mr. Nice Guy lane on the road of "life is okay".
The next stop is "I am happy" street on the corner
of "you will be all right" avenue and "I don't care" lane.
But these fabricated roads are painted over signs
that trick you into believing that I am truly "fine".
But all the cars have crashed and burned
and now you know the truth.
Insomnia is literally killing me right now but hey makes some interesting poems
Never whole
since in this hole
I fell
A bottomless well
and since time started here
(when all of time stopped)
this spell
I’m under
makes me not well

The company
I’m in
a grin
One who spins
A tale to weave
of make believe
These items to sell
Story he tells

My brain
set on fire
from his grinning
Cheshire
The maniacal laughter
and madness
inspired
I’m tired
I’m mired
Situation is dire

Without choice
he is hired
All thoughts are rewired
Has risen to “Sire”
This liar and thief
Plays *****
and cheats
I’m beat
can not win
Left to stare at that grin
Written: May 28, 2019

All rights reserved.
myrrh Mar 2019
Pain in my arm from reaching out
Third time's supposed to be the charm
But I've lost count & don't know when I'll max out
Mentally taxed & received an emotional drought
Heavily deceived despite knowing the pattern
Opening & showing your heart & now it's shattered
With each day I feel more battered; it's hard
Wishing for a future that's bright
Whilst relishing in the empty mind space of night
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