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lua Mar 31
first love, loud evening
blaring lights,
she cries into a puddle on the floor
i help her up as she drips through my fingers
it's funny, i laugh until my cheeks hurt
she's sobbing into her palms
first love, a crying mess
lipstick smeared, chocolate cake stains on her teeth
when i sing, i can't help but think of her
how it would feel to hold her
more than a friend
but first love remains a first love
she goes home, a stumbling mess in the night
slurring her goodbyes as she drags her feet to the car
first love, goodbye and good night
stay as my first love, it's better that way
i'll meet someone like you soon.
degzvdg Mar 23
My lips are tired even if nothing is being said yet.
It's always those 'sometimes' that's nailed to my head.
Please stop crying again.
Aren't you the one who will wipe away those tears?
Don't you get annoyed every time you are blamed?
I gained my freedom from you.

While there is still strength left, I want you to know.
Here I am swearing not to do it again,
Here I am ready to leave you,
Here I am and will live alone,
I'm here and are you still there?

Please forgive me for my train of thoughts,
It's always been illogical and selfish.
I know the past is over,
It's not worth doing anymore.
Don't you get bored every time you stare at yourself?

But now I will return again,
Just for a single moment to look at you again.
Here I am standing before you,
Here I am hoping and ready to be hurt.
I'm not going to hold back anymore.

I'm here because of you, I'm sorry, I'm a mess.
I hope you believe me.
Here I am singing confusedly.
Please understand me.
Bipolar Poet Aug 2022
Gave you a taste of magic,
Sticks and stones in love—so beautifully tragic.
I’d give my world to be around your planet,
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?
A taste of line stuck in your jaw,
Decorating yourself—there’s a little decore.
I’m your centre piece in place of more,
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

All cuts and lip burns,
I was the very last—of every first,
Stars in perfect alignment; but all by force,
I was lost for words, biting my tongue; but not tasting hurt.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?
It’s a waste being young,
But adulthood is so painful—really no fun,
And I’ll be insecure knowing how not to make a girl ***,
Coming around to my place, and accidents of making a son.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

The high life highlights,
Bite size feelings, drinks of nightlife—so high!
Still scared of heights, and not having the right size,
As the killing factor of any man’s pride.
Why won’t it fit right, it doesn’t feel right, or quiet tight.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

Being around the block,
Waking up to the rooster—tickling ****.
“Where are my socks,“ letting borrow tops,
While topping someone off the top in slob,
Twisting your emotions, as you twisting the ****.
Just a tip cob—ain’t nothing wrong till it repeats tomorrow,
And there’s nothing more left sweet of that fleshy flower.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

Just two curious people trying to prove they're good at ***,
Just an excuse to tidy up themselves after being a mess.
                                              They’re both just a mess!
MA Jul 2022
Hey, I’mamess
Can I have a moment with you
Don’t you know that you’ve been looking like the world is against you?
Well, ya know
I’m just curious what the hell are you going through?
If you wanna talk, just tell me
I’m all ears for you

Hey, I’mamess
So you’ve been feeling stuck
And you can't figure out what’s causing you to feel like that
Could it be your mom, your dad, your grandma, or pa?
Or maybe it's just yourself
Oh, I guess that's that

And now you’re telling me you also feel uninspired
And you can’t even write a song, a poem, or anything that rhymes
Singing is now boring and your fingers are tired
Tired of playing the same tunes almost every night

Hey, I’mamess
I heard you know God
And you’re telling other people about His great love
I must say, it’s a good thing and I salute you for that
But now you’re telling me you’re a hypocritical wing nut

Hey, I’mamess
You are indeed a mess
You’re an unproductive, recalcitrant, idiotic wreck
But hey, I’mamess
A lot of people like you
They appreciate your talent and the things that you do

Lastly, I’mamess
I think the world is not really against you
You are a mess because you criticize you
spacewtchhh Jun 2022
It's okay to lie down underneath your blank ceiling
Until twelve, one, two and counting...
Cutting your skin to pieces,
Eating your unfavorite chocolate Reese's,

Until your body fall into sleeping,
Mixing old dreams about running away
From a cult or an unknown creature
From someone you know or a foreign soldier.

It's okay to make mistakes as you run
It's okay, as they say, "You're only human. "
How you talk and swear too much through our thread
How you ignored and made every part of them bleed
How you call your every episode special
How your own mess and theirs wrestle

Until you open your eyes to see the same ceiling,
Still blank but with a hint of late morning blaze.
Time to repeat the same heat without healing
I apologize to you, one from the doorcrack who gazed.
should i visit a therapist
Jodie-Elaine Jun 2020
God is a hungover slob
who doesn’t wear pants,
I will miss you like a house on fire.
? 2020
selina Dec 2021
in a single heartbeat
i lost sight of our surroundings
everything fell into focus

even now, i am tangled in your web
and the only words i had found always held you
on a pedestal, at the foot of which i bled
Idklove Nov 2021
Keep you close
Until i breathe you through my nose
Wish i could leave you with someone
Who can care of you
Cause I'm capable for your love but you are not
Bella Isaacs Sep 2021
There are still clothes I cannot bring myself to sort,
Still papers lying, crumbling, crumpling their worth -
My life is a mess since you hit me out of kilter
And I can't pick myself up, let alone my belongings;
I can't pick up, get up, grow up, let alone filter
What I need and what I don't, as in my longings
I asked for you - I should have asked to long for breath;
Perhaps I'm just enduring cramp now, in this little death
Of mine - Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow with a fresh head,
Maybe I'll remember my worth, and not with dread
That I am worth so little to you
Who was just one of a few
One of a few you passed by and left a wake,
Awake. How could you know, sweet rake?
How could I know? Disease can often touch us longer
Than we think; its hold, though weakened, is still stronger.
Second poem in the FortnightForFatigue challenge.
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