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B Jan 2017
Maybe time heals all wounds;
its what they always say,
but your heart is ******* up,
you're just not okay.

Maybe you're hurt. You're hopeless.
Try to let the right one in the door,
but every time you're more careful,
is an even deeper cut than before.

Maybe it's a game of conquest,
you just use and discard.
You wanna make it good.
You gotta make it hard.

Maybe every warm body
is just another empty shell
no matter how many
you're alone in your hell

Maybe was your true love
now she's just an ex
You try to get over it,
with some mindless ***.

Maybe it helps the ego
but the heart yearns for more
but it hurts like hell
it shakes you to the core.

Maybe next time, things will be different.
you'll learn from your errors
one step forward
away from altruistic terrors

Maybe you'll find someone
Someone who will take care of you.
When you're feeling happy,
or when you're feeling blue

Maybe
making a comeback
Stephanie Frank Dec 2016
Blinded by fake-ups and look-sees
Brainwashed by surgeries and fakeries
Withheld by ridiculous ideals
Restrictions aided by societal feels

To them she was an outcast
But she was my Aphrodite
They could jest all they wanted
But I was taking home this deity

To remove all the tussles
Seive out the floccs
Solve all the puzzles
Open my Pandora's box

Whatever I found I wouldn't fright
Rather I think I'd take delight
Take me oh seductress to your chamber
Of your soul I'd love to be a member

Where they saw flaws I saw beauty
I saw angels doing their duty
They thought what I saw microscopic
I thought their primitive minds myopic

This strange creature unlike any I'd seen
Had pulled my heart and tugged at the seam
As she tore it open all I could find
Was I was a goner and I didn't mind

Her beauty had left me mindless
My entire being insentient
I could all but do her bidding
To this I was very willing
Everywhere I go,
I see mindless people,
Everytime I listen,
I hear mindless voices,
Everytime I look around,
I see mindless behaviour,
Everytime I close my eyes,
I dream mindless dreams.

This world is filled with mindlessness,
is it ever going to change?
Abbie Oct 2016
I'm just a doll come to life
Only activated when people come to me
I am a blank canvas ready to be painted
By conversations and events of the day
I am a mindless soul wandering throughout life
Turning on when people need me or want me.
I am not an individual,merely stitches of multiples put together as one: ideas, personality, tendencies, not original but not cliche.
Who I am is pieces of different persons seen together in different colors and taste of personalities.
I am only made of others but none of myself personally. Each person is their own to be what they choose
But I am only a canvas a thought of their muse
I only self activate on the blue moon
For I am only made from recycled blues
Spike Harper Aug 2016
It's suffocating.
This mind.
Reeking here and there.
Gasping for an idea.
To illuminate.
It's ever growing corners.
The claw marks on the walls are ever so..
Apparent.
Given the choice.
The match may never be struck.
For these walls have become the momento..
Walking them daily.
Adding more as each claw digs deeper.
Waiting for the next one has lost its horror.
Just as avoiding the inevitable.
Has.
This gambit.
Must allude to something of value..
Or was the real misfortune.
Believing.
Gluttony seems to favor the fool.
Even if the world..
Sees otherwise.
Sydney Marie Mar 2016
I cannot feel ashamed or disrupted
I cannot feel lost or disturbed
by you leaving me...

Only because,


I was thinking of someone else.
Connor Exodus Feb 2016
I don’t want to know,
No, I don’t really care.
I don’t want you to show me
How you’ll always be there.

Because I don’t think I will,
No, not for a while.
So just allow me to ****
This mindless smile.

It is doing no favours
For you or for I,
It’s not making me braver,
Just guiltily sly.
Hannuh Jacey Jan 2016
Forcing these thoughts like clay through a spout.

Flagrant doubt as to the success of your recent suffering.

It isn't like it used to be. Nothing is like it used to be.

Lost inspiration in happiness - dragging out words like animal carcass.

No immortal flow - no ingenious drawl - blathering rants disguised in colorful diction.

Dissatisfaction in all nonfiction - creativity only thriving on dysfunction.

Functionality is ruining your beauty.

You were better when you were useless.
Jan. 27th, 2016
vic Jan 2016
Hello my old friend.
I guess it’s nice to see you again.
You’ve been visiting me so much lately.
Nothing in my head is forming anything straightly
It’s all jumbled and clouded and mixed.
I don’t know how this problem can be fixed
Writer’s block has gotten a hold on me!
It just won’t let my writings be!
I used to be able to write poem after poem,
But now I’m lucky if I even get a quote done.
Maybe if I shoot myself in the head
The creativity will spill out all over my bed.
I want to make a name for myself!
But right now, I just see my book on a dusty shelf.
I continuously tap key after key
Why won’t any nice rhymes come out of me?
I keep on searching and searching
I do all of my researching
On the topics I need to write
Yet nothing in this poem seems right
I want to write about my personal experiences.
But right now my book is on clearance.
I don’t feel good enough to make it in this industry
I don’t want to let this blank mind stop me
Yet it feels as if I have no choice.
It feels as if I have lost my voice.
Writer’s block is Ursula in the deep sea
She made this contact with me
I grew my vocabulary but lost my voice
Why did I make this choice?
It’s just mismatched words and no originality
Where is my creativity?
I used to have such a loud mind.
But now everything’s quiet and I mind.

Of course the full first poem I’ve written in a month is about not being able to write.
Sounds like me, I’m just the type.
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