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Cerasium Feb 2021
I’m starting to forget what it feels like to be happy
The only time I’m happy now is around one person
But that one person doesn’t acknowledge me like I do them
And it hurts me so bad that I want to scream

I love this person with all my heart
I pray for their safety and well-being
When they don’t answer their phone I get worried
And my paranoia runs rampant

I wish they could see how much they mean to me
If only I was good enough for them
If only I wasn’t so dysfunctional
If only I could be happy all the time

It feels like they don’t know just how I feel
That my feelings for them aren’t true
Or that I just want to use them
But what they don’t see is when they aren’t with me

I crave their presence
I wish for them to be near
I long for their touch
I long for their kiss

I need them
I feel incomplete without them
And it brings nothing but misery
And it’s slowly killing me

I long for the day they finally see me
The one that has loved them through everything
All the good and the bad
Every flaw they have

I hope they see it soon
Cause it’s getting too much to bear
This emptiness I feel
When they don’t acknowledge my love
Dianali Feb 2021
I got used to be non-worthy
All of those years
Love given to me so poorly
kay Feb 2021
breakfast has always been nice and pleasant
the evening has always been filled
with some strolling in the garden and delightful tea time
the night has always been filled with passion and late-night reading

all is well
all is good
all is warm.

so,
where did we go wrong?
i'd like to know
all the people i know
have stained my brain
with their misery and their woe,
don't they know?
i have them too
but i would never shovel them on you
it doesn't seem the right thing to do
when i could give you all love
and give woe the shove
i work it out myself
though there's still pain on the shelf
it's below me, not above
i have pain
because all i give is love
without heartache
how would i ever know love?
and if not for misery
could i be happy?
it is the duality
that makes the one
good
and the other
bad
they each contrast one another
for without contrast
our painting would be colored canvas
blank, totally devoid of any deeper meaning
when i had no age
when i was a light ray through the window
i was born
pulled from a prismatic prison
all thanks to a vision
they had
of a son

now, i am here
and what is here?
save for abject misery

is it right to subject nothing to something
to pluck out stars, from the sky?
more of us are birthed everyday
and more of us see themselves buried
and the world keeps spinning
and it would if we decide to all die
or if we decide to live
the former and latter have no affect

so why are we here?
***
and what comes after,
death
black
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