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maria Sep 18
you laughed at my anger
I took it as a sign
a sign you didn't care
didn't understand me

but I was the one who didn't understand
I was the one who took your laughter as disrespect
it was just you trying
trying to calm down my flames

you were only trying to fix me
fix what's going to happen next
change it so it doesn't get bad
you were the one understanding me

I just took it as
as...
as something I can't explain
but you can clearly explain it

break it down and explain to to me
that's what I admire but I also misunderstand you so much
I don't deserve you
I really don't...
My Dear Poet Jun 30
I don’t think I can take it anymore”,
she cried.

Where would you take it anyway, if you still could”, I asked

What do you mean…I don’t get it?”she said

Never mind”, I replied

You cant take anything anywhere if at first you didn’t get it”.
I didnt understand
Didnt know
I was broken
Because Ive never known
What it means to be whole
maybe never will...
-elixir- Jun 2020
Ring my bells,
When the cells
Of the heavenly abode
Dispels the ode
Of the dark.
I remain embedded
In this tarnished red,
As I tear down the grey walls
And paint it a violet haul.
Like this mind that's hidden,
For thy made it forbidden,
For this aura bewilders you,
And you cowardly view
The new as a symbol
Of destruction of all.
ms reluctance Apr 2019
Those who fear being misunderstood should
not get into the business of creation.
Nor should they who only want to be good.

Absolute truth is a piece of fiction.
What you create no longer belongs to you –
always subject to interpretation.

It is cathartic to create something new
even if it does not serve the purpose
you originally set out to do.

If misunderstanding makes you nervous,
remember, being understood can be worse.
NaPoWriMo Day 22
Poetry form: Terza Rima
Xaela San Apr 2019
In a fragment of a lifetime history
Counted are the precise point in time
Where the past reflects the future, becoming our present
This includes the reasons why we parted ways;

It was an accordance to a heated moment one night ago
Of our dreadful argument and misunderstanding
Even the days that came, was still a raging storm;

It was travail, painful, a difficult experience
Even the weeping of my eyes can not cease the brokenheart bleed;

Until everything became still, silent like strangers meeting for the first time
And we know both this is our unexpected ending of our history.
sushii Mar 2019
maybe i am here.
would you see me?

the door is open--
you can walk on out.

see all the teenagers
jigging about.

i don't think it's your scene
over here with me.


maybe i am there.
could you hear me?

the capitals are low--
turning sentences inside out.

see all the thoughts
hanging around.

the vision is blurred
over here with me.


maybe i am no longer.
could you sense me?

don't misunderstand--
that's not what this poem is about.

see my blank stare
midnight all around.

the time is all gone
over here with me.
nja Jan 2019
'Put my ice cream in the oven.'
'Apply some lipstick.'
'Stop winning and criticising.'
'I understand everything just fine thank you.'
But she laughs at her own jokes, she misunderstands mostly, she is loved by me.
Another one about my gran. All phrases in parenthesis are fragments of her.
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