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My Dear Poet Jun 22
You’re that feeling that burns
every time you’re filled, not spent
we go back to learn
It wasn’t what I meant

The strong promises and lines
that couldn’t be broken, you bent
among all the go around rhymes
It wasn’t what I meant

The absent truths and stains
of every little word stolen, you lent
only to borrow pain and play
It wasn’t what I meant

and when you finally understood
phrases couldn’t be ripped, but rent
now there’s that silent separation
It wasn’t what I meant.
ht Apr 2023
How can you stare
into everything I am -
raw and pink,
breaking and bleeding,
and still not get it?
the linoleum is cool against my cheek | h.t.
stillhuman Jul 2021
How do we clash
so harsh
and yet sparse
but it lasts
anger blush
as we laugh
I guess love has its price
dilshé Jul 2021
flawed interpretations
unintentional messes
obliterates my mind
& the heart, it oppresses
decisions are risky
social constructs are fragile
interactions give anxiety
for some aren't as agile
confidence is a faulty machine
you never know when it'll collapse-
doubt is a burden to the soul
when the world is full of traps.
dilshé Jul 2021
To stay out of trouble
is to live in your bubble
'Don't mingle'- not subtle
when you end in the rubble.
Became a social butterfly
only to hear the distant battle-cry
as arrows struck you from up high
& you began think, 'I'd rather die'
than carry the weight- 'misunderstood'
from societal challenges- understood-
risk your peace - do you think you would?
to become a figure - appearing 'good'.
Sungmoo Bae Sep 2020
The two ol' pals are facing each other.

He passes a glass of poison
to his dear guest, leaning
near the front door, slightly opened;
and he's learning the reason—

why he's standing there,
about to storm out of the stone-cold apartment—
'bout to burst in tears
shedding the vivid droplets

that shouldn't be belonging to a mere ghost.
Yet he's fleeting, escaping the scene still,
while the owner of the kitchenette
is putting back the bottle

    to where it belonged;
    and he's gone, present no longer.

The drink on the rock—left on the shelf—
is evaporating, following the vaporized guest,
leaving the scent of faint alcohol
that lulls the other friend to regretful sleep.
(C) Copyright: Saul Bae (Sungmoo Bae)

Last Revised: 21th of December, 2020.
Daisy Hemlock Aug 2020
I wish I could be the right thing

For the right person

But I'm the wrong thing for everyone

And everyone's wrong for me
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