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i am stuck
to many people
too big too much too loud
a stray elbow, a well intended touch
too much
too MUCH
don't see me break down
don't touch me
don't hear me
don't feel me
don't feel
don't touch me don't touch me
don't touch dont touch DONT TOUCH ME
ITS TOO MUCH
we've all been here. been crammed in a car for too long or at a party that you're tired of. thought it needed a poem. i'm plenty social but when i've had enough i've had enough y'know
At twenty years old
I feel like I have lived more lives
Then anyone should ever be permitted too.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 9
<>

with time whittling my days down,
the plurality point of my days long since
surpassed, my poems to the wayside
fall as new generations seek the voices
that are nuanced to their ear, tastes,
I remain, for the more obvious, more now than ever,
forever for the poets who sign their emails to me with:

I close with much gratitude


spoke or unspoken,
you-see I-see your poetry nuggets in everything,
the extraordinary ordinaries!
that delight the weakening eyes, move the ****** muscles
upward and outward, those nuggets by that,
one can grasp
the nexus of existence in words few and singular, open/close,
and the filters that mark life as word worthy,
salutations of words like:

Gratitude

and all that matters is this simple, my friends, my children,
that I go down in days full of gratitude
for them, for them.
Maria Mitea Aug 21
It is Friday morning,
I feel like a robot lubricating its joints
with peanut  batter and jelly cookies,
repeating its movements over again;
jumping, running and extending into
the big robotic world with the hope of
reaching out to humans.

Driving to pick up Hilda, a soul
that needs a ride to heaven,
her husband a former mafia driver, in his homeland, lost his car and driving license,
as the virus came and switched  his brain on shootings and killings he witnessed,
in his youth days, when worrying more for money then life.

I hope for no shootings today,
Friday morning, and
The sun didn’t show up on the sky,
It can be too much even for him shining everyday, not an easy job warming up
earth’s feet when striving for a happy day.

It is early Friday morning,
The dog had no time for barking,
I feel like a robot that has been overused,

Waiting in the car,
I succumb to dreaming and export myself into a passed homeland life, were on Fridays evenings I laugh and wear cherries 🍒 behind my friendly years, when Apollon comes with his sweet kisses.

My client arrived , she moves like a robot too ... I drive ... we reach in heaven as we start talking and crying, ...

Hilda opens like a flower to the sunset, while she is telling her life story,
and how much pain she carries in her feet and arms, cut off at every sunrise by her mother denial, shootings hit her heart,
I pray and hope for her husband to be well,
and forgiven by Gods.

Hilda’s story wakes me up to being a human, ... between tears and pains we find our laughs, ... After we cry, laugh and feel  the pain, me and Hilda we feel like two humans on Friday morning.
Thank you Hilda!🙏✨
KHY Apr 29
So much for them;
I'll forget them
So much for me;
I'll forget me
Forget. In these trying times I find it hard to keep everything in. By forgetting my problems I forget myself. By forgetting others I forget myself. I forget.
Words' Worth Apr 27
The rain can't be felt
The pain strangely dwells
Tonight in the meadow
I will be all alone and shrouded
Near the cloudiness on my window

Her beautiful curls fall down
When the red ribbons are pulled from the tips
The story is hanging from a thread
Like her shoes tipping from her toes
When we call it quits

Till I leave from the front door
Her heart is open
So is her world for a moment
Her body is not a wonderland
It's a weapon and I am not that strong
Tess M Apr 4
it hasn't even been a week,
still i miss you;
i  cant stop thinking about
you
about how I ended things.
i'm sorry

i can't stop worrying,
you could my thoughts
i miss you
this is for you Travis
vanessa ann Mar 23
sorry, did i stutter too much?
i hope you don’t mind.
it’s just that i’m scared my heart will fall out of my guts
if i keep talking to you like this

because how do you say i love you without saying i love you?
“i miss you” is too general to be perceived as anything but platonic, isn’t it?
but “you matter to me” is too personal for my comfort,
and “you are my world” might just be too much
for the both of us

it’s not like i’m in love with you or anything,
i just think it’d be nice to feel your heart beating
against mine.
—but if the universe aligns...
Mrs Anybody Mar 18
why do i
always start
to care
for people
i barely know

when they
probably don't
care about me
also check out my other poems!  :)
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