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I try to reach out
You don't respond
This gives me doubt
But I still continue on

I communicate again
Not a voice to be heard
Does she not want me then?
I wish I could be sure
Going through tough times and feeling tough emotions. Just another piece fueled off my reality
9.
Each one of us desires to be heard
hence forgot to hear others. But
we should be willing to listen,
cos, they too feel the same
Moeshfiekah Aug 28
Love a rose,
Just as is she

Her petals fell each time,
Until there was nothing but
her stem in the bewildered soil.
her love grew until there was nothing lefty of it. until it escaped and each time she loved me . another part of her fell out of it. until there was nothing left but her body no soul. laying upon the ground in nakedness
C Jul 10
You're a secondary character in your own picture.
Watching yourself as you take each step.

Left foot.
Right foot.

You see them in the hallway but chose to walk away.
You feel your breath getting shorter and shorter.

Why can't you step inside your shoes.

You're trapped.
Watching yourself go through life.
Watching every detail and counting each step.

Why won't you step in.
Feel something that's real.
Instead of being a brainless ghost who wants to feel.
Eleanor Jun 29
no outside
no easy life
"no trouble, babe"
heaven kept you this way
your bones are brittle
your blood up and down
your hair thinning badly
and your smile falling to a frown
I'll wait for our reunion
a kiss upon your mouth
tell me that you're certain
tell me that you'll be around
To the girl in the residential eating disorder hospital I can't stop thinking about
Aa Harvey Jun 29
Alone


There are only so many times you can go to a dry well,
Begging for water when you are dying of thirst.
I have exchanged my last token, so no words will be spoken;
No thoughts can be shared, my empathy hurts.
All I need is one, but for me love is gone.
Something I used to do, but now? None.


I cannot pray for what I cannot ask for.
I cannot beg or implore for a new love to adore,
Because I have either closed every open door,
Or they have been slammed in my face, no questions asked,
No more.


No more love for me; my heart a disease.
Take it with ease.
I have already given it to a thousand lost souls
And there is no more gold to be earnt from a piece of me,
That does not work to find a thing that does not exist,
When *** knows I have tried!


All I need is a simple kiss, yet no lips exist for my benefit.
They are for others, who already have lovers
And are also cheating love with former lovers.
And me?
Oh brother!
Do not even bother to ask about my love life,
Because you have endless names in your black book of abundance.
It does not make me useful when I am redundant,
To all who need love, because I am a closed book.
My story already written; read and done.


I have had enough of love to last me a lifetime…
Apparently.
I did not think so before, but now I am sure.
I exist therefore I am alone.
My epitaph scrawled across a cardboard home
And I am alone,
I am alone,
I am alone,
Alone.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Lost in the now
Present somewhere
Reading words
Essence vaporised
Lost to time
Moments afore

Happy is my world
Love my people
Yet ,
When Words on the wheel
Redundant
Elusive, they feel
I feel alienated with self

Life’s busy
Too Many chores
Listen to my music
Remembering loved ones
Barely making calls
A Recluse
Have I become one
All good , just some thoughts.
White steam from green tea
Old school rap echoing across the walls
I ordered my own food and drink
What I wanted instead of a rushed decision
I feel free
Starting conversations with strangers
Holding good ones with my partner's partner
Raising my hand in class and
Actually sharing my opinion
Without the fear of judgement
Holding me back at all
With scrunched and bushy furrowed brow
   I ponder precise circumstances  
   when consciousness got born
Tracing back lineage of self,
   an arbitrary individual unpredictable as the Dow
   Reckoning series of events
   sustained life similar to sowing seed of corn

Ruminating fragile nascent organisms
   at mercy of fate flourished, and how
   Taxing me mind asper each score
   composed bards to toot their own horn
Aware just slightest off beat fluke

   determined from millennia ago or now
   That particular organism,
   whether one celled entity
   or beings that can mourn,
The loss of kindred members –

   food for thought since pledging marital vow
   this poet, whose presence
   a fluke of circumstances possibly torn
At any point in distant past
   rendering me absent unable to utter wow

At what crapshoot of circumstances
   wrought Matthew Scott Harris to be
   Cognizant of genealogy
   wove World Wide Web
   following threads back in time

Albeit not more than a couple generations –
   whereby emigrants did flee
   From supposed eastern European swath
   in general finding reason to rhyme

For no reason, just as other creatures
   great or small occupy themselves with glee
   Or just groveling along at
   bare ***** knuckle existence without a dime

Less apt to own luxury how **** sapiens
   purportedly evolved from mon-key
   Whereby harsh ill fate tempts them
   into life of crime
When perhaps riches with kingly figures
   loomed large in family tree

Branching back in the day
   Glorious personalities
   populated genealogy to boot
Twisting tortured destiny somewhere
   in one direction along the killer highway

   Setting stage for rags,
   when august ancestry buried in loot
Yet tis quite frivolous
   bemoaning present woes or even pray

   To win lottery turning attention
   how our ancestral gingko or newt
Dwelt in rich primordial egg drop soup
   wantonly in massive bay

   Inexorably transformed
   (by dint of dice throw) per flora to take root
As well fauna to mutate into species
   and genus on land to assay

Giving rise to variety to an assortment
   of animals and plants
And this one speck of flotsam
   in particular owns a passion for contra dance

Whereby others –
   from massive beasts to self taught amazing ants
Scurry hither and yon to and fro perhaps  
   contemplating genetic grants
To be alive for mere blink of an eye
   all due (in my view) to chance.
Poetic T May 11
We were on an occupation of
            relative discerning,
crossing every bridge of
                            relative conviction.

But the rights of a singular formation,
               doesn't hold the morality of
a solitary standing.
            The glass was half full on our side,
                                                  never spilling.


But on that side every motion,
                    sided with the tears
   that eroded the path before us.
   Could our convulsions be stained.

But we were stead fast,
                 walking forth.
             Here comes our shame,
             here is the shame of our noose
             of ignorance.

That a half empty cup of emptiness
had more meaning than ours
                                              half filled.
But we walked further than out tether.
  And a cup half full, pulled a bridge down
                         with a fortitude of conviction.

"Just because a cup seems mostly full,
         the tears of a mostly half empty vessel
  can hold more weight and pull any bridge
                  of wrongness down in simple volume
"
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