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Step, ground breaking
*****, heart shaking
Bleed, falling shards
Shatter, picking cards

Rolling dice, losing all
Flying down, slowly fall
Sinking deep, pull me under
Shouting silence, I will sunder

Sleep, mind cracking
Break, stress capping
Run, fast forward
But time, can't be bothered
Bullet Mar 7
Home is where the heart is

Hoping I can find the beat

The rhythm is looking for me

I can't seem to hear the love

I'm getting calls to look underneath

I'm stuck in a the basement mind

Cold and lonely, nobody to share it with

I'm looking for somewhere to stay

I'm looking for someones warmth to share

Home is where the heart is

I'm shown nowhere so tell me where my heart is
Bad Vibes Mar 5
I feel you slipping.

Slipping away.



This wouldn't be news to me - another person who goes. I don't blame you really. I'm sure I'm not the best to live with. Always a wild card of emotion. To be fair, I don't even know most times. I was doing well - I am medicated and things are relatively okay. But this sadness just washed over me like a wave - overwhelmed, drenched, depressed.

It is all senses of frustration rolled into one.

I know it's only a matter of time before you leave completely so why delay the inevitable. Just go. Leave. Don't look back and don't pretend to be sorry. I should be alone and I should go far away. Every city is tainted now - smudged with haunting memories.


I don't belong anywhere, so nowhere is where I'll be.



-t.s.
madison Jan 20
mental and physical
ifeelweak
i feel as if i don't have a place
but maybe
i take up too much space
Johnny walker Jan 20
Trying to sleep my troubles away put them for another day even though I know they won't go away feeling depressed every
day
If I was a younger man I'd
run away start again somewhere else but there
no where left to run to now or
hide
No, where left where one can be free from everyday pressure of life will follow
I guess till the end of my
days
Thoughts of lives everyday struggles nowhere left to go to avoid them to be free
Luna Jay Jan 17
He walked down the road
To nowhere.
Nothingness in his eyes,
Honey in his hips…
As he’s waltzing away from me.
And he’s empty.
He’s not going to get very far
Without speaking to me.
Needs it more than he knows.
It’s just that he
Is a staggering bound
Of emotion,
And he’s beginning to see
I’m the only one who understands them;
And that scares him.
So he runs away,
To nowhere.
The final form of destination has never
Truly mattered,
He just wants to prove
The absolute power
Wrong.
I can’t stop his destructive cycle-
I can’t save him from his own actions.
Everyone knows this to be true,
But no one seems to enforce
The fact that
You can’t be everyone's hero.
And I was never trying to be.
Lin Dec 2018
And in the darkest darkness
we can hear
the silent tears falling

We regret nothing
or maybe something
and we keep on speaking
without words

With no sense on where we are going
The path to nowhere
Leading us home
into nothingness

Can you hold my hand?
sya Nov 2018
i'll tell the galaxy a story of us; of you, of me, of unsent love letters i left under the sheet, of the ocean and the spring that smells like you. of the song we wrote in december, do you still remember it? do you, my darling?

i know memories will fade it doesn't stay still because i asked time to stop once but she don't know how to, but my mouth will always taste your kiss everytime i lick a cherry jam, my skin will always feel the warmth of your touch when i sleep in a bed of roses.

it's easier to forget than to forgive; but my mother taught me otherwise. will i be okay? will you be? day two and you already left this room jasmine scented.

but still, i will tell the whole story to the galaxy.
and make them fall in love with you.
Jodie-Elaine Nov 2018
On the creaking wooden chair in the corner, hanging on the scaffold, in the circular mirror, distorted and twisted and folding. It stands in the shadows. It lurks in the school playground while parents wait for their children, it’s a runaway train, and it’s the ink streaming down the window pane, it’s the clock melting inwards.
its golden fluidity and baby blue subtleties.
It’s the reason why you wake in the middle of the night,
gasping into darkness and grappling with loose ends... it was just a dream.
The reason you turn a corner just to look back behind you, why you double-take in the mirror, question where did I go?
Looking at nothing, staring into the bleak dark, it lurks. Awaits.
It waits in the form of a child holding a red balloon, staring into our blind spots.
Like shadows, when the sun rotates away from behind the playground wall you know, just then, now, in that full circle...
it’s about to run out.
You bend over backwards to relate to the moonlight dancing on the floor of its own reflections. It shows itself on beer bottles from better nights, you cross one leg over the other, position yourself,
folded linen.
Rushing to endless deadlines for nowhere o’clock, last call for the runaway train, struggling with human concepts.
You’re simply a sum of parts: an addition of flesh, limbs, old and broken battered bones, blind spots.
All the places you can’t see, can’t feel, can’t reach.
Loose ends meet themselves in the corner of that same old dusty room,
the folded linen crumples to the floor,

the red balloon bursts.
Another April 2015 one
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