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Benjamin Fox Sep 26
Take this cup from me
It is for you to drink
Nothing bitter here -  just a parting offer
I know you've had worse
I'm betting this is better
I'm unlawful and you're the letter
Once I believed you'd bring relief
I've relieved myself of this belief
There is holiness in wiggle room
And I'll be no bride to a stunting groom
Chloé Aug 9
A messy mind
Inside and out
Reminders of the past
Earthquakes , car crashes,
Physical fights and emotional abuse

Like a sneaky bite
From a mosquito or an ant
You don’t see it happen
It hurts as soon as you realise
But it soon disappears
Never to be thought of again
Unless you scratch it too much,
Make it bleed and enlarge

It’s the trauma
I try not to scratch
Pretend it never happened
So I don’t tell others
As soon as I speak out loud
It’s as if I’m bitten again
The poison rises up
To the surface of my skin
And I scratch so hard
At something that is not there
Yet it still hurts
And bleeds, grows
Bigger and bigger
Eventually maturing
Into a visible scar

Then all secrets are lost
No longer concealed
Festering upon the mess
An absolute abomination
Inside this mind
Of mine
One of the worst things I could have done
Is blame you for all of the things you couldn't have known.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
Forgetting that you too, are human.
Putting on this front that we aren't as vulnerable as we seem.
Knowing all of the things that I keep from you.
I realized my mistake only when it was too late.
Revealing to you all the things that I thought you knew.
The things you couldn't have known.
How your name drives me insane soon as I hear it.
Staring across from you embracing every moment.
These things not often said not knowing how you'd react.
If you'd really see how important you are
One of the worse things I could have done.
Separating these same feelings in the blink of an eye.
Not knowing if you truly felt the same as I.
Twisting myself in half not realizing how whole you made me.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
I love the way you look at me.
The nonchalant way you'd often speak.
Putting on this front that we aren't as vulnerable as we seem.
How I crumble at the chance I didn't pull you closer.
Too few gaps left to fill.
Instead of telling you I always figured that you've known all of these things.
All of the things I wanted to do.
All of the things I wanted to say.
The weight of cookies that sit on a shelf.
Often suffocate while no one watches
Never knowing the feeling of being in love.
They often crumble
shatteredpoet Jan 15
this is me
handing you the key
to the closet i've
stored all my
skeletons.
this is me
handing you the keys
to my
safe haven.

•|||°
Conversations can occur in many ways.
Many the conception of one thing, used to justify another.
It tends to happen more commonly if not at all.
A certain honesty revealed.
In the consideration of intimacy
Without coming across as too overbearing.
Yet we place blame on ourselves for not revealing how we truly feel,
Sometimes trapping ourself in the thought of someone else's happiness.
Obvious truths overlooked when the normal reaction is the total opposite.
The latter, already knowing how we'd like to be valued, received.
We express ourselves the same way.
Not truly knowing how it's to be received.
Obvious truths automatically assumed when true intention is revealed.
Instead we seek validation through a smile, a laugh.
Part of ourself hidden.
A habit of not wanting to project what we feel we lack.
Overvalued on whether or not happiness is then assumed,
Instead of saying how we truly feel.
We normally put ourselves on hold.
Fearing that our mouths may differ in opinion,
that how we truly feel.
May not be what the other person expects, or wants to hear.
Further putting ourselves at confrontation with what we truly feel.
Not truly knowing the risk that comes with how much we truly love
And how much sacrifice is required.
How often we express our likes and dislikes
How often do they go ignored
Yet we place blame on ourselves for not revealing how we truly feel
the doc said,
"try to trust people
more. show them that
you care. tell them
how you feel."

to which i agreed.
maybe, it will
help me.
clear my head.
fix me.
by letting others
see, just how broken i am
and allow them to
try and put
me back.

the next day i said,
"ma. wanna read
my poems?"

she said,
"im busy honey, maybe later."

i never asked again.
and she forgot.
i never went back to doc,
and my mom still
thinks i hate her.
meh
دema Aug 2018
it's so hard for me
to open up,
but once i do,
i can't stop,
and people don't mind
stepping all over me,
so i build yet another wall
around me,
and opening up becomes
a mission not even Tom Cruise can make possible.
Cindy Jul 2018
"Dear poetry, allow me to offload my heavy burdens onto your shoulders.
You're the only safe place I know.
Allow me to strip naked; allow me to stand vulnerable and real before you.

You are the only safe place I know."
nim Jul 2018
it hurts
to open up
and to be responded to
with nothing but
misunderstanding,
rudeness,
being told to "stop being depressed".
How will that fix me?
it hurts to open up when
opening up never gave me
anything but pain
with the people I love,
while opening up to a stranger
was the only comfort I could get.
But how can I trust a stranger,
when it feels like everyone around me
has become a stranger?
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