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Alicia Sep 2021
I lit a match
and let it burn
slowly down to
the tip
searing my fingers
just like you
burned
all of your life
in your youth
then disappeared
leaving
me
blistered
©
Amanda Kay Burke Aug 2021
As pulsing through my veins starts to slow way down
Tiny part of me is relieved
Blood swirling under skin nearly stands still
So subtle it's barely believed

My entire body pauses a moment
Then two
Paralyzed completely in place
As I prepare for the worst
A bed in death's embrace

Hearing goodbyes as world fades away
Quickly turns to black
Shifting from solid to spirit
Released from life to never come back
"We live on the cusp of death thinking that it won't be us..."
Jack Thompson Aug 2021
Pour a little bit.
Drink a little more.
Die a little slower
Feel a little less.
Psychosis deranged disease mental overdose comeGetMe
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, this is the reason I write;>


dark rainbow rays mirrored on a ferris wheel
a getaway car in an edged escape to night steal

neon lights shimmering to hit the blind
whisper the whistles for an old memory on kind

like music blasting from ages of dreamt youth
sirens delight a heaven to the soothe

instrumental of the better sometimes wilder
violins haven hearts of lost on minder

crowds beat in one
rockstar of a blast concert as if none

sweat painted down the back
shivering sensations never seem to black

a run for life from the poison killing attach
even when the loneliest matters or not without a match

heard before my days known in my mercury
just uranused with a flaw abroad the mild century

is it for a regret?
to keep this mere on an impossible met

yellow on the head
better hidden not said?

a smoking pulse on a midnight walk to anger
hair torn feet split on a single dancer

hell of a heartbreak on rhymes
driving on blades on knives

upon screams liberate a burning love rosed
rare nostalgia again miracled an incredulous indie overdosed


                                                                                  ------ravenfeels
Samantha Dietz Jun 2021
I don't want to count the crows
Don't want to focus on my woes
When life has me in it's throws
I don't need another omen

I don't want to watch the stars
And wonder where you are
I'd rather you pick up the call
Than hear the line ring open

I don't want to hear that voice
Telling me that you made a choice
When we should just rejoice
Instead of stand here frozen

I don't want to say goodbye
I want you to be alright
Don't want to beg the open sky
Or cry a ******* ocean

I don't want to count the crows
I want you to come home
Without you, you must know
How many hearts will be broken
My friend is in the hospital. I don't want him to die. I dont want to burying another loved one. Please wake up.
Madison Apr 2021
I remember that night like yesterday.
When I was on top of the world until I wasn't Suddenly I was brought back unto the bathroom floor.
I rolled over, closed my eyes, and passed out
I remember thinking
"Maybe I was meant to die alone"
I accepted it as I floated out of my head
And for the first time,
everything felt okay
Max Neumann Jan 2021
**** the river, **** the river of oblivion
past lives are drifting beneath its surface
they are singing a hymn, in kids voices
this hymn was written by the thoughts of ancestors

a human being has more than 60.000 thoughts a day
the psychiatrist who told me that is chinese
i like her appearance, she's my type, sweetly dark
the memory of my poems is implanted into her brain

when the night becomes day, the sun swallows every word
its rays burn down all the letters of the past
and the past is nothing but the last word written
i want to take a bath in the ideal of love

this ideal is tattooed on a person special to me
i have to think of what alejandro said in sicario
a movie is never a movie but a collection of memories
no story will ever be written without experience

the observations of birds make up for a pool of poems
if these creatures could write, yet they sing their stories
every soul which existed on earth, comes back to it
sooner or later, gökhan, reyka, ama and alexander

i would have liked to meet my uncle but he died of an overdose
a man who hated him gave him poison and alex injected it
as a child, i would often look at his picture:
eyes wide open, wildly glowing, as if he was in a waking dream
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9mEjUhm-Gew
Olivia Catherine Jan 2021
He floats, adrift over wine-dark depths,
Veins of denial and luciferin,
Dressed in silk ribbons, deceptive in their innocence,
The discarded robe of a fallen monarch.

He glides, elusive, over nothing, solitary in his rule,
Unmoored and untouchable, even to a hand offering solace,
For fear that this same hand may tether him to an unsavory reality.
Lying to himself, the king of falsity and bioluminescence.
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