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Kalliope 21m
I beg for understanding
   But I can't even figure out myself

I crave recognition
   But do nothing worthy

I'm desperate to be seen
        But my own vision is clouded
0900
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4 unread messages from contact: Cookie Monster

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173 unread messages from group chat: cat gang

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392 unread messages from group chat: secret society

I'm drowning
In the words
Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch
Shutting down...

Mute chats?
Yes
Mark all as read?
Yes

Click
If I leave people on read, this is why.
Kalliope May 16
Tell me not to think of you anymore, tell me to disappear without a trace.
Tell me to shut the **** up, that you don't even want to think of my face.

See I can't stop until I'm embarrassed, apparently I haven't reached that threshold yet.
Tell me you're so mad you can't bare it, that every minute of your time went to waste.

Tell me you don't like me, don't sugar coat it like you tend to do, tell me to go back to whatever hell I came from and that you'll be better off if I'm far away from you.
I think I need to take a hiatus,
put the pen down for awhile,
My head is in a dark place,
I don't want to write in that style.
My poems are usually somber,
But lately they're anxious and mad,
Thank you to anyone who's taken the time to read, I think it'll be awhile before I come back.
I have no guidence.

Searched on every summit
for some lost elusive cure,
and for the alchemy to make
me feel like I was pure.

Violently, I've torn through
the marrow of all I am,
begging every single deity
I've known for their hand.

I have no peace.

Maybe healing will never surface,
Maybe muffled by the sand.
A doctrine for the hopeful,
Who will never understand.

Wounds have always held
Daggers that were never removed.
What if pain protects the heart
Because it never is renewed?

I have no harmony.

Singing broken hymns can birth
another's hymn of praise.
Unspoken cosmic laws that state
Examples must be made.

I am never truly broken,
I can wish to be in time,
But I remain a quantum sonnet,
That is void of any rhyme.

I have no exit.

Maybe there is grace that lives
Within my wilted plea.
In knowing, I'm exactly
Who I knew I'd always be.

In a life of pulling chains,
Tethered to a hopeless mind.
What is left within a soul,
To see a purpose that's divine,

Without the residue of ash
From embers charring bone?
Without emotions echoes,
That have turned it into stone.

The cold sweat of empathy
For the fellow misbegotten.
Or wihout the twitching nerves
Of a body that is rotten.

I have no dreams.

I cannot find belief in me
For false restoration.
No longer a beggar for
A hollowed-out salvation.

I walk with aching fractures
To a rapture born in rust.
A fate I feel deep in my core,
That all is made of dust.

I have no reasons.

What's the purpose
For this riddle I weave?
Is there truth in what remains,
Or is truth in what will leave?

As I stand, a withered body,
weeping now without a plea.
I am all I ever was,
All I've known I'd ever be.

I have no future.

Rain Apr 23
Life feels too heavy.
Too many worries.
Too many pressures.
Too many responsibilities.
Too many hardships.
Pain.
Despair.
Hope turns to despair.
Happiness turns to numbness.
Calmness turns to pain.

Too fast.
So bleed.
Bleed.
Bleed.
Till everything is silent.
But it’s not silent.
It’s not working.
Making me panic.
Why isn’t it working?
lua Apr 15
i wonder if its all worth it in the end

i have this fear of finishing things
of things coming to a close
i hate the feeling of reaching the ending
and having to put it down
to move on to the next thing

the next thing,
i always wonder what it would be
how can it fill the void of what has already concluded?
how can anything be better?

im better off leaving things undone
and i do
every painting only a few short strokes
left from completion
every show an episode or two until the credits roll
every meal a bite away from clearing my plate

it all overwhelms me

i keep running and running until i see the finish line
but then i always take a detour
and then another
and another
until im running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail

i know the end will come
and i know things have to end
and i know that things never last forever
and i know that i cant just continue tracing my footsteps
over and over and over again

i wish i could skip to the good part
or have someone spoil the ending for me
so i can live in peace and quiet in groundhog day
sleeping, dreaming of the next day

the next day
and the next
and the next
in tireless
repetition

the next day becomes
the next month
then months
then year
and years
and years go by
the white hairs on my mother's head grow plenty
and i can count the crows feet by my father's eyes
it terrifies me
cant i be fifteen forever?
forever a child
reliving the same euphoria of a routine
over and over again

play the tapes
play them backwards
reverse fast forward reverse and pause and repeat
rinse and repeat
rinse and repeat
rinse and repeat.
haven't written in a while on this site, since life got in the way
so many things are changing all around me and i cant help but feel paralysed with all the things i should and need to do
i guess its all just a part of growing up lol

i made this account and started posting on this site when i was 15, naive and always caught up in daydreams with too much free-time on my hands
it was fun and i enjoyed every bit of it, but now that im older it feels harder and harder to write -- things feel more bleak and the haze of pink that clouded my vision has since dissolved
its hard to get up in the mornings, its hard to fall asleep at night

still i try, try, try
i think thats enough - at the very least, for now.

whoever is reading this, thank you for sticking around :)
i hope to write more for this site again <3
ivan Apr 1
sometimes i just need a hug

not the harsh words
maybe i just dont want to listen
to the truth
maybe im just too overwhelmed

sensitive.

i would never ask
for something like this
stabbing teeth into my wrists

like a dog, i follow you,
i admire you
but
sometimes all i need
is a hug
exhausted
torn apart.
ms hitt Mar 16
drip drip drip
thoughts
tri-ckl-in-g
into my head

splish, splash, splish
the ideas
get re-i-fi-ed
into my head

my head, my head
fill’d with
your words, you
heavy showers at noon

on a sunday morning
the jentacular
downpours, thinking
with a side of musing
i have a ton of backlogged poems, so I'm posting them all at once
Derrick Jones Mar 16
I got so many feelings they leave me reeling, stealing second after second because I’m the first to leave and the last to go, too guarded to believe and too frozen to flow.

Words cut into thirds and still too long to belong but too short to be strong,

I’m not tough I’m all bluff and all guff  I know stuff but not enough
Hands cuffed and shoes scuffed I’m too rough easily rebuffed and left puffed

I hope one day I find a way to be alone and okay but for now my skies are gray even on sunny days and like the waves I know I’ll eternally return but for now I burn, endless fire and pain a pyre without rain burning forever, chains I cannot sever no matter how clever I spit my wit aint **** in the big mitt.

Held in the hands of the One but no lifeline comes so I feel like I’m being burned in the sun, taxed like earned income, vexed like an anti-vaxxer with a sneezing son, fried by having too much fun and lied to by myself as I lie down in the sun, shoulda used suncreen but my burned skin screams and my broken dreams teem around the edges of a vessel losing steam, engines down and shields almost depleted, if this is Star Trek than I’m a red shirt being yeeted, if it’s a contest I’m this close to defeated, a few feet more and I’m off the shore, swept away in the ocean and no potion can stop this downward motion more than gravity seized by the sea I see no light to swim toward so I get floored, and at the bottom I grab a shovel and start to dig, maybe if I lean in to my demise I’ll be able to fantasize that this was a choice, that I have a voice, that I’m more than another skeleton swallowed by time in the end, I got the bends I sank too fast and even if I try to rise again the nitrogen will do me in, so why the hell should I even try when I could just lie here lying to myself, another bottle off the shelf another twisted elf helping me help myself abandon wealth and fall into deprivation, depraved agitation with no sanitation, ***** not clean nice and mean like mice and men I’ve gone awfully awry and I’m not shy enough to hide my shame so in these words I confide, some part of me awake for the ride while the rest sleeps in the tide, hoping the waves take me home, soma holiday the only way I’ll feel okay, my soma and germ both squirm with the ancestral trauma I spurned until it churned into a calamity inside of me that consumes me in gloom and doom until there is no room to do anything else but retreat back to the waiting room womb.

I typed that in one breath but still death would not save me from myself, this is not a cry for help this is more like a review on yelp, my life review is five out of five in the shine and naught out of who cares when the rain lays me bare, and cold and alone my flashlight shone on white bone and rotting flesh, death so everpresent it’s like christmas every day oh yay I hope my sarcasm forces a giggle from a lip so that this eclipse lifts for the briefest second, a glimpse at the life I could have had but somehow missed, the mist covers my eyes, first second and third, and the bird’s eye view tells me I’m *******, but when I look from the floor, well that view ***** more, so I guess ******* less would mean success, but the report card is hard to care about when I carted out my art so long ago, I started out with eyes on the throne now I’d **** to throw myself a bone and feel like there was a hope I could atone or find a road to home.

Tones bring me joy, music from the noise, something I wish I could make but I feel deaf and dumb when I try so I numb myself with wine until I’m fine to eat off the vine that others planted, feeling like a waste of space I wish I could face my fears, face to the mirror without my eyes wide shut, but the feeling in my gut is like a rifle **** slammed by a soldier, the pain surges and smolders, aching shoulders make it hard to stand straight, grated down like cheddar I used to be better than this now I’m a sweater poorly knit, a useless *** and a hub of useless code that would erode the minds of better men if they let my poison seep in, so I keep myself at a distance, I witness, hide my mental fitness and put on airs to win the princess.

I’m sorry I stole your heart you should have never let it part from your chest because now I confess I come off like the best but I am cursed to sometimes be the worst, an endless thirst I cannot slake, relentless life I cannot take, smiles I no longer fake because the weight finally ground me down to nothing in the end, nothingness my final gift to lend I guess I’ll just make space until I finally find erasure, the sweet bliss of death’s kiss will launch me to the next great adventure, returned to sender, smart like Ender my heart was rendered fully now it’s rended dully, blunt knives hack apart ventricles that used to start a beat that moved my feet, but now like lead I feel less alive than dead, and hope for resurrection is my only real direction.

Someone give me sign. Help me climb. Remove my blinds. Remind me of the path to the divine.
thepuppeteer Mar 8
A heavy weight on your shoulders will only grow heavier.

People around you support you to lift that heavy weight.

When nobody sees that heavy weight you eventually fall down.
The weight will be too heavy to bear.

You have no clue as to what to do.

But in the end you should know.

Your path does not end here.

It is not the end of the world.

Don't be afraid to hug yourself too.
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