I'm sorry Hello Poetry,
For being as pathetic as I am.
You see, I've often heard the quote that goes something like-
-'Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.--
But I feel like I keep loving and loving and loving
And even though I keep losing and losing and losing
I still keep loving and loving and loving
And it aches me, 'cause do they even miss my love?
The love that comes from every good atom of my existence,
The love I try so hard and hard to keep pure, to keep real, to keep lit!
Do they miss it?
So I'm sorry for being pathetic,
For not wanting to accept that loneliness might just be meant for me,
For not having anymore love to give anyone.
They'll just take it away and move on,
And leave me as is, pathetic as ever,
So what's the point even?

-fir.m

if i play with your hair,
i just didn't know what
to do with my hands.
i'll write a poem and
try not to feel pathetic,
i'll keep hoping or
come to terms with
you not really caring
where this'll go.
storybook ending,
beat the odds,
or straight into a
brick wall. i don't know.
i'll kiss you goodnight
and wonder who
you dream about
when you close your eyes.
we all have ghosts
we want to love us.
naked skeletons in the closet
that our memories dress in skin.
seasons change,
flowers wilt,
lovers leave.
i feel so stupid
wishing that you wanted me.

cracking
the lines and curves of the sentences fall apart
screaming
the facade pleads to be rescued from this madness
crying
the entity shakes, and the world trembles along with it

worthless
if you disappeared not a single person would make a remark
unwanted
an unlovable friend, for who wants someone burdened by sadness
pathetic
a stubborn fool, such that even death asks you to submit

Beyond is a bleak, grey skyline

I barely recognize my vignette

Yet here I am, walking that thin white line

As if I had not met him yet



I barely recognize my vignette

Black swans move like serpentines

As if I had not met him yet

Slow, calculated, but ready to strike at cloud nine



Black swans move like serpentine

He still whispers in my ear, I just cannot forget

Slow, calculated, but ready to strike me at cloud nine

“Pulvis et umbra sumus,” was his epithet



He still whispers in my ear, I just cannot forget

Their banshee bugle wails overcome; I am confined

“Pulvis et umbra sumus,” was his epithet

Like smashed cherries, their eyes were as ****** as port wine



Their banshee bugle wails overcome; I am confined

He wanted to mold to be a useful asset

Like smashed cherries, their eyes were as ****** as port wine

I gladly follow those threats



He wanted to mold me to be a useful asset

What called them on was my mental upset

I gladly follow those threats

There is nothing to regret



What called them on was my mental upset

It is foolish to once think I could outshine

There is nothing to regret

All I have ahead is a relentless battle line



It is foolish to once think I could outshine

I am merely a pathetic statuette

All I have ahead is a relentless battle line

Soon they all will forget



I am merely a pathetic statuette

Onyx swans call me to the brackish streamline

Soon they all will forget

It is there I snipped that innocent white line



Onyx swans call me to the brackish streamline

He influences my mindset

It is there I snipped that innocent white line

Time becomes frigid as I sink into that brine outlet



He influences my mindset

My body is limp in the alkaline

Time becomes frigid as I sink into that brine outlet

It is there I found no lifeline



My body is limp in the alkaline

The onyx swans fly in a v-line sextet

It is there I found no lifeline

He brought me to the finish with no reset



Beyond was a bleak, grey skyline

Yet there I was, walking that thin white line.