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Man Jun 2023
I wish I could write something
That pierced the wool
Pulled over your eyes.
Your depression, your nihilism;
The things keeping you coupled
To the miserable lense of your life.
Cause there are so many things,
That are just perspective.
And everything else,
We could work through together.
I fear you can't imagine, what
It would be like, to improve.
Walk the world afresh, renewed.
Just so long as you're comfortable,
It doesn't matter if you're happy.
We could be something wonderful,
But you can't see.
That's the real tragedy
George Krokos Feb 2018
I remember reading somewhere that one thorn
can be used to extract or take out another thorn
which has pierced the skin and body of a person
so the pain experienced for a while does worsen
and only after it has been taken out is heard a sigh
of relief regardless of the method used to come by.
Written in Jan. 2018
Eric Lewis Jan 2017
Writing on The Walls
A bloodstained handprint
Are you alive to see this
Do your eyes pierce now?
Where the soul sees a mirror?
Oh God why cant they see
Why can't they see
The writing on the walls

Wed like to stay blind
But the rest wont last
Time to break a flatline
And wakeup from your bed

Pray now
You fall on your knees in grief
Do you see what you've been doing?
Do you see what you have left?
Another bloodstained hand print
The writings on the walls

Wed like to stay blind
But the rest wont last
Time to break a flatline
And wakeup from your bed

Press your face to the floor
Don't leave your posture
Don't move a muscle
Your eyes see it now don't they?
You can't hide
The Writings on the wall
The Writings on the wall
The Writings on the wall

The Writings...
John 19:37
Franz Bartolome Mar 2016
It's time.

It's about time to move on when the traffic lights turned green,
It's about time to know what the word "change" actually mean
It's about time to let those sad songs play out of the playlist
It's about time to let the roses bloom without a lover's kiss.

Yes, it's time

It's about time to look at yourself at the mirror long enough,
To keep yourself away from staring at someone else's photograph.
It's a note to myself. To stop fron hoping from a one sided love.
It is kinder
to pierce my flesh with needles
Than it is to call me a freak
But either way
your words won't upset me
For it is you that is
Your soft words sink me in ten directions
my soul comes pouring out of a broken hull
this is not a fairytale
unicorns and rainbows
happy endings
yours is a verse for forgiveness
cold as nuclear winter
bright as nuclear day
a quiet explosion in technicolor tragedy
my ears shatter
nerve endings free-fall
vividly ablaze
cherished moments fuse as one,
ten trillion endings per second
i flinch under the gravity of the situation,
a black hole lodges in my chest
never to leave again
sparkle and fade
no light escapes
sparkle and fade
this twisted love
this stardust field
No blade is sharper than your lips.
Revenant Aug 2014
I miss how we were the only ones alike.
We were the only two of that caliber, and you knew it.
Electricity flew between your lips and mine.
We were beautiful.
I miss how our voices pierced the heavy silence around us, and tangled up with one another.
I miss how we preformed for no more than one another.
I miss how your melodies kissed my face as they glided about our space.
I miss our shared breath.  
I miss my voice moving in perfect time with yours; curving up to meet your highs, and dipping down to brush against your lows.
I miss the way you would look at me when I took control and owned the song-- with that sly, crooked grin.
The accidental physical touch
The longing when our time ran out
The lingering of your voice, and that crystal gaze burning into my core
The teasing and the backhanded compliments
Never too sure of what's work and what's play
But I'm sure of this:
There is a certain intimacy that comes with throwing your heart and soul into the void, and hoping it doesn't fall flat.
There's an even deeper intimacy that follows when you meet another voice, and you move and reach and swell and growl and throw everything you have into that one note.
Because without passion, we are dead.

Breathe into me.

— The End —