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Osiria Melody Feb 15
            out of
                 vision. droplets
                                            of water making little
                                                          ­               incisions of blurriness in my
                                                              ­      decisions. falling out of my
                                                              ­ senses,
               could stare at these droplets racing
                      as if they were in a marathon,
                                                                ­     childhood
                ­       steadily, tracing my numb digits
against the unsuspecting windowpane,
                                      droplets converge briskly,
like how you did when you left me.
                               left me for her, a better woman, apparently.
                                                             never said a word to me,
                except through the disdain in your eyes.
felt the pain shoot my brain like I was supposed to cry
                           a million nights to make you smile. felt the shame like
    I was meant to be ashamed,
                                 pinned blame.
                                                  every time I look at the rain, I'm  
                                 of your
                                                                ­  foolish games.

(Please read this poem in landscape if you're on a mobile device.)
Thoughts are like raindrops, coming and going one at a time.
Arcassin B Oct 2018
by Arcassin Burnham

I was just another flame in the mist ready to be burned out.
I was just another past rekindling some spark with an old spouse.
I was just another homeless guy on the street asking for money.
I was just another bee pollenating
Looking around for some honey.

Something about a day to myself just makes it all worth while again,
To love and eat and pray just like a holy ritual where cruelty will never hurt you again.
When humans make up stupid accusations just
Pin something on you just turn the other cheek,
When people have the advantage to ruin what's inside your soul it leaves you in a space not to speak.

Their anger flourishes cause they know they're wrong in times where most of the time parents let society raise their kids while begging for money from the government making money off mental illnesses becoming what the child thought you'd never turn into, hope your heart is bullet proof,
crisis flooding to the roof, putting shame on my name, do better, speak the truth, why does everyone that lives and breaths searching for a better virtue, life isn't hard, follow the rabbit it'll guide you.
Something about a day to myself just makes it all worth while again,
To love and eat and pray just like a holy ritual where cruelty will never hurt you again.
When humans make up stupid accusations just to pin something on you just turn the other cheek,
When people have the advantage to ruin what's inside your soul it leaves you in a space not to speak.
Too familiar a sensation
One that I could use a vacation
Constantly flooded by thoughts and ways that
I could have done better
But these days that
Go by
In the blink of an eye
It seems that by
The time that I try
To do better I find
That I’ve failed
And if only I could say
that I’ve nailed
Down a way
to rise above that feeling of sadness
If only I could, just once, say I had this
All figured out
If only my actions matched my words in clout
I could, beyond a shadow of a doubt,
Make things right
Take things to new heights
Overcome the petty problems and plights
That plague my every day life
A life rife with strife
Rife with the pain of disappointment
Like a stab in the chest with a butter knife
C’est la vie
Such is life
Mon ami
My friend
But this isn’t the end
If you want we can pretend
That it is for just a minute
So let’s stick a pin in it
And come back when we’re done
Because I won’t let it end ‘til I’ve won
At least one time
(Once is better but time rhymes)
Too familiar a sensation
One I view with indignation
Despite what good can come of failing
Don’t get me wrong though, I’m not hailing
Failure as some great thing
That we should all strive to bring
Into our lives and those around
All I’m saying is that failure is worth its weight in gold
Pound for pound
So I’m told
That failure is experience
Somewhere between godliness and expedience
Hastening our ability to grow
And adapt and come to know
The difference between wrong and right
But even if I know the difference I might
Still **** up and that’s okay
I remind myself every day
That it’s okay to fail
It’s okay that you’re in the part of this tale
Called life that you’ll make mistakes
Like rhyming the above with mushrooms known as shittakes
(Okay that was arguably bad
But sometimes bad rhymes are to be had
When you write at 3am despite needing sleep
But you compulsively keep
Writing; you can’t put down your pen and pad
Oh who am I to kid
Everyone knows that I did
This on my phone
Sitting at home eating garlic hummus alone)
Where was I?
Failure and success
A state of being best left to be assessed
By the one who seeks to turn his loss into a win
And that’s where we come back to that pin
From before
The one I said we’d later explore
So heed my words carefully
Or suffer more pain unendingly
Life will never treat you fair, fully
So it’s time to start acting comprehendingly
As in: comprehend what your failures will do
When you learn to use them to become a better you
Because life ain’t fair
Accept that and beware
That life may be unbearable
At times
(Just like some of these terrible rhymes)
But you have to find a way
To grin and bear it gleefully
Because as they say
Mon ami
C’est la vie
This is the end
No more pins, rhymes, or lines
Just a bow
And an adieu
And a cow tow
From me to you
So that you take what I have written
And find the thing in life you’ve been smitten
By and do what you love even if you fail
Even if you whine and moan and wail
Until you’re sick and you grow pale
Until you learn to use your failure as a tool
As a unique stepping stool
Onto bigger and better things
Even if your failure stings
Don’t let it hold you down
Don’t let it make you sad and frown
Let it bolster you to try again
And then
When you inevitably succeed
When you’re at the top, when you’re in the lead
You’ll look back and wished you had read
This poem
So if you have sad friends
Show ‘em
And they won’t be sad for much more
(Just angry for rhymes made in poor
But I promise this isn’t a waste
Of time
I promise this is more than a few words put into rhyme
There’s a point, which is this:
You’re going to try and you’re going to miss
Because failure is an option until it’s not
And when it’s not, there’s your shot
So have a positive attitude
Because life is as good as it’s viewed
—pin removed
Nylee Nov 2017
Why do I pin all my disappointments on the wall
where they sit, stare and call
me to curse and cry
while they laugh on my wasted try.

why do I keep carrying those reminders
they are anything but sweet and tender
their work entails getting me to frown
or few tears, that is even better.

I cannot get rid of those
I am insane to seek them out like that
A ritual to get my daily dose of sadness
as if the day is going to be any less sadistic.
Crafting scissors
Gardening shears
A pizza roller
Instruments of humble vivisection
I wield, I rend, I create.
Needles and pins,
Nimble and thin,
I pierce, I pull, I close.
With measured patience
I choose my weapons:
Ink, passion, time, and wit.
An armory of precision and gut.
Boulders bruise but roll away,
Fire burns, but I'm already ablaze,
Arrows lodge shallow or all fall short,
But the cold?
It slices.
The draining thought:
Is this the end of my creation -
Is there no more?
I slowly bleed out.
Inktober Prompt: Sword
Rules: The poem is whatever comes out of the pen, no edits allowed.
Dori Sep 2017
You sit there on the edge of your bed at seventeen wondering where the hell it all went wrong.
Growing up didn’t seem so awful until you realized that eventually you’re going to fall in love with a beautiful girl, and she’s going to tell you she loves you back but not until she loads her gun.
So you keep sitting there, at the edge of your bed, praying that she loves the color of your eyes more than she loves the smell of the flowers she’s going to place at your grave.
But she doesn’t.
She never did.
So at seventeen, you decide to jump.
You jump off your bed and the fall seems to go on forever.
But your bed was never a bed, it was the pedestal she had you on for fifteen months and you finally had the courage to take that leap of faith and free yourself.
Except freedom isn’t freedom if you’re still shackled up and chained at the bottom of the oceans in her eyes and helplessly addicted to the satin feel of her skin. You scream and scream, but nothing can break the silence.

That’s when you realize she pulled the trigger and didn’t even kiss you goodbye.
ταξίδι στο κεφάλι μιας καρφίτσας,
των εραστών βαλσάκι που διαρκεί μόνο αιώνια,
και τα βήματα ανάλαφρα, ελεύθερα!
Cathryona Aug 2016
I see the needle in my eye
I see the silver tip
That holds every microbe known to man
I see it
In my eye,

In front of my eye-

The tip glistening under the
Beam of light that has refracted
From the broken windows,
it's getting closer now.
The silver pin ******
Will soon be dyed in red
And all my secrets and
And evil
And good
Will spill into my hand,

Everything that I know
Will be washed away
And all my thoughts
Will kiss the ***** floor
And make a blanket of
Colourless emotions
And all my soul will pour out
When the needle strikes
**My eye
hi it's been a long time
Leslie Jade Apr 2016
remember when we used to talk
underneath the pavements we walk
delusion has crept my vision
yearning like it's another fiction

pacing through cherished moments
painful it is, but I am blinded
art full of flaws, full of dents
replaced by wonderful beads

electrifying feels for you
longs and can never be diminished
journey of sufferings
reminisce, but will never fade
MsAmendable Nov 2015
Remember to put the pins
Back in the pin cushion
After you put all the pieces back together,
Don't drop them!
You wouldn't wish to step
On someone else's leftover pins,
Or pins you left over from fixing
Someone else.
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