melancholy Apr 21

there’s a coldness in your eyes
and it’s coming from your heart

I can tell when you hear the songs you feel hollow
the echos of the words bounce around in your bones and
paralyze the warmth of arms

every way out of this is just out of your reach and it’s fading fast
you stretch and kick but it’s too far. the strain is unbearable
you slowly fade into a gray hole.

you’re lost to yourself

you’ve become numb
a slate of nothing

the rain no longer satisfies your feeble body and the unquenchable melancholy death

it’s pulling you deeper in that unforgiving hole
in the deep dark pit of your stomach where love once inhabited

the hurt is you.

you've been overcome and the devil of regrets and all his evil own your broken beaten soul

this was writen while listening to I found by Amber Run. I had a friend that i was watching fall into a pit of depression and despair.. I wasn't abke to talk with them so i wrote this instead.

I'm in a pitfall
A robin
Shot down and left
I needed first aid
But instead
I decided to lie down and scream

Hardly alone
I found friends here
The fortunate eagles fly overhead

We'll get out eventually
Once our wings heal
But until then
We'll lick each other's wounds

Peter Balkus Feb 6

Your cherry sweet and juicy is
once bitten, tongue my, palate burst
in pleasure, but your stone-hard pit
is what my mouth in heaven turns.

I like to seize it, gently, feel
the bitter taste of nibbling bead,
before bite cuts into the root,
releasing secret tang of fruit.

And next time when I'm back for more,
new cherry hangs on summer bench,
I pick the red gem - with my lips
and eat it, eager, to the core.

You never said stop to my play,
new fruit hangs always from the tree
for me. I think you love the way
I treat your cherries - and your pits.

A Santos Jan 3

"What happened to the pit?"

The rain was rushing down again
Threatening my footing
Loosening the soil
Turning it into mush beneath my soles

"I'm back." I said.

"What happened to the umbrella?"

Rain poured down the walls
Releasing whatever grip the land had
A jagged pebble rolled its way down
It struck my umbrella and ripped it open

"I'm soaked." I said.

brandon nagley Oct 2016

In this darkly pit
Despair hast made love to mine
Bones, a soul floating hopelessly,
Tired; ready to let go.

Though God reminded me
"Patience mine son"

For there's hope afresh
The morrow; Jane, I'll
Forever loveth thee,
Now and always
Betwixt mine

©Brandon Bagley
©Earl Jane nagley dedicated
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Betwixt is between.
Hast is has.
Morrow is tomorrow.
Afresh- fresh or new.
Loveth is love
Mine is my
Thee is you
Jade Oct 2016

These parts feel like a lie I am giving to this world,
but it doesn't throw me back a sneer,
it pretends it doesn't know.

I am carving my skin with questions,
but it bleeds back no answers,
only trophies in the shape of these scars.

I am clawing myself out,
but the pit feels like quicksand,
the more I want out the more it takes me in.

I am half a person, half a ghost
already burying myself
inside the casket of my own skin.

If these gods were real
they'd have made us of sturdier stuff
than hearts that break apart at the slightest whisper.

The pit is a good friend of mine that pulls me in every now and again.
Jade Sep 2016

Everything is brighter
Too much light
Too many people
Crawl back in
Crawl back in
This is all too much

Take a deep breath
Smile too hard
Smile too little
This is all too much
This is all too much
Pretend to be someone else

This will work
Try to be happier
Try to be brighter
Pretend to be someone else
Pretend to be someone else
Will survive

Laugh a little
Go out into the world
Go out into the light
Will survive
Will survive
Will definitely survive

It's pretty rough. Maybe I'll fix it up eventually.

I stopped somewhere along the way .
It was a blank place with even more blank faces .
They seemed just as detached as myself.

There is a true beauty of being alone .
I haven't seen a familiar face in weeks .
But then again I haven't had the headache of having to pretend
I care either .

I thought about when I left.
There was comfort in the routine.
Knowing the misery would great me every day .
Knowing the name of every fucking asshole who drove me nuts enough to leave in the first place.

As I waited to pay for gas the prick behind the counter looked at me as though I was some sort of oddity .
Two six packs in hand I asked for a pack of Marlboro reds as well.
He looked at the clock .

Kind of early to be hitting sauce huh pal.
He asked me as he put the pack of cigarettes on the counter and rang the rest of my crap up.

His name tag read Mark.
I was just passing through but at least I had met one of the Kentucky chapter of assholes .

Well never to early to start a bad habit my friend I said as I paid the gas station Gestapo  a fifty.

He held it to the light .
Just pressed it today bud I said.
Somebody has been passing fake bills around the area he replied .
Well when I run into somebody I will let him know your on the job .

You aren't from around here huh mister ?

He placed my change on the counter .
I didn't say shit I just walked out with my change and two semi warm six packs in hand .

I herd him say you have a nice day as I was heading out the door.

It was funny how people viewed others as if there life were some great pissing contest.
They thought there life's were good as long as there was someone else
to look down on.

Yeah I may be a fuck up but least I'm not like that drunken loser they would say.
I cracked a beer aimed the car for interstate and was headed anywhere but here .

Yes I lived in a shithole but least my shithole had cold beer .

There is somethin'
          in 'dis here
passion pit.

Makin' my head jive,
   my body twitch.
       What's this? five?
              Five little sticks.

"Wait 'er minute, man...
              Hold up...
                    Step back!
'Dem right 'dere
      are snakes
making ashes blush!"

7-15-16 (C)

I wrote this a few weeks ago and thought I might do something more with it. I was experimenting with dialect and humor.

Thank you for reading. K:)

He was pushed
Into pit of hell
But he grew wings
And flew to heaven

Just a lil story in four lines
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