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penelope Aug 20
there's these moments where I can't help but cringe.
the discomfort is really specific,
like the curdling noise of Styrofoam being meddled with.
and...
i smile involuntarily, ironically.
and...
i started speaking (really just whispering to myself)
with my hands like an angry girl who's about to fight.
because i am about to fight.
myself that is.
i have enough sense to scream at my
sisyphean dumb ***** self,
so why can't i use that same sense to squash her
before she does more damage?
hindsight only does so much when i end up
in the same lonely spot
endlessly.
sorry for being ****** but it was kinda therapeutic
AceLione Jun 4
Oh Mighty Knight, why do you keep fighting?
Oh Mighty Knight, how firm are you holding your banner?
Oh Mighty Knight, When is the last time you cried?
Oh Mighty Knight, Who will die for you?
Oh Mighty Knight, What is between you and death?
Oh Mighty Knight, Where will you take your rest?
Oh Pitiful Knight...
Sophia Dec 2019
I love you
Because it's been so good
For so long
That if I didn't love you,
I'd have to be born again
And that is not a theological statement.
I am pitiful in my love for you.
Nyx Jun 2019
Even after all this time
I still dance around the room
Attempting to catch your eye
While Subtly following you with mine

How desperate
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
A pessimistic outlook on this blue planet
is the only way I can trudge through my shallow, pitiful existence.
Pear pressure digging a hole in my peace
and tossing the dirt to the side like it means nothing.
The brooding pitter patter of earth against earth turning me into an empty shell.
The quiet sobbing of the girl I used to be echoing loudly from within this now vacant space.
Each and every word that spills from between my lips wilting with my cancerous mind.
Tumors swelling in my hippocampus causing me to both never forget, and always forget all at once.
The diseases within my corpse-like body sinking my eye sockets
and leaving my heart for dead.
I might as well be a zombie
everybody would rather have me dead
then deal with my ugly face and diseased flesh.
jenna Jul 2018
dear you,

i’m in love.
yes. you were
waiting, i
bet, for this.
this time, though,
it is not
what you would
think. it’s me
this time, not
you, although
it’s still you,
but not in
the way it
used to be
you. it’s my
fault this time,
my doing,
my painful,
pitiful,
suffering.
it’s you in
the sense that
i cannot
control you.

this time,

it’s your mind and your thoughts
the things that slip off of your tongue
the words you put, pencil to paper
the ideas that come out in your songs

it’s your eyes and your sight
the careful observation of beauty
the need to bask in warm, pure light
the stare you give me, rarely now

it’s your movements and your touch
the hugs where you grip my shoulders
the times where i’m drunk and playing with your fingers
the warmth you give off and your gorgeous smile

none of them
are mine to
have, to take
to keep, to
love, to break

i miss you
and to go
and detach
to break what
we have, that’s
the hard way
out. but i
am trying
to help me.

i feel the
same way i
did when you
said i was
wrong about
this. about
how i feel.

i try to
not panic
and quiet
sob in the
bathroom at
3:27 am
every night.

i’m hoping
disposing
myself of
you, means that
the dreams will
go away
too. but if
they stay,
i’ll give you
a quick call.
probably
a text, to
be honest.

i love you,
unhealthily,
with every
part of me.

keep in touch,
please.

love,

me.
it is better to regret doing something instead of not doing it at all.
YH Sep 2017
The world is cruel;
ugly, pitiful.
It is turned so by man of nature.

Though, the world is the entire universe,
and the entire universe is so much more than those things.
If you think that way,
there is still much more for us to fathom.

After all,
we have not yet spent our whole life-time
seeing what the cosmos are here to show us.

— Y.H.

Cosmos,
gentle fervor.
Gently placate your enmity,
be patient.
For the storm in your mind
may only fog your vision.

(c) Y. H.
Rafael Melendez Jun 2017
Had a dream about a one-legged spider last night.
Was it me? Wallowing in my own pity. I feel like a fool, helpless.
My only protection is the night, and I've apparently gotten caught in my own web. If you wanted me in my most vulnerable state, here I stand.
Lost Mar 2017
I can't wait until I **** myself so everyone can pretend they care.
******* Monica
Ryan Hoysan Feb 2017
Humans are truly pitiful things
We are born weak
We are born with nothing
Yet we desire everything
Especially those things that we can not have
But we do not have a care for one another
The happiness of those that surround us is never given a second thought
Yet there are some who break the mold
Who utterly shatter any precepts of what a human being is
And should be
And ever could become
There are those of us that say **** the rules
There are those of that have forever heard the phrase "life isn't fair" and are sick and ******* tired of it, those of us who are working to make that statement a relic of history
Those of use who place others happiness on the forefront of our mind before even our own
Those of us who forget ourselves in order to keep another from losing them self.
There are those of us that say ***** the rules and live by our own motto
Those of us who kick hatreds *** in an attempt to give every single person in the world the one thing that everyone deserves
The one thing that everyone is entitled to:
Happiness.
Literally jumped out of the shower this morning, still full of soap just to write down this thought. Looking at it now, I'd say it was well worth it. This poem is kind of about me and the way I live a large part of my life.
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